In The Woman's Voice Clinic

We record here examples of the ways in which certain mothers have handled the problems of children and adolescents. Do not expect, dear reader, that these suggestions will be magic prescriptions ready-made for every case; you must adapt them to your own need and to the nature of the problem itself.

• Little Widad, who is four years old, was playing in the garden one day, and the moment she saw me heading toward the house I heard her scream, “Mama, wait for me!” During that period I noticed that she always followed me whenever I went indoors, and I began to wonder why this was, and why she would not stay outside by herself. I found that she could not open the back door, since its handle was higher than she could reach. So my husband afterward fitted a low handle, by which Widad could open the door without anyone's help. From then on she felt sure that she could come into the house whenever she wished; and that was all the child needed to feel safe and at ease. After that she played in the garden by herself.

• My husband and I are very fond of taking our meals outside the house, but our four-year-old daughter used to cause us many an awkward moment. She is quickly satisfied, and then takes to wandering among the people eating in the restaurant, so that we were obliged to spend the rest of the meal chasing after her or holding on to her. I discovered a way of amusing my daughter once she has finished her own food: I give her a notebook and colored pencils, and she settles down to drawing with great pleasure until we have finished our meal. She has grown used to sitting at the table for longer and longer, and I believe we shall soon be able to do without this way of amusing her. In any case we are the gainers, for we take our pleasure in eating out in a pleasant, restful atmosphere.

• My husband and I were troubled in mind over our little daughter, who had reached the age of two, for the rate of her fits of obstinacy was increasing day by day. After reading everything we could read on the subject, and after asking the nurse at the public health center for our district, we found that we would have to make changes in our home and our way of living before expecting her to improve. “Layla” and “Anis” were twins, and when they reached their fifth month we had to separate them, since “Anis” cried most of the night while “Layla” was a quiet baby who slept the sleep of the angels. So we put her bed in a room on the upper floor, keeping “Anis's” bed in the room next to our bedroom so that we could go to him in the night. Only then did we notice that “Layla” had been feeling neglected, banished as she was every night to the second floor. So we moved her into “Anis's” room, and her father began to pay her special attention, while I stopped magnifying trifling matters and scolding her for the least thing. With time, our little daughter became a girl graced with the sweetest qualities and the best of habits — the darling girl she was created to be.

• When I weaned my son, at two years old, from drinking his milk from the bottle-teat and began giving it to him in a cup, the amount he drank fell off so far that I grew anxious on his account. I found myself intensely taken up with the question of my son's milk-drinking — and that was more than was good for him. So I collected a number of cups of different colors and shapes and set them out for my son Michel on a little shelf within reach of his hand. It delighted him greatly to choose the cup he would drink his milk from, and his response to the words “Which cup do you want to drink your milk in?” was far better than his response to the words “Drink your milk now!”

• My son, aged two and a half, was forever losing things. To spare him tantrums over this, I began the following game. When I heard him repeating in a mournful voice, “I've lost it, I've lost it,” I answered him, “Well now, where can it be? Is it in your shoe, or in your sock?” And I did the same every time in such a case, reciting in his hearing the strange places where things might be hidden. He entered into the spirit of the game at once, answering, “No, it isn't there — it's on my head!” — which set us both laughing. After some time had passed, I found that he had really begun to remember where he might have put his things.