Thunder and the Terrified Toddler

[Bluebell]

Any tips on how to reassure my daughter (20 months) who is terrified of thunder and lightning? There have been occasional storms here in the south-west and, understandably, she finds them dreadfully upsetting, shaking and screaming 'oh no, oh no' at the window. The problem is that now she finds it hard to settle at night, even if it is a perfectly calm evening. She will cry and point at the window and say 'oh no, mummy, oh no'. It is heart-rending! I have been giving her lots of cuddles, but obviously its impossible to predict if there is or isnt going to be a storm - I hate saying 'thunder all gone now' when suddenly there is another rumble!
We've just come in from the garden as an aeroplane went over and she said 'tunder!' and disappeared into the house in tears. I know storms are a perfectly understandable fear, but I'd love to hear from anyone who has any motherly advice! Thanks.

There was an episode of the dreaded Tweenies which was all about a thunderstorm, maybe you could get it on video.....?!

Or tell her about how it's just the clumsy clouds bumping into each other and play a game bumping into each other making alot of noise.

My mum used to tell us it was the clouds just playing bumper cars. My husbands mum used to tell him something similar, cant remember this minute what it was. It can be scary, it made my son cry when we had a very big storm a few weeks ago.
I love to watch storms and hope I can pass this to my son.

As a child, I was always told it was "God moving his furniture around"! We have adapted this (since we're not church goers and my 3 year old has no concept of God as yet) to "Grandad moving his chair to get a better view" as we had previously told him that my dad now lived in the clouds. This has also helped with him getting over the loss of his beloved Grandad and he now loves storms as he thinks Grandad is looking down on him.

Hi Bluebell, it is a tricky one because at 20 months your daughter's logic isn't going to be very sophisticated. How about finding a toy aeroplane or drawing one and making an aeroplane noise so that she gets to know that it is different to thunder.
As for the thunder itself, I think it is really difficult because I know that at 20 months my son would not have understood about clouds having a fight or God's furniture moving. That is not to belittle those explanations but I just think they are probably better for slightly older children. My feeling is just to keep going with the reassurance. I would keep telling your daughter that yes it is thunder but that it is OK, mummy is here, that the thunder is in the sky, far away and that she is OK. I think with really little ones, you just have to keep repeating the same, simple message over and over. I also think that on nights when you are pretty sure that there is not going to be any storms to say to her that there will be no thunder tonight.
With any luck and autumn not too far away, you may get through the rest of the year without many more storms.

Thanks everyone for your advice! Bugsy, you are absolutely right and I suppose reassurance is all I can offer - why as a mum do I feel I should be able to make all bad things just disappear?? Anyway, we have been storm free for the last few days, but now she is starting to need reassurance that there are no lions or bears outside, so I think she's going through a nervous stage, poor little chick.

Well I have a phobia of Thunder and have had it since I was about 2yrs old and my Nan put her fingers in her ears due to a storm. Me being only 2 I copied her and it has stuck ever since. I am now 36 and though still cant listen to thunder, I now have a responsibility not to pass the phobia on to him.
I have got to be the big strong dad in front of him when we have a storm. I want to be able to hold him while its thundering, make sure he is ok and for me to put aside my own fear which in turn will help me deal with it.

I am determined not to let the past repeat itself, and have something that simply cannot hurt you ruin another life.

Steve