If not utopia, there is peace beyond ‘Tantrum City’

By Dr. Heather Bozant Witcher
Young Adults

Perseverance. It’s been just about one month since we moved, and, more often than I’d like to imagine, I’ve had to repeat silently – like Dory in “Finding Nemo”– “just keep swimming.”

When the home difficulties piled on – from plumbing leaks to air conditioning difficulties – I could feel the tension rising. When daycare closed down (again) for COVID exposure, as one-by-one staff and children reported positive tests, the stress of missed deadlines and grading mounted. Exhaustion and frustration settled in.

It’s been just about a month since the move, but it feels like it’s been much longer.

Perseverance has become the name of the game for parenting during the time of COVID. Juggling, flexibility and simply needing to be OK with the ever-growing to-do list has become the new norm. We keep going because, quite frankly, there’s no way out but through.

That doesn’t make it any easier.

I remember distinctly sitting amid a partially unpacked playroom as chaos reigned. Toddlers don’t do well with transitions. A big move. Daycare closed. Frustrations over non-working AC. It’s the perfect storm for tantrums. And, as I was helping my almost 3-year-olds understand their feelings – their sadness at not being at school, their anger at wanting to play with the same toys and not wanting to take turns – I realized that much of parenting is a teaching experience for ourselves.

As I was teaching them to understand and use their words as a way of calming down, I was also becoming conscious of the increasing difficulties of my own that had been stacked one on top of another.

There are two sides to perseverance. There’s the side that gets you through the obstacle. That’s the grit, determination and also partially the frustration and resignation. But there also comes a sort of turning point: the other side.

As we calmed down after tantrum city, I watched as my toddlers poured every ounce of intensity into a creative outlet. They painted rocks, focusing closely on the paint choices and using the paintbrush to get into every crevice. They used window markers to create “pictures” and share the story behind their drawings. With the rocks, there was silence; with markers, they chattered away. Different outlets for expression.

And, as they used art to overcome their obstacles, I glanced over at the youngest. Pulling up to stand and trying to get his feet to move in the direction he wanted to go, he was trying to cruise along the table to join in the fun. It hit me that there are different kinds of perseverance, too. Mine was of necessity; his was of determination.

hbozantwitcher@clarionherald.org.