Everyone tells you about the “terrible twos” when you have a child. A few people will even pull you aside and tell you “now two wasn’t so bad, but three was rough”. No one tells you honestly about the four year old. If they did, people might stop having babies I am convinced. We seemed to fly under the radar when it came to the “terrible twos”. During my son’s third year there would occasionally be burst of temper or some talking back and I’d think “oh this must be what they are talking about”. I secretly thought that my child must be better behaved than his terrible two peers. Then William turned four this spring. No one had told me about this. I was totally unprepared. It was a humbling experience.

I started really observing William loosing control and having tantrums (a polite word for fits) just a few weeks before he turned four. He would become whiney and emotional which would escalate to physically hitting, kicking, and screaming over any little thing. There didn’t seem to be a parenting book that addressed this for the four year old age. Most of the books about spirited, strong willed or intense children spoke to that two year old again. Was it just mine? I wondered. Then I emailed my mom’s group and described what I was experiencing with William. Next, came an outpouring of “I thought I was the only one”, everyone commiserating over how miserable life in the home had became with a four year old. We all agreed it seemed like the terrible twos but with an older child’s strength and extended verbal abilities. A cleverer well designed version of the terrible twos.

During the fourth year, a parent will likely deal with the child using profanity, becoming obsessive about death, a tendency towards playing guns and other violent play, stealing, lying, talking back to you, challenging the need for authority, giving up naptime, fighting bedtime, uncontrollable emotional outburst, intensified whining, tattling, bullying, hitting and kicking. If you could bottle the energy of a four year old and sell it as a pill for adults, you’d be a millionaire. They can play actively for hours and hours a day physically and still not be exhausted. Their minds work overtime and you’ll be asked at least 100 questions about how the world works by lunchtime. I’ve never understood parents who don’t enforce a regular bedtime, because by the time 7pm rolls around at my house, I’m exhausted. My son could easily go for hours longer. Four year olds are relentless. Four year olds do not show their parents mercy.

We welcomed a new baby into our home in January. A few weeks after the birth, I finally found the courage to go to the grocery store with both kids. We’d been out of groceries for days, and take out was getting old. I didn’t want to ask my husband to stop on the way home from work, because then it would take longer for him to get home. I knew I needed his help (and all the help I could get) and I didn’t want to sacrifice that. The area we lived in didn’t offer grocery delivery service. We had been cooped in the house for weeks (it was wintertime) and it seemed like a practical idea. As we got to the grocery store, I found one of those huge carts that have a car on the end for the older kids. It was cumbersome to push, but I could buckle William in and still have Jessica in the cart. I began at the produce isle. As I was bagging an onion, I noticed William had pulled a Houdini move and had escaped. I saw him over at the apples, picking up each apple, taking a bite out of it, and then putting it back. By the time I got to him, he’d gone through at least 5 apples. As I was cleaning that mess up, he went over to the tomatoes where he found it delightful to stick his fingers into them, one by one, and see the juice squirt out. I came after him—large heavy cart in tow. After all, I couldn’t leave the baby in the cart unattended. I was clearly outnumbered. I would have been disciplinarian mom and made us leave the store immediately, except I seriously needed a few groceries from the store that day. I made him hold my hand (not easy, considering I was pushing the Moby Dick of grocery carts) and walk with me. As we walked down the isle of glass spaghetti sauces, he decided it would be fun to stick out a hand and knock them all over the floor. The thrill of the glass shattering, then the splat of tomato sauce was just too much to resist. Once we made it to the cash register, where the nice supermarket enjoys the extra fun of putting the candy bars for us parents, William began demanding some candy. I said no (why on Earth would I give him sugar to add to my problems?). He took a candy and began screaming and whining at the top of his lungs. I have paid for my groceries and they are bagging them up at this point when he takes the candy, screaming like a wild person, and proceeds to run off through the store. I grabbed the baby, left my purse on the cart and took up chase. By the time I caught the child, he was completely on the other side of the store. I had to carry him, with the baby, kicking and screaming out of the store.

