Everyone told me that toddler routine is the key to toddler happiness. You break the routine at peril of toddler upset. This, I have discovered, is not the whole story.
No doubt our boys love routine. We get up. We change diapers. We drink milk. We eat breakfast. We play on the deck. We go for an outing, we lunch, we nap, we play, and we go out again. We shower, eat, drink milk, read, sing and go to sleep. That’s the routine. To deviate in the slightest, to skip a step, or to change the order is to invite a cascading series of vocalizations culminating in a meltdown. Routine. Every day. Like clockwork.
Or is it?
That was our routine. Then one day after dinner Nhan pointed and grunted. Point! Grunt! What? What do you want? Point!Point!Point!Grunt!Grunt! Music? Do you want music? Point!Point!Grunt!Grunt! OK, not music. What then? The candle? Point!Point!Grunt!Grunt! The picture? Do you want to see the picture? Smile!Laugh!Point!Grunt!Yyyaaaaayyyy!!! Oh, you want to see the picture!
Our friends gave us a multi-image frame with pictures of Mommy & Daddy, and each of the boys. Nhan holds it. He looks at it. Points to it. “daaaddeee”, says Nhan as he points to Daddy. Our hearts melt. “daaaddeee.” He points at each member of the family in turn, mumbles toddlereeze, and points at the cute little animals on the frame. That was soooo cute!
The pictures, especially pictures which arouse congratulatory ooohs and aaaahs from Mommy and Daddy, must now be seen by the brothers. Tai looks at the pictures. He points. Mommy and Daddy oooh and aaah. That’s soooo cute. Tam looks at the pictures. Ooooh. Aaaah. Tam starts to disassemble the frame. No, no, stop that! Picture time is over. Clap. Clap. Everyone loved picture time.
Picture time had not been part of our routine. That was new. That was unexpected. Most importantly of all, that was fun. The toddlers enjoyed picture time. But unbeknownst to Mommy & Daddy, picture time just became assimilated into the routine.
The following night dinner ended. As always we clapped. “Good job!”. Clap, clap, clap. We start to put the boys down. GRUNT! GRUNT! “Hey, you! Adults! This is wrong!” UPSET! Crying and screeching ensue. What the hell? What’s got into you? Daddy’s looking around frantically … did the house catch on fire? Is there a kernel of rice out of place? He runs through the checklist of upsetting things … dirt, dogs, doorbells. Nothing. What gives? Point! Point! Daddy looks around … the picture! Oh … you want to see the picture?
But this isn’t a request any more. This is no longer curiosity at work. After a single act of spontaneity, this has become routine. This is expected. We now expect to look at the picture. We have achieved entitlement. Good job. We can now modify our routine schedule. Immediately following dinner but preceding milk, there will be picture time. That is now our routine, newly evolved.
Daddy ponders. Daddy thought toddlers did not like change in their routine. Daddy was wrong. Toddlers love change as long as they love the change, then they don’t want it to change back.
Being a scientist, Daddy built a model for the way that toddlers think. It looks like this:
Daddy’s office is off limits to the triplets. It’s filled with computers and phones and papers and everything from everywhere else in the house that we didn’t want destroyed. One day in an act of spontaneous Daddy-ness, Daddy brought Tai into the office to sit in Daddy’s lap. Daddy typed on the keyboard. Tai dialed Botswana on the phone. Tai loved it! Tam and Nhan loved Daddy office visits, too. Yeah! Tam carved up Daddy’s desk. Nhan shredded paper. That was fun. The boys were happy. It brought some peace to the house. Daddy office visits seemed worth it.
Until they became routine … which happened pretty much overnight. Whereas office visits used to bring joy, now they could only satiate an irritating entitlement. Whereas office visits used to be special, now they needed to occur with the regularity of Old Faithful. Office visits were expected. And what happens when a toddler does not get what he expects? He throws a fit. This would not work at all, because Daddy could not work at all.
So office visits were banned.
Office visits were banned cold turkey. Office visits were banned weeks ago. Although not entirely throwing fits any more, Daddy’s knuckles still feel the strain of the occasional toddler tug in the direction of the office. They remember. It’s long gone as part of our routine, but it’s lodged in their hearts as a welcome change. This is a place where the triplets dream of a day when the routine will break, when we will spontaneously visit the office, and once again assimilate visits into the routine.
Hi there –
I just had to let you know how much I enjoy reading your blog. I can’t remember how I found it, but it was through some Holt connection. We have a bio son who is three, a daughter from Vietnam who is two, and a son who was adopted domestically who is one. I don’t know if our lives are more or less crazy than if we had toddler triplets!
We originally thought our second adoption was going to be from Vietnam again, and I heard about your triplets while we were on Holt’s waiting list. We were not sure we would get a referral before the Sept 1st deadline, so we also signed up with a domestic agency and ended up with a placement after only seven weeks.
Anyway, I’ve been reading for a few weeks and meaning to comment, but I’m sure you know how that goes. I couldn’t let a post with a graph of the mind of a toddler go without recognition though!