Want More Expert Parenting Tips?
Join thousands of parents who get our free weekly guides on baby care, milestones, and development activities.
No spam, ever. Unsubscribe anytime.
Join thousands of parents who get our free weekly guides on baby care, milestones, and development activities.
No spam, ever. Unsubscribe anytime.
For the parent who feels like they've ruined their firstborn's life — you haven't, and this guide will show you exactly why
Your toddler was potty trained, sleeping through the night, and using their words. They were eating with a fork, saying "I do it myself," and becoming this incredible little person right before your eyes. Then the new baby arrived. And now your "big kid" wants a bottle, is having accidents, waking up screaming at 2 AM, and won't let go of your leg. They're throwing tantrums over nothing. They're hitting the baby. They're talking in a voice they haven't used since they were 12 months old. You're juggling a newborn who needs you every two hours AND a toddler who is acting like a baby again — and you are exhausted, guilty, and wondering if you've ruined your firstborn's life by bringing another child into the family.
Let me say something to you right now, before we go any further: you have not ruined your firstborn. You have not broken them. You have not made a mistake. What your toddler is going through — the regression, the clinginess, the tantrums, the baby behavior — is one of the most well-documented, predictable, and temporary phenomena in child development. It has a name. It has a timeline. It has a resolution. And the fact that you are here, reading this article, trying to understand what's happening instead of just punishing the behavior, tells me your child is going to be absolutely fine.
This article will explain exactly what toddler regression after a new baby looks like, why it happens (the neuroscience is actually fascinating), how long it typically lasts, what you can do to help — and critically, what you should NOT do. I've structured this as the guide I wish someone had handed me in the hospital parking lot, sitting in the backseat between a newborn car seat and a toddler who refused to look at me.
Toddler regression after a new baby is not a sign that something is wrong with your child. It is a sign that your child's attachment system is working exactly as it should. They love you so much that the perceived threat of losing you has activated every coping mechanism they have. The regression is not the problem — it is the symptom. The message underneath it is simple: "I'm scared. Do you still love me? Am I still important?" Once your toddler has the answer to that question — and they will, through your actions — the regression resolves.
Toddler regression after a new baby is a temporary return to earlier developmental behaviors in an older child following the arrival of a sibling. A child who was previously independent in feeding, sleeping, toileting, or communication may begin exhibiting behaviors they had outgrown — wanting bottles, having potty accidents, using baby talk, demanding to be carried, or experiencing sleep disruptions. This is not a loss of skill. The skills are still there. What has changed is the child's emotional state, and that emotional disruption is temporarily overriding their ability to use those skills consistently.
To understand why this happens, you need to understand attachment theory — specifically John Bowlby's foundational work on how young children form bonds with their primary caregivers. Bowlby demonstrated that children develop an internal working model of their attachment relationship: a mental map of "Am I safe? Is my caregiver available? Will they come when I need them?" This model is not intellectual — it is felt. It operates in the limbic system, not the prefrontal cortex. When a new baby arrives, the toddler's attachment system perceives a threat. Not a rational threat — your toddler cannot reason about resource allocation or divided attention. But a felt threat: the person I depend on for survival is now holding, feeding, and comforting someone else. A lot. All the time.
The regression behaviors are not random. They are strategically targeted — even though your toddler is not consciously strategizing. The behaviors that reappear are specifically the ones your child associates with receiving caregiving attention: being fed (bottles), being changed (potty accidents), being held (clinginess), being soothed (sleep disruptions). Your toddler has observed that the baby receives intensive attention for these exact behaviors, and their attachment system has drawn the logical conclusion: if I do what the baby does, I'll get what the baby gets.
Researchers at the University of Michigan found that approximately 90% of firstborn children exhibit at least some regressive behavior in the weeks following a sibling's birth. This is not an exception — it is the norm. The 10% who don't show overt regression are not necessarily adjusting better; they may be internalizing their distress rather than externalizing it. The toddler who is having loud tantrums and demanding bottles is actually showing you something. The toddler who is quietly withdrawing and losing interest in play may be struggling just as much, with fewer visible signals.
Regression can look different from child to child, but these are the behaviors parents report most frequently. Your toddler may show one or two of these, or they may show all ten. Both are within the range of normal.
