We’ve been visiting a child psychologist  for the past few months in an attempt to help my young son cope with his father going away on military assignment, so I’m learning a lot about the best ways to ask for compliance from him.

I’ll pause while everyone chuckles over the idea of trying to get consistent compliance from a young child. Go ahead; I’ll wait.

Although I’ve been somewhat skeptical about some of the psychologist’s instructions, some of the things she has taught me have worked so well that I wonder why in the world I hadn’t heard about them before. One of the methods I learned from her recently was the 5 Second Rule.

What’s the 5 Second Rule?

I’m glad you asked. The psychologist and I were talking about how sometimes it seems as though my son simply ignores my requests, such as to pick up his toy or to hold my hand in a parking lot. She explained to me that children of this age may take a little longer to process a request, which I understand, and then she told me that after I make a request I am supposed to count to five in my head before asking again. She told me that I will be surprised at how effective this method is.

So here I am thinking to myself, “Count to five? What good will that do?” Since I am determined to do whatever I can to make life easier for my son while his dad is away, though, I tell myself I’ll give it a shot. In fact, I got my first opportunity as we were leaving the psychologist’s office. He stopped short of the door so I said, “Please go to the door, buddy.” Instead of quickly following this with my normal, “Come on!” or “Let’s go!” or my default, “Dude, listen to me!” I merely counted in my head: “1-2-3-4-5.”

Something very interesting happened. Right around the time I got to 4, he started moving toward the door. It was as if I had just witnessed his cognitive processes humming along and had unlocked a secret timeline.

I tried it again when we got home. I opened his car door and said, “Please get out of the car.” As usual, he sat there thumbing through his books, but instead of pulling him out of the car myself I counted in my head again. Right before I made it to 5, he started getting out of his seat.

The psychologist says it’s crucial to not do the counting aloud, or to even reveal to your child that you’re counting in your head because this will give your child something to challenge. Instead, it’s an internal gauge that you use before you repeat your request.

I’m not saying it works all the time, but until I started using this method I didn’t realize how quick I am to repeat a request. Now that I’ve started counting in my head, we have a lot less pleading from me and fewer protests from him.

It’s a parenting quandary that has been around for years: which is harder, the adjustment from having no kids to having kids, or going from one child to two (or more)? When my husband and I found out that we were expecting baby number 2, it was a question we asked every parent we knew who had more than one child. The responses were mixed. Each parent firmly believed that they had the right answer, and they did – for their family. However, it goes without saying that each family is different, and the only way to know the answer for yourself is to experience it.

At first, we just believed whatever anyone told us – that is, when it was what we wanted to hear. Oh, they’d say, going from zero to one is hard! Once you have one, any additional kids are a cake walk. After all, you’ve experienced it once – you are a pro!

It turns out, this couldn’t have been further from the truth. Yes, we had experienced it once – we already had a daughter. Our second born is a boy and, for us, the experience was like being new parents all over again. The difference in his anatomy forced us to change our diaper changing process (more wash cloths were kept handy next to the changing pad to deflect or absorb any spraying that inevitably took place once he was de-diapered). And he is, of course, a different person from our daughter and responds differently to, well, everything. She liked being swaddled; he kicks off the blankets. He sucks his thumb; she never did. He nurses; she was bottle fed. He laughs easily and often; she is still one of the most serious kids we’ve ever met.

Despite their similar DNA, they are two decidedly different people – and two is definitely harder than one, at least for our family.

If you have more than one child, which was a harder transition for you?