Toddler Resisting a Diaper Change

Dear Susie, 

I read your post about Why Toddlers Say “No” All the Time [July 5, 2013] and shared it with my wife.  Very informative and helpful.

Parenthood has been one of the most transformative experiences in our lives.  We are marveling at all the changes that we're experiencing ourselves and the change of perspective as we see the world through our toddler's eyes.  

Adam has recently (a few months now) stopped letting us change him on the changing table.  He doesn't like us to change his clothes and its a struggle every time.  It makes it particularly challenging when he has a full, dirty diaper.  Any suggestions as to what this may be related to and how we can be better parents?

Dear Parent,

Thanks for the kind words. First of all, I love the name Adam!  Second, I love your attitude about parenthood as an adventure and a renewed sense of experiencing the world.  Lovely. 

Third, this is a common toddler behavior.  Toddlers hate being interrupted and "messed" with, even when the result is a clean (and, one would think, more comfortable) diaper.  Being changed is a challenge to their autonomy, and autonomy is the big, prevailing theme of toddlerhood.

One thing that helps with any transition is a five-minute warning:  "Wow, I think that diaper needs to be changed.  We're going to do that in five minutes."  Then follow through.  Of course he doesn't know what five minutes is, but after a while he will get the picture.  It can be four or six minutes...of course.

This may or may not be the key.  If five minutes' verbal warning doesn't do the trick, try adding a bell or alarm.  For example, you could set your phone to ring in five.  Show him that you're doing this.  Ask him to tell you when it rings and (if he's already talking a bit) what you're supposed to do when it does. He will probably enjoy being in charge of telling you when it rings, and that it's time to change the diaper.  This way, it's not you against him (a contest) but him working with the timer (cooperation.) Thank him for reminding you about the diaper change.

You can add a little forecast of something fun after the change:  "After we change your diaper, we're going to have chicken noodle soup for lunch!"  Don't make this a bribe (if you do this, I will do that...) Just tell him what's planned for after, so he has something to look forward to, and to underscore a sense of routine.

If he has a special song he likes, maybe you can make up a silly version of it that includes the steps in diapering.  For example, to the tune of “This is the Way”:

     Now we take your overalls off, overalls off, overalls off,

     Now we take your overalls off, to get Adam clean!

     Now we need to use the wipes, use the wipes, use the wipes

     Now we need to use the wipes, to get Adam clean!

As you can see, this song doesn't have to be Great Art!  Adding few more verses (take off the diaper, put on the diaper, etc.) would see him through the whole process.  I would only sing this song when he's getting changed, to make it special.  Toddlers love rituals almost as much as they love autonomy!

Hope this helps, Susie

Why Do Toddlers Say “No” All the Time?

Recently, during one of my toddler classes, the inevitable question about “No!” came up. Toddlers say it so often. It's discouraging, it's exasperating, it's annoying. I encouraged the parents to brainstorm what they thought the toddlers meant when they said “No!”  Then I added a few of my own.  I hope that hearing this from the child's point of view may shed some light. Here’s what we came up with.

You say ”no” a lot. (And I mean really a lot!)  I'm just imitating you. That's how I learn just about everything!  Maybe you could develop different ways of setting limits:

            “The sand stays down”

            “Fluffy likes to be touched gently like this – yes! Just like that!”

            “That doesn’t look safe to me.  Let’s move over to the carpet...wow, that works much better.”

A big plus to intervening this way is that you’re giving me information.  You’re telling me what you do want instead of just telling me what you don’t want.   You’re showing me alternate behaviors.  And you may even be teaching me why something is a “no.”  Consider that it may be a good idea not to wear out the word “no” – you may need it to stop me suddenly and forcefully in an emergency.

I love power words! When I say “Baba,” milk appears. Shrieking “Mine!” makes my big sister back off. All I have to do is ask “More!” and my grandfather will indulge me in yet another round of our favorite song. “No!” is a power word too. It brings things to a halt. It makes eyes pop and heads spin. I love that! Please try to stay calm and state what you think I mean:

            “Sounds like you're sad to leave the park. I'm sad too! But I have to get dinner started.”

You've thrown in a little empathy and re-stated the necessity of leaving behind something we are both enjoying. Your next move is to follow through. Over time, I'll learn to accept the fact that we can want something and not get it...without falling apart and without taking it personally.

I truly don't know what you're talking about.  Maybe you’re referring to something by a name I don’t recognize.  For example, if I loved the model of the wooly mammoth at the Page Museum and I called it the "big-big effent," I won't have a clue what you mean when you say “Would you like to go to the Page and see the wooly mammoth?” Maybe you could say something like “Remember how much you liked the 'big-big elephant' at the museum? We're going to go see it again.” We can straighten out the terminology later.

You've interrupted me. Despite a reputation for having short attention spans, we toddlers can be quite riveted to things that interest us. (What captures my fancy may just not capture yours.) A five minute warning can be very useful in “getting ready to get ready:”

            “Sweetie, in five minutes I'm going to tell you about our plans for this morning.”

This piques my curiosity and helps me change channels to prepare for a transition. That way, I'm not caught completely off-guard by having to stop one thing and begin another.

I crave self-determination. The need for autonomy is my current passion. I want to do things myself and I get so frustrated when I'm not able. Please let me do as many things for myself that I can, even if I don't do them as neatly or efficiently as you could. And I need choices. Giving me a choice about which stuffed animal to take to the market might make me feel less oppositional about getting in the car to go there.

You asked me in question form, so I thought I had a choice. Parents have a funny habit of putting “OK?” at the end of a declaration, as in “We're going to the library, OK?” Maybe you want to sound less bossy, more genial. But a question is a question – and even though I can't say much yet, I recognize that upward inflection in your voice as an invitation to weigh in. So I say “no”...and you feel disappointed...and I feel tricked. As I said before, I love to have choices, but if I don't have a choice, let's not pretend I do. Tell, don't ask.

Maybe I want veto power. I don't yet have the ability to ask for many things, but at least I can try to exercise the power to negate. As I become more verbal and refine my ability to endorse and request – to use language in a positive way – you will see my urge to negate diminish.

I'm feeling trapped. Just as I have trouble requesting some of the things I want, I also have a difficult time articulating what I want to do. When we always have to do what you want/need to do, this underscores my feelings of impotence. Is it possible to spend some part of each day (even if it's just 15 or 20 minutes) simply noodling around and following my lead? That will satisfy some of my urge to direct traffic.

I have to be me. They don't call toddlerhood the “first adolescence” for nothing! So many of the same issues are at play in these two stages of life. I'm working very hard to individuate – to understand and promote myself as a person who is not part of you. If I say I don't want what you want, I get to feel very separate and distinct. I enjoy hearing you put this into words: “I like the red shorts and you like the blue shorts. Why don't you go ahead and wear the ones you like.”

I may not understand that it's for my own good. Let's say I'm playing outside and starting to shiver. You run in the house and come out with a jacket and try to wrestle me into it. To me, that's just an annoyance, an interruption. I haven't got an innate sense of the connection between my comfort and the jacket. Try breaking this down for me: “You look like you're cold. You're shivering and your teeth are chattering like this – BRRRRR. I'm going to put your jacket on you so you will feel warmer.”