This is the regression behavior that distresses parents the most — and understandably so. You spent weeks or months potty training. It worked. And now your toddler is wetting their pants multiple times a day, sometimes deliberately standing in the room and peeing on the floor. Toileting regression after a new sibling is so common that pediatric urologists consider it a routine presentation. The mechanism is twofold: first, the emotional stress of the transition disrupts the executive function chain required for continence (recognizing the signal, inhibiting the urge, navigating to the bathroom). Second, your toddler sees the baby getting diapers changed with gentle, intimate attention — and some part of them wants that experience again.
Your toddler was drinking from a regular cup. Now they want a bottle. They may point to the baby's bottle and say "mine" or "I want that." They may cry at mealtime until you give them a bottle. This is one of the most straightforward regression behaviors: the baby has a bottle, the baby gets held and fed with a bottle, so the toddler wants a bottle too. This is also one of the easiest regressions to accommodate — let them have the bottle. The novelty wears off quickly.
Your toddler had a vocabulary of 200 words and was stringing together sentences. Now they're babbling, pointing, whining, and using "goo-goo" sounds they haven't made in a year. Language regression after a new sibling is an attention-seeking behavior in the truest sense — your child is seeking the attention they need by mimicking the communication style that they see the baby using. It is disorienting and sometimes heartbreaking to hear your articulate child suddenly talking like an infant, but it is temporary. Do not correct it or demand they "use their words." Respond to the communication warmly, and the real language will come back as soon as the anxiety subsides.
Your toddler was sleeping through the night. Now they're waking up screaming, refusing to go to bed, fighting bedtime for hours, wanting to sleep in your bed, or having nightmares. Toddler sleep regression after a new baby is driven by separation anxiety — the fear that while they're asleep, you'll be with the baby and not available to them. Bedtime is when the anxiety peaks because bedtime means separation. Some toddlers also regress to wanting to sleep in a crib after seeing the baby in one, or wanting to be rocked to sleep after watching you rock the newborn.
Your independent toddler — the one who ran ahead of you at the park and explored every room without looking back — is now velcroed to your leg. They cry when you leave the room. They follow you to the bathroom. They scream when Dad tries to take them so you can nurse the baby. This is the attachment system in overdrive: your child perceives a threat to their primary bond, and their instinct is to physically attach to you to prevent the loss. It is exhausting, but it is actually a healthy sign — your child is securely attached enough to protest when that attachment feels threatened.
Tantrums are the overflow valve of toddler emotions. When a child's emotional system is overwhelmed — and the arrival of a sibling is overwhelming — tantrums increase because the child's capacity to regulate has been exceeded. You may notice tantrums over things that never bothered them before: the wrong cup, the wrong shirt, a cracker breaking in half. These are not about the cup, the shirt, or the cracker. They are about the massive, unnameable feelings of displacement and fear that your toddler cannot articulate. The small triggers are just the last straw on an already overloaded system.
Hitting, pushing, pinching, poking, throwing things at the baby, or "hugging" the baby too hard. This is the regression behavior that scares parents the most, and for good reason — the baby's safety is paramount. But it's important to understand that toddler aggression toward a new sibling is not malice. It is a combination of jealousy (this person is getting what I want), curiosity (what happens if I touch them), limited impulse control (the prefrontal cortex is still under construction), and frustration with no verbal outlet. Never leave your toddler unsupervised with the baby during this period. Intervene before the hit, not after. Name the feeling: "You're angry. I understand. I won't let you hurt the baby."
Your toddler who was walking, running, and climbing everything now wants to be picked up constantly. "Carry me. Hold me. Up, up, up." This is a direct mirror of what they see happening with the baby — the baby is held all day, carried everywhere, never put down. Your toddler wants to be held because holding is the most primal form of attachment behavior. It signals safety, connection, and priority. When your toddler asks to be carried, they are asking: "Am I still your baby too?"
A toddler who was feeding themselves with a spoon may suddenly refuse to eat unless you feed them. They may push their plate away, demand to sit in your lap, or want to be spoon-fed like a baby. Mealtime regression is another domain where the toddler is replicating baby behaviors to receive baby-level caregiving. Like the bottle request, this is generally a low-stakes regression that resolves on its own within a few weeks. Feed them if they want to be fed. Make mealtimes warm and connected. This is not the time to enforce independence.
