When I became a parent, I worried about plenty of things, but tantrums were not one of them. I spent most of my teen years babysitting, taking on the tantrums of more than 20 different children. I was confident I could negotiate my way out of a hostage situation with the ease of a trained professional.
That is, until I met my daughter. This kid has BIG feelings. Huge. Most often they’re great feelings, but when they’re not … RUN!
For months, I dreaded those explosive meltdowns, but she gradually outgrew them. Now that tantrums are few and far between, I’ve actually come to miss them. What kind of maniac would WANT tantrums, you ask? You’re lookin’ at her.
Whether you’re terrified of the terrible twos or have a deviant threenager on your hands, take a deep breath. The tears, the flying legs, the sadistic demands, the dirty looks from passersby in the cereal aