Practical tips and phrases for common situations
This guide is for you, when you’re the one watching. Not because it’s complicated, but because it’s nice to have something to lean on. It’s often hard even with our own kids.
Behavior is always communication. When children cry, won’t listen, fight, or withdraw, it’s never “bad behavior.” Behind every behavior is an intense feeling they can’t yet express any other way. Keeping this in mind helps you connect more gently in the hard moments.
Feeling first, then solution. When a child feels truly heard, their nervous system calms almost instantly. You don’t need to solve the problem right away (e.g. find the lost toy car) — first acknowledge the feeling (“I can see how upset you are that the car is missing”). The solution comes much more easily after that.
The feeling is always okay — behavior can have limits. “I totally understand you’re angry. But hitting isn’t allowed here.” These two things can coexist. This is one of the most important, most reassuring frameworks an adult can offer.
These aren’t nosy questions — they’re the small, loving details of care.
The mom’s goodbye should be brief, firm, and loving: “I’m leaving, but I’ll be back. XY will watch you until then.” If the mom tries to sneak away, gently ask her to say goodbye. The child deserves the respect of knowing what’s happening.
Crying isn’t a mistake — it’s how emotions are processed. Your job isn’t to stop it immediately. It’s to be there while it passes.
Don’t say much. Silence and closeness often do more than any well-chosen words. Get down to their level. Make eye contact. Touch them.
If the crying doesn’t ease: hold them, hum softly. You don’t need to fix it — just be present.
Distraction: “The two of us are going to build the tallest tower in the world.” A shared adventure helps break the spell.
Distraction: “Could you teach me your favorite game?” A role reversal — where they’re the teacher — can help them snap out of it.
What to avoid: “Don’t cry” — this tells them their feeling isn’t okay.
Take it seriously. Don’t wave it away. If you validate the feeling, the child learns to trust their own emotions — and can move past it sooner.
“Let’s send your mom a secret picture message! What should we tell her?” The connection with mom comes alive, and it’s fun for the child too.
At this age, they rarely ask openly — instead they withdraw, get quiet, pick at everything. Ask simply: “Are you okay? What’s on your mind?” If they don’t want to talk, offer an activity and stay available.
This is almost always about the child not trusting you enough yet, looking for connection, or testing the boundaries. It’s not disrespect.
One of Faber and Mazlish’s most effective techniques: describe what you see instead of giving orders. Not “Put the toys away!” but “I see the toys are still on the floor.” This is an invitation to think together, not a command. The child doesn’t feel attacked.
Another useful tool: give information instead of commands. Not “Go wash your hands!” but “We always wash our hands before lunch.”
“Wow, this shoe is SO stubborn! Shall we show it who’s boss?” Put the shoe on your hand like a puppet. Little kids almost always go along with play.
“Every superhero eats dinner to keep their powers up. Which food charges YOUR superpower?”
What to avoid: Endless explaining — the more words, the less impact. “If you don’t listen, I’ll tell your mom” — that’s a threat, not connection.
Conflict is natural and one of the most important learning experiences. Your goal isn’t to solve it immediately. It’s to help them get through it. Acknowledge both sides’ feelings before looking for any solution. Don’t decide who’s right — just mirror what you hear.
“There’s another amazing toy here that nobody’s seen yet!” Show something ordinary with great enthusiasm.
For mild disagreements: don’t jump in right away. Give them 1–2 minutes. Solving it on their own is a more valuable experience.
If you need to step in: “You felt like it was taken from you. You felt like you didn’t get it.” Mirror both feelings without judgment. Then: “What could we do about this?”
If they hit each other: “Stop. Hitting isn’t allowed, but I can see you were really angry. What happened?”
After things cool down: “Let’s do something that only the two of you can do together.”
The golden rule: don’t force it. Your responsibility is what goes on the table and when. The child’s responsibility is whether they eat and how much. Keeping these separate is a relief for everyone. When mealtimes become a battlefield, children almost always push back harder. Pressure increases resistance.
“This isn’t just any sandwich — it’s a magic sandwich that makes your legs run faster.”
“You’re the official taste tester today. Out of five stars, how many would you give this dish?”
Sleep is routine-dependent. Make sure they have everything: pacifier, lovey, favorite object.
Stay next to them calmly — your inner state is contagious. Soft music, a story, physical closeness.
“Let’s make up a story together. You say the first line, I’ll say the second.”
“Here’s a tricky challenge: close your eyes and try NOT to fall asleep. Bet you can’t do it.”
A meltdown isn’t manipulation. The emotional part of the child’s brain has taken over. This isn’t the time to teach — it’s the time to provide safety.
The principle: connect first, then redirect. If you explain or give consequences first, the child can’t hear you — the part of their brain that would process it isn’t active right now. Honestly, we adults are often the same way :)
During a meltdown:
If it’s physically unsafe: “I’m holding your hand so nobody gets hurt.”
After they’ve calmed down, give them time, then: “Can you tell me what was so hard?”
What to avoid: “Stop it right now,” punishment at the peak of the meltdown — it doesn’t help, they don’t learn from it, and it only adds to the tension.
Don’t force them to engage. Do your own thing nearby:
Start doing something that’s both visible and quiet — play with clay, draw. Don’t invite them, just do it. Curiosity is almost always stronger than withdrawal.
“Why don’t I have a dad?” “Is my grandma going to die?” “Are you going to die too?”
Don’t dodge them. Don’t dismiss the question. Don’t lie. Acknowledge its weight, and redirect back to them and what they think.
Stay calm — the child is watching your reaction.
“Let’s play doctor. You’re the patient, I’m the doctor.”
Always let the mom know — a short message is enough: “They fell, cried, but they’re fine now.”
Completely normal. In the safety of mom’s presence, the child can finally release what they’d been holding. It doesn’t mean they had a bad time. Both can be true: “I played well” and “I missed mom.”
If they feel feverish, vomited, look pale, or are clearly unwell: call the mom and talk it through together.
If you got something wrong — you were too loud, too impatient — you can say so to the child. “I’m sorry I was impatient. I’ll try to do better.” This models how to admit a mistake and move on. The myth of the perfect parent is harmful to both child and parent — an acknowledged mistake teaches how to handle things when they don’t go right.
Your own child is learning from this too. They see how you relate to someone who behaves differently from them.
Sending a quick photo to the mom means a lot. It’s not expected, but where it becomes a natural habit, everyone lets go more easily.
Play and laughter. When a child has a hard time opening up, a silly moment often does more than any persuasive words.
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