Self-soothing regression. Your toddler who gave up the pacifier months ago now wants it back, or they've started sucking their thumb intensively. Oral self-soothing behaviors are among the earliest coping mechanisms infants develop, and when stress escalates, the nervous system reaches back for the most familiar calming tools. If your child wants a pacifier for a few weeks after the baby arrives, let them have it. Dental concerns from temporary pacifier use in this age range are minimal. The stress of the transition is the bigger issue to address.
Every single one of these regression behaviors has the same underlying message: "I need you. I'm scared I've lost you. Please show me I'm still important." Once you see the pattern, you stop seeing a "misbehaving" toddler and start seeing a frightened child doing the only thing they know how to do to get their needs met. That shift in perspective is the single most important thing that will help your family through this transition.
This is the question every exhausted parent of two wants answered, and the honest answer is: it depends. But "it depends" is not helpful at 3 AM when you're nursing a newborn and your toddler is screaming for a bottle from the other room, so let me give you concrete timelines based on what we see in clinical practice and developmental research.
Several factors can cause regression to persist longer than the typical window:
| Toddler Age | Typical Regression Duration | Common Behaviors | Key Factor |
|---|---|---|---|
| 18 months | 3-8 weeks | Clinginess, sleep disruption, feeding regression | Limited language; needs physical reassurance |
| 2 years | 2-6 weeks | Potty accidents, tantrums, baby talk, aggression | Peak separation anxiety age; most intense reaction |
| 3 years | 2-4 weeks | Potty regression, demanding attention, defiance | Better language to process; can be talked through it |
| 4 years | 1-3 weeks | Behavioral testing, jealousy, wanting baby items | Understands the situation cognitively; needs emotional validation |
You do not need to be a perfect parent to get through this. You do not need to read every book, hire a child psychologist, or find three extra hours in your already impossible day. What you need is a handful of concrete strategies that address the root cause of the regression — your toddler's need for reassurance that they are still loved, still important, and still yours. Here are twelve that work.
This is the single most effective intervention for toddler regression after a new baby. Every day — ideally at a consistent time — give your toddler 10 to 15 minutes of your complete, undivided attention. Not while holding the baby. Not while checking your phone. Not while half-watching TV. Sit on the floor with them. Let them choose the activity. Make eye contact. Be fully, completely present. The research is unambiguous: 15 minutes of concentrated, exclusive attention is more effective at reducing regression behaviors than hours of divided attention. Your toddler doesn't need more of your time. They need a guaranteed slice of time that is unmistakably, exclusively theirs.
Give your toddler a role. Not a passive "go sit over there while I change the baby" role — an active, important one. "Can you bring me a diaper? You're so strong." "Can you sing the baby a song? The baby loves your voice." "Can you pick which onesie the baby wears today? You have the best taste." This transforms the baby from a competitor into a collaborative project. Your toddler goes from feeling displaced to feeling essential. Some parents create a formal "Big Kid Helper" title or a special helper badge. It sounds corny. It works.
Your toddler did not sign up for this. They did not choose to have a sibling. They did not consent to sharing the most important person in their world. Telling a toddler "You have to share Mommy now" is like telling an adult "Your spouse is going to divide their love between you and a stranger who moved in today — and you should be happy about it." Acknowledge the loss. Say "I know it's hard that Mommy has to hold the baby a lot right now. I miss our time together too. After the baby goes to sleep, it's going to be you-and-me time." Validate the feeling instead of demanding they suppress it.
This is counterintuitive, and it's the strategy most parents struggle with. When your toddler starts talking in baby talk, wanting a bottle, or crawling instead of walking — let them. Do not say "Stop acting like a baby" or "You're too old for that" or "Only babies do that." Every one of those statements confirms the toddler's fear that baby behaviors get attention (they're right — they just got a huge reaction) and that being a "big kid" means being ignored while the baby gets all the care. Instead, respond warmly to the regression, meet the need underneath it, and watch how quickly the toddler gets bored of the bottle and goes back to their cup on their own.
Routine is a toddler's emotional scaffolding. When the world changes — and a new sibling changes everything — the routine is what whispers "you're still safe, this is still your life, the important things haven't changed." Keep bedtime the same. Keep mealtimes the same. Keep their bath routine the same. Keep the morning ritual the same. As much as humanly possible with a newborn in the house, protect the toddler's routine. This is not always possible (you will be sleep-deprived, the newborn will be unpredictable, things will fall apart), but the effort matters more than the perfection. Even a partially maintained routine signals stability.
