The lines have been drawn. The battle has begun. After almost two years of peaceful coexistence, my daughter and I are in a war of wills— a struggle for power, if you will. We have officially entered that challenging phase of parenthood known as The Terrible Twos (insert scary “Da, da, daaaa!” sound).Before I was a father, I hated when parents would talk about this legendary period of misery and frustration. I heard horror stories of inconsolable, uncontrollable toddlers causing public scenes and wreaking Godzilla-like havoc. I used to scoff at these tales. How could someone so young and so small possibly cause so much trouble? It must be bad parenting, I thought. Certainly, when my time came, I would fare better.
How foolish was I.
In her brief time here on Earth, my daughter has always been somewhat advanced for her age. So it’s no surprise that her Terrible Twos started right around 18 months. Our sweet little angel – always well behaved, always a good eater – suddenly decided one day that she wasn’t going to listen to us anymore. Suddenly food wasn’t something you put in your mouth, but rather something you threw across the room. It was if one morning we woke up and our daughter’s angel wings had been clipped and replaced with devilish horns.
Back in the old days, the remedy for such naughty behavior would’ve been a firm spanking with a custom-made wooden paddle (preferably one with copious holes drilled through it for extra spanking power). However, my wife and I do not subscribe to this type of corporal punishment. Instead, we put our faith in a kinder, gentler form of discipline: the Timeout. We believed this was a much more effective and humane method than spanking. Besides, we saw it work on TV.
The first few times we put my daughter in Timeout, it worked perfectly. Sitting alone on the special Timeout Chair in the Timeout Corner, my daughter wailed in shame and shed rivers of tears as she begged for our forgiveness. Then, after letting her think about it for a minute or so, we’d ask for an apology and give her a hug as she whimpered in defeat. That’ll teach her to fling her mashed potatoes across the room! At least that’s what we thought.
It wasn’t long, however, that my daughter lost her fear of this trendy form of punishment. Now the once dreaded Timeout is about as effective as threatening her with an ice cream cone. “Do you want to go in Timeout!?” we ask in our best angry-parent voices. “Yes!” she answers, nodding and flashing a fiendish smile. Funny, but this never happened on TV.
Maybe the Terrible Twos isn’t caused by bad parenting after all. Maybe it’s just some preprogrammed type of behavior that’s just a natural part of the development process. Then again, maybe it’s God’s way of having a good laugh at our expense.
Personally, I don’t know how much more of this I can take. It’s exhausting. Maybe I’ll just put myself in Timeout for a while and think about it.
Valentine J. Brkich is a writer and father who’s losing a battle of wills with a two-year-old. Check out his website at www.valentinebrkich.com.