I decided my expectations were too high. William was just turning four and adjusting to a new sibling. My next solo outing with the kids would be more child-friendly. I took them to the toy store. We’d been at the store a few minutes when the baby had an explosive poop. To make matters worse there was no changing table in the toy store or any of the nearby stores. I couldn’t change the baby in the car, because it was only 15 degrees outside. I also discovered that I had left the diaper wipes at home. I told William it was time to go and we’d come back again. He asked for a toy and I told him not today. He handled this amazingly well and gave up persisting after only a few attempts. As we walked out to the car I congratulated him on how well he had behaved, how proud I was of him, and what a big helper he was being. As we got to the car, it had begun to snow, and I could not get the car seat to detach from the stroller. I spent a good 5 minutes fiddling with it. The baby was screaming, and we were freezing. As we finally got into the car, I noticed William playing with an unfamiliar toy. When I asked where he got it, he replied “I took it from the store!” and laughed mischievously. In an ideal world, I wanted him to go back into the store and give the toy back, but the baby was screaming, the snow was getting worse, and I didn’t want to get two small kids out of the van. I drove up right in front of the store, left the kids in the car and walked the toy to the door. As we were driving home (and my blood pressure was starting to see smaller digits) I told William we needed to have a talk about stealing. I tried the “stealing is wrong” “we don’t take things that don’t belong to us” kind of talks first. It was apparent to me that William felt no remorse. Finally, I told him when you steal you’ll be taken to jail because it’s against the law. I reminded him how George the monkey had to go to jail in Curious George, a part of the storybook William always found scary. This seemed to get through. We talked about how scary it would be to go to jail without mommy and daddy and how in jail there are no toys. He asked me if they made you eat bad food in jail. I said yes. He asked if they made you eat dogs in jail. I said no dogs, but what would you consider “bad food”? He told me pasta without sauce. I told him in jail the only thing you get to eat was pasta without sauce. He told me he would never steal again. Mission accomplished. Not exactly the parenting approach I had planned, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The more we get into the fours, the more I am convinced it doesn’t really matter the type of discipline approach you use. Unless you are blessed to have one of those four years who will modify their behavior easily (and I personally have not met any of these type of four year olds), I don’t really think one disciplinary method is more effective than any other assuming you do, in fact, have some sort of discipline strategy. At two it was easy for me to be anti-spanking. At four there are times when I feel like spanking but I know I’d just be doing it out of anger. Plus, I see other parents who are spanking and it’s not working any better than any of the other disciplinary measures being taken. We’ve tried talking, time outs, and taking away privileges all with limited success. I’m just convinced that four is a challenging age. The point is to be consistent, pick your battles, have patience, and be prepared. When it comes to the mommy wars over discipline approaches, however, I think that is one war that can be laid to rest. After all, four will be a humbling age even to supermom. We don’t own toy guns, but William can make his finger a gun. Even if you don’t swear around your kids, they’ll pick it up from another kid.

There also parts of four that are extraordinary and sheer bliss. My son is ravenous for information and knowing how things work. It’s a good age to being reading fun chapter books to them that you loved as a child, it’s a good age to plant a garden, to see them draw a picture that you can actually decipher, and to have big conversations. William is fascinated by hot air balloons and can tell you all about how they work, why the air is heated so it becomes light and rises in the air, and will pretend he is flying on a hot air balloon. He is very interested in the galaxy and other planets. As I put him to bed the other night, I told him I loved him to the moon and back. A few minutes after I’d left his room he came out and said “mommy, I got to tell you one other thing. I love you to Pluto and back—and that is really far!” How can you not love these moments? The thing is, these are the moments you record in the baby books. You just leave out the stealing, hitting, and swearing.

Last week at playgroup, he and a friend decided to pull down their pants in the backyard and chase another friend around trying to urinate on the kid. Of course, I was horrified and curiously wondering “can you even pee while you run?” at the same time. When I asked William why he was behaving this way, he simply said “it was a hot day and we just wanted to make sprinklers for all the kids to play in, mom”. His intentions were only the best. We just had to discuss why “man made” sprinklers are not appropriate. So, William and I are slowly but surely surviving four together. We are talking about emotions, how to properly behave, and learning about values. I figure if we can just get past four, then we will survive…well, until its time for puberty.