This is a classic strategy from child life specialists, and parents consistently report it works. When the toddler meets the baby for the first time — whether at the hospital or at home — have a small, wrapped gift ready. Tell your toddler it's "from the baby." Something like: "Your new baby sister picked this out for you because she's so excited to have a big brother." The toddler does not need to believe this literally. What it does is create an initial positive association — the baby's arrival coincided with something wonderful happening for them specifically. It reframes the baby from competitor to gift-giver.
Children process complex emotions through stories far more effectively than through direct conversation. Reading books about new siblings gives your toddler a framework, a vocabulary, and a mirror for their feelings. Books like The New Baby by Mercer Mayer, I'm a Big Brother/Sister by Joanna Cole, and Babies Don't Eat Pizza by Dianne Danzig normalize the experience. After reading, you can ask: "Do you ever feel like that? Like you want Mommy all to yourself?" This opens a conversation the toddler might not know how to start on their own.
Your toddler's world has changed, and from their perspective, all the changes are bad: less attention, more noise, a strange new person in their house. Counterbalance this by actively narrating the things that are better, special, or exclusive to being the older child. "You get to eat ice cream — the baby can't do that!" "You get to go to the park and go down the big slide — the baby is too little!" "You get to stay up later than the baby." "You and Daddy get special Saturday morning pancakes — the baby has to have boring milk." Frame being the big kid as a privilege with concrete perks, not a sacrifice with responsibilities.
Here's a triage principle that will save your sanity: pick one or two hills to die on, and surrender the rest. The bottle? Let them have it. The baby talk? Respond warmly and move on. The wanting to be carried? Carry them when you can. The sippy cup? Sure. The crawling on the floor? Cute, let it happen. But potty training? That's worth gently maintaining (not punishing accidents, but keeping the routine). Sleep safety? Non-negotiable. Aggression toward the baby? Always intervene. You cannot fight every battle simultaneously. The small regressions resolve themselves when the big emotional need is met. Focus your energy on the things that matter for health and safety, and let the rest go.
This is the most well-intentioned mistake parents make. "You're a big kid now, you don't need a bottle." "Big kids sleep in their own bed." "Big kids don't cry like that." "You're the big brother/sister, you need to be gentle." Every one of these statements, despite being said with love, communicates the same thing to the toddler: being big means losing things, and being a baby means getting things. You have just made "big kid" synonymous with sacrifice and deprivation. Instead, make "big kid" synonymous with privileges: "Big kids get to choose their own cereal! What do you want today?" "Big kids get to stay up 10 extra minutes for one more book!" "Big kids get to help cook dinner — want to stir?" Privilege, not pressure.
If you have a partner, the first few weeks after the baby arrives is the time for them to become the toddler's primary person. Not because you're abandoning your toddler — but because the newborn biologically needs the birthing parent for feeding, recovery, and bonding, and the toddler needs someone who is 100% available and not physically recovering from childbirth or nursing every 90 minutes. Dad, partner, grandparent — whoever it is — should step into the role of being the toddler's anchor. Bedtime routine. Morning routine. Park trips. Meal prep. Silly play. This is not about replacing you. It is about ensuring your toddler has at least one adult who is consistently, fully available during the most chaotic weeks of the transition.
If you're reading this before the baby is born — or if you're planning for baby number three — preparation makes a significant difference. Talk about the baby in positive but realistic terms: "The baby is going to cry a lot and sleep a lot. They won't be able to play with you right away. But you and I are going to have special time every day." Visit friends who have babies so your toddler sees what newborns actually look like (tiny, boring, not immediately threatening). Let them feel the baby kick. Let them help set up the nursery. If you're moving the toddler out of the crib, do it months before the baby arrives — not the week before, which connects the displacement to the baby's arrival.
If you notice, every single one of these twelve strategies does the same thing from different angles: it reassures your toddler that they are still loved, still important, and still secure in their relationship with you. That's it. That's the entire intervention. The regression is driven by attachment anxiety. The cure is attachment security. Everything else is just the specific method of delivering that message.
Understanding what to avoid is just as important as knowing what to do. These are the responses that, despite being common and understandable, reliably extend and deepen toddler regression after a new baby.
