When your toddler is both the victim and villian at daycare
What do you do when your toddler is both the one getting pushed… and the one pulling hair?
Last week, Lark came home with a busted lip and her little stripey top covered in blood. There had been a disagreement on the play tower, and Lark stood her ground – only to be pushed off by a slightly older, much stronger toddler.
Since then, she’s been worried about being pushed by two boys in her room. Let’s call them Ark and Bom Bom.
And here lies the dilemma: what does one do in this situation?
For anyone new to the Boo Crew, I’m a freshly minted mum of a two-year-old toddler called Lark. This is literally my first rodeo. I’m figuring it out as I go along.
The whole thing had been sitting poorly with me, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a quiet word with the daycare educators to make them aware – if they weren’t already.
But the usual educators weren’t there that morning, and a toddler meltdown happened, so the moment slipped away.
As I approached the centre that afternoon, one child let out an almighty noise before dissolving into a crying meltdown. Pretty standard late-afternoon daycare goblin vibes… except when the noise is accompanied by a dramatic “Laaaaark!”
I walked in to see Lark hugging the boy with a swift “sorry”, in only the cutest way toddlers do.
Except the educator looked frazzled, and the boy’s mother was hugging him.
Turns out, Lark had pulled a chunk of hair out of his head.
Whhhhhhyyyyyy…?!
I was horrified as the educator proceeded to tell me how “cheeky” (daycare code for naughty) Lark has been recently. Apparently, she’s been pushing and pinching the other toddlers.
A recently developed behaviour, I’m tipping, started after the busted-lip incident.
But here’s the dilemma.
When faced with a frazzled educator and a fresh daycare crime scene, now is definitely not the time to raise the pushing boys. I’ll look defensive.
So I did what I imagine good mums are supposed to do.
I sat Lark down on the big blue poof and we had a serious toddler-level conversation about the Four No’s.
No hitting.
No pulling hair.
No pushing.
No biting.
Because they hurt.
“But Ark and Bom Bom push Lark.”
Oooff.
It was connected.
And once again, another dilemma.
I was a toddler in the 1980s – a time that feels like the Wild West compared to the gentle parenting of the 2020s. We’ve come a long way, which makes me happy.
But still.
Back in my day, I was taught to push them back.
Especially if a boy pushes you. Push him back and he won’t do it again.
But that doesn’t fly anymore, so the reprogramming happened on the fly. Followed by some careful desk research using a resource we also didn’t have back in my day – the internet.
It’s hard to know whether toddlers really understand.
We left and walked towards the playground, where the boy’s mum was hovering nearby. She didn’t say it directly, but I’m pretty sure she hovered mostly to make sure I was okay and to express that there were no hard feelings.
She’s a bit of a legend with all the kids, mostly because she’s down-to-earth and kind.
Her boy, one of the older ones in the toddler room, went through the same thing six months ago with a few of the others who are that little bit more toddler-wise.
That kindness sat with me, deep in my chest.
Being a parent is hard.
It feels isolating at times.
Plus, emotionally confusing. I’m devastated by the idea that my little one is hurting other kids – even if it is only a phase.
The other toddler’s mum gave me the adult equivalent of a much-needed toddler hug.
I hope she can feel me hugging her back as I type this, sitting in the car after my physio appointment.
Which I know is wishful thinking.
So I texted what all good mums do.
“What time is pick-up this afternoon? It’s my turn for beers.”
I collected a four-pack of Balter XPAs – the official beer of mum champions – and we chatted and sipped while the toddlers navigated snack politics in the playground.
While the incident remained unspoken, she knew the gesture mattered.
It was my way of hugging her back.
