This book is a series of blog posts and letters that have been compiled for publication. That being the case, there is inconsistency among definitions and messages across chapters. While one blog post might sound nice standing alone, put it next to another that sends a completely different message, and you have a garbled mess.
Toddlers as Adults
Lansbury’s philosophy is based on RIE Parenting, which was founded by Magda Gerber, whom she almost exclusively quotes. This immediately struck me as flat; while celebrating her mentor’s incredible knowledge, she never thinks it worthwhile to explore other schools of thought or experts—Magda is the end-all-be-all. So, let’s start where they start:
“Babies are whole people — sentient, aware, intuitive and communicative. They are natural learners, explorers, and scientists able to test hypotheses, solve problems, and understand language and abstract ideas. - Magda Gerber.” (7) This starting point is what is behind the philosophy of treating toddlers like adults; Lansbury says that if we wouldn’t do or say xyz to an adult, we shouldn’t to a toddler. “‘Would I treat an adult this way?’ is a good gauge for ensuring respect for our child.” (29) While attempting to be in line with developmental cues, this foundational belief ignores all development theory; that there are stages of growth and development for humans, and that ‘adult’ is the last stage.
“Children are sensitive and impressionable” (19), but they are also so, so, so smart that they know our feelings before we do ourselves! “Toddlers are very conscious and aware, but their behavior isn’t.” (80) Except, we also need to “slow everything down” to give these mini-adults time to process our words and decide on their next action. (38) Would I talk slowly and simply to an adult, assuming they need several seconds to process a single sentence? No, I wouldn’t, because this would be rude and imply I think they’re stupid. Lansbury admits that we need to help our toddlers by providing action to back up our verbal directions and requests, since these are not enough by themselves “even when our children fully understand them.” (150) That sounds like an adult, doesn’t it?
In an odd example of her opinion trumping all others, Lansbury disagrees that children have shorter attention spans, without quoting any research or evidence to support her opinion, and in fact, saying so in contradiction to an article published by a university press, which she fails to cite! (43)
Parent in the Wrong
A major theme is that parents are always, and Lansbury does mean always, responsible for whatever the child does, feels, or says. Take chapter 2, in which her son hits another toddler. “Ah-ha. He’s tired” she thinks, and tells her son they will go soon. But then she gets distracted with conversation, and her son hits again. Her literal response: “Oops. Totally my fault.” (15) Instead of teaching her son responsibility for his actions and appropriate ways to communicate his needs (ie not hitting), she owns his behavior and gives him an excuse to continue it. In the next two pages, she gives an example of her daughter speaking rudely to grandma, and finding reason for it in the six hour road trip they had just taken. “Duh. My fault again.” (16) How is it her fault? They had to drive there. Was she not supposed to let her daughter see grandma until the next day? She continues, “counter to the example I shared about my daughter speaking rudely to Grandma, … my response would be far more minimal if a spark of rudeness was directed at me. Rather than react and risk creating a story around occasional whining, screaming “you’re stupid,” “I hate you,” etc., I would dis-empower those behaviors by allowing them to roll-l-l off my back.” (17; bold emphasis added) Somehow, it is consistent to stop your daughter from yelling insults at grandma (after all, it’s just a “spark”), but it is perfectly fine to allow them to continue when directed at the parent.
“A child is likely to behave more erratically whenever her parents are upset or stressed about anything, especially if her parents haven’t openly shared these feelings.” (19) Should a parent feel hurt or cry or show other vulnerable feelings, this could “cause an unhealthy sense of responsibility for (and, therefore, discomfort with) the vulnerable feelings of others.” (49) What if our child hurls insults at us? Don’t show your feelings, otherwise your child might learn responsibility for their words! We must guard against ever making our child feeling guilty, such as when they physically hurt us, as this could create a story in which they feel regret for their actions; “our vulnerability creates guilt and insecurity.” (71) We should never act “perky and upbeat” if we’re actually annoyed (42), yet we need to “project calm” in order for our children to release their feelings well. (54) It’s all on us.
We shouldn’t give up all our needs for our children’s happiness as this will make us resentful, and give our children an unrealistic expectation towards discipline and life. (26) But, in chapter 24, she rants against another parenting “expert” who she disagrees with about parents setting their own limits. Lansbury says parents need encouragement to stick up for themselves, permission to end the activity, and ideas for communicating their feelings: “I’m getting seriously tired,” and “I honestly couldn’t take it anymore” (123) — is this not causing guilt, creating a story, communicating rejection? Inconsistency abounds.
When another child strikes her mother after being told she can’t barge into the bathroom, Lansbury literally places the blame on the parent: it “probably wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t sensed you were upset.” (92) But, even though our toddlers have a superhuman ability to pinpoint our true feelings whilst needing education and direction from us about their own, we need to “seemrelaxed” until our kid loses interest in misbehavior. (132) So what is it—fake it until you make it, or fail unless it’s real?