This is the most critical "don't" on this list. When your toddler has a potty accident, do not yell, shame, lecture, or express disappointment. When they talk like a baby, do not mock them or roll your eyes. When they have a tantrum, do not send them to their room with "Go away until you can act like a big kid." Punishment does not extinguish regressive behavior — it amplifies it. Here's why: the regression is driven by a fear of losing your love. Punishment confirms that fear. The child's internal logic becomes: "I'm being bad, they're angry at me, they love the baby more, I was right to be scared." The cortisol spike from being punished further degrades the executive function skills needed for continence, emotional regulation, and sleep — making every regression behavior worse. It is a vicious cycle, and the only person who can break it is the adult.
"The baby doesn't cry like that." "The baby sleeps in their own bed." "Why can't you be calm like the baby?" "Even the baby doesn't make this much mess." Every comparison — even ones meant to be motivating — drives a wedge between your toddler and the baby, reinforcing the toddler's perception that the baby is the "good" child and they are the "problem." It also sets up a sibling rivalry dynamic from day one that can persist for years. Your toddler is not in competition with the baby. They are two different people at two different developmental stages with two different sets of needs. Comparisons are never helpful, even when they feel true.
"Give the baby a kiss." "Say you love your sister." "Be gentle — hold the baby's hand." "Don't you want to hold the baby?" Forced affection breeds resentment. If your toddler doesn't want to touch, hold, or interact with the baby, that is fine. It is actually more than fine — it is honest, and it is safe. Forcing a reluctant, emotionally overwhelmed toddler to physically engage with a newborn creates a setup for rough handling, accidental harm, and the toxic association of "the baby is something I'm forced to perform love toward." Let your toddler come to the baby on their own timeline. They will. Most toddlers become genuinely interested in and affectionate toward the baby within a few weeks — but only if the relationship is allowed to develop organically rather than being forced.
"You're not a baby." "Stop acting like a baby." "Only babies do that." "You're embarrassing yourself." "What's wrong with you? You know better than that." Shame is the most potent accelerant of regression. A child who is shamed for baby behavior does not stop wanting to be a baby — they stop trusting that their parent is a safe person to express needs to. The behavior may temporarily suppress, but the underlying anxiety intensifies, and it will emerge in other ways: aggression, withdrawal, nightmares, self-harm behaviors like hair-pulling, or chronic anxiety. Shame teaches a child that their authentic emotional experience is unacceptable. That lesson, internalized in early childhood, has consequences that extend far beyond the new-baby adjustment period.
The vast majority of toddler regression after a new baby is normal, temporary, and resolves with supportive parenting. However, there are situations where professional evaluation is warranted. Consult your pediatrician or a child psychologist if you observe any of the following:
For most families, toddler regression after a new baby lasts between 2 and 6 weeks when handled with patience and without punishment. Mild regression — a few extra tantrums, some clinginess, occasional baby talk — often resolves within 2 to 3 weeks as the toddler adjusts to the new family dynamic. Moderate regression — potty training accidents, sleep disruptions, significant behavior changes — typically takes 4 to 8 weeks. If regression is met with consistent one-on-one time, maintained routines, and a complete absence of shaming, most toddlers are back to baseline within 2 months. However, if the regression is punished, mocked, or responded to with frustration, it can persist for 3 to 6 months or longer, because the child's core fear — that they have been replaced — is being confirmed by the negative attention. If regression persists beyond 6 months despite supportive parenting, consult your pediatrician to rule out anxiety or other underlying issues.
Completely normal, and in fact expected. Research in developmental psychology shows that the majority of firstborn children display some degree of regressive behavior after a sibling arrives. This is not manipulation, imitation, or 'being bad' — it is an attachment-driven response rooted in Bowlby's attachment theory. Your toddler's entire world has been reorganized. The person they depend on most — you — is now visibly, undeniably focused on someone else. Regressive behaviors like wanting a bottle, using baby talk, wanting to be carried, having potty accidents, and increased clinginess are your child's way of communicating: 'I still need you. Please don't forget about me.' The behaviors that tend to appear — wanting bottles, diapers, being rocked — are specifically the behaviors they see the baby receiving attention for. This is not coincidence. It is a logical (if unconscious) strategy: if being a baby gets you held and fed and attended to, then I will be a baby too. Let the regression happen. Respond with warmth, not correction. It passes.