Every letter is either a success story, or is redefined to align with Lansbury’s worldview. The parent is having trouble? Their “unruffled” attitude must actually be passivity. (153) Lansbury also has the ability to deduce amazing details from one email, as she does in chapter 16. Parents who homemade baby food with organic ingredients are interpreted as giving her “la creme de la creme,” and this effort was amazingly picked up by their 1 year old who “responded beautifully and rewarded her parents’ efforts by eating with gusto.” (84-85; emphasis added) So, if they had fed her from a store-bought jar, she wouldn’t have noticed and wouldn’t have eaten as much? This kind of rewriting is consistent throughout Lansbury’s responses. She continues with some pretty bad advice about feeding the baby her own separate meal (86), which is widely rejected by behavioral food experts. Again, a weird situation where a normally happy toddler behaves erratically in class is interpreted as having “overpowering feelings stuck inside her that [needed release,] and RIE’s therapeutic ‘all feelings welcome’ environment” fixed everything (103). The problem with this? None of it is provable. It is simply Lansbury’s interpretations, which, naturally, will make out her and her methods in the best light possible.
Will Above All Else
Lansbury believes that toddlers must resist everything a parent asks or wants, and this is not only healthy behavior but ought to be encouraged. “There is a lack of recognition of the healthy need toddlers have to express their burgeoning will by resisting whatever their parents want, as well as their need to release intense feelings.” (154-155) “Testing, limit-pushing, defiance and resistance are healthy signs that our toddlers are developing independence and autonomy.” (65) Let’s apply this to an adult: if an adult with a job regularly defied her superiors, resisted directives, and stepped outside of her job delineations, would this be something to celebrate? You tell me.
Our children have better things to do than listen to or obey us, Lansbury argues. When a mother shares about her daughter being disruptive in mom/toddler classes by dancing, rolling, running, etc., instead of learning attention for the animator, self-control in sitting still, and social expectation in a class setting, Lansbury uses it as an example of “healthy, delightful instinct to learn … through play, exploration, and following inner-direction.” (51)
When it comes to a child telling an adult “no,” this is “a very healthy, positive word for your [child] to be experimenting with.” (58) Lansbury then suggests making a game of disobedience. Sound crazy? That’s exactly what Lansbury did with her daughter in the tub! “She got to experience the powerful feeling of going against my wishes.” (59; emphasis added) Defiance is apparently something to be celebrated! Is this how we would treat an adult?
“If we say ‘green,’ toddlers are almost required to say ‘blue,’ even if green is their favorite color, because if toddlers want what we want, they can’t assert themselves as individuals.” (65) What a demeaning, disheartening understanding of not just toddlers, but autonomy! “In the toddler code book, compliance means weakness.” (67) “Defiance is an almost automatic response, so when we say ‘yes,’ toddlers have an overpowering compulsion to say ’no.’” (91)
In another exciting example of Lansbury’s insight, a toddler’s desire to wear mom’s shoes to the car is arbitrarily ruled “not necessary for healthy experimentation.” Instead, Lansbury is able to unequivocally understand this child, whom she has never met and only has a second-hand account of, as truly “expressing [the need for] comfort of a parent’s leadership and limits.” (146) Somehow, in this instance, “the freedom to make everyone wait while they explore walking ‘as mommy does’ is indulging them with an uncomfortable amount of power.” (147) Versus, the bathtub “no” game?
I reject this premise just as I reject the American belief that teenagers need to engage in risky, unhealthy, illegal behavior in order to learn from mistakes and find themselves.
The N-word: “No”
Lansbury writes over and over about the word “no.” She argues that if you use the word less, it will carry more weight when the situation is dire enough to warrant it. We should use “no” sparingly because children are more inclined to listen when we don’t say it all the time (28); they “tune it out if we use it too much.” (125) Let’s think through this logic: language loses meaning when it isn’t backed up by action. Ergo, yelling the word “spaghetti” at intervals throughout the day will come to mean nothing, after the period of novelty has worn off for our toddler watching us spout a word and then carry on as if we had said nothing. What is so magical about “no?” It is the fact that Lansbury equates “no” with inaction. If she instead taught parents that “no” should be backed up by action, it would be as effective as any other word or explanation. She argues that “no” should be reserved for situations of safety, such as running into the street. (125) But if we only use “no” expecting our kids not to stop, and reserve it for extremely dangerous situations, why would they listen to us then?
But, with all the mixed messages on “no,” let’s close the book with a quote from the founding mother herself: “‘When you say ‘no,’ really mean it. Let your face and posture reflect ‘no’ as well.’ - Magda Gerber” (155) So…we are supposed to say no?
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There are plenty of miscellaneous complaints I have as well, such as her Western-centric mindset and complete oblivion to the influence of culture. And then there was this judgmental, critical, and self-righteous paragraph written to a parent: “If you were a less empathetic, knowledgeable parent, you’d probably spank her or put her in time-out; but since you are respectful and enlightened…” (90; emphasis added) There’s nothing that quite does it like the claim of enlightenment.
Nuggets of truth exist, but they are not rooted in Lansbury’s parenting philosophy nor do you need this book, RIE, or Magda Gerber to learn them. There is objective research to show that modeling behavior helps a child learn regulation and appropriate social interaction. It is also not revolutionary to consider speaking in the first-person and being precise with your language to help a toddler understand you. I have read enough psychology and been exposed to enough childcare resources (foster care, adoption, trauma-based, etc.) to know that Lansbury is not qualified to be writing on these topics. In my estimation, this book is no different from any mom-blogger sharing her personal experiences and opinions to the saturated publication world of non-experts feeling special. If you’re looking for parenting advice, I advise reading someone who has completed peer-reviewed research, or performed experiments to test their hypotheses, or, at minimum, has a degree.