Toddler aggression toward a new sibling is one of the most alarming — and most common — regression behaviors. It stems from a combination of jealousy, frustration, limited impulse control, and an inability to verbalize complex emotions. Your toddler does not have the language to say 'I feel displaced and scared that you love this baby more than me,' so instead they hit, push, or pinch. It is not malicious intent — it is emotional overflow with an immature prefrontal cortex. The appropriate response is threefold: (1) Always supervise interactions and physically intervene before contact — do not wait for the hit to happen and then react. (2) Name the emotion without shaming the child: 'You're feeling frustrated. I won't let you hit the baby. I can see this is hard.' (3) Give the toddler acceptable outlets for the big feelings — punching a pillow, stomping feet, squeezing a stress ball. Never leave the toddler unsupervised with the baby during the adjustment period, even for a moment. Most aggression toward siblings peaks in weeks 2-4 and fades as the toddler adjusts, provided they feel secure in their attachment to you.
Yes — and this is one of the easier battles to simply not fight. If your toddler wants a bottle after seeing the baby use one, let them have it. In nearly all cases, the novelty wears off within a few days to 2 weeks. Your toddler will quickly remember that they prefer cups, that bottles are slow, and that they actually enjoy the independence of drinking like a 'big kid.' Refusing the bottle, on the other hand, turns it into a forbidden object and intensifies the desire. The same applies to pacifiers, sippy cups, and wanting to be rocked. These are low-stakes regressions. Let them happen. Save your energy for the things that actually matter — safety, basic routines, and sleep. The bottle is not the hill to die on. Your toddler is not going to college with a bottle because you let them have one for a week after their sibling was born.
The single most effective strategy is dedicated, daily one-on-one time — even if it is only 10 to 15 minutes. The key is that during this time, the toddler has your complete, undivided attention. No phone. No glancing at the baby monitor. No multitasking. Let the toddler choose the activity. Get on the floor with them. Make eye contact. Narrate what they're doing with genuine interest. This concentrated dose of attention is more powerful than hours of divided attention. Other strategies: (1) Involve your toddler as a 'helper' — fetching diapers, singing to the baby, choosing the baby's outfit. This gives them a role and a sense of importance. (2) Use baby's nap times for toddler time, not chores. The dishes can wait. (3) Enlist your partner, family, or friends to hold the baby so you can be fully present with your firstborn. (4) Narrate your love out loud: 'I love spending time with you. You are so important to me.' Toddlers need to hear it explicitly during this transition. (5) Create rituals that are just yours — a special bedtime song, a morning snuggle, a weekly 'date' to the park. These anchors of predictability help your toddler feel secure.
I know what you're feeling right now. I know because every parent who has searched "toddler regression after new baby" at midnight while nursing a newborn and listening to their toddler cry in the next room is feeling some version of the same thing: guilt. Crushing, all-consuming guilt. The guilt of wondering if you made a mistake. The guilt of watching your firstborn struggle and feeling like you caused it. The guilt of not being able to be two people at once. The guilt of sometimes — in your most exhausted, honest moments — wishing you could go back to when it was just the two of you.
That guilt is a lie. You have not ruined your child's life. You have changed it — yes. You have disrupted it — temporarily. But you have also given your child something that, over the course of their lifetime, will become one of the most important relationships they will ever have. You have given them a sibling. A person who will know them longer than anyone else on earth. A person who will share their childhood memories, their inside jokes, their family holidays, their grief when you are gone. The adjustment is hard. The first weeks are brutal. But the long game? The long game is extraordinary.
Your toddler is not permanently damaged. They are temporarily disoriented. They are going through the biggest change of their short life, and they are doing it the only way a toddler can — loudly, messily, with tantrums and accidents and baby talk and clinginess. And underneath all of that noise is a child who loves you so fiercely that the idea of sharing you is terrifying. That is not a problem. That is love. And it is going to be okay.
The regression will end. Your toddler will adjust. One morning you'll walk into the nursery and find your toddler singing to the baby, or bringing them a toy, or gently patting their head and saying "It's okay, baby." And in that moment, you'll know — not just intellectually, but in your bones — that you didn't ruin anything. You built a family.
The fact that you searched for this article, that you read this far, that you are trying to understand your toddler's behavior instead of just punishing it — that tells me everything I need to know about what kind of parent you are. Your toddler is lucky to have you. Both of your children are. The regression is a season. It will pass. And on the other side of it, you'll have two kids who love you and — eventually, imperfectly, beautifully — love each other. You're doing an amazing job. Even on the days when it doesn't feel like it. Especially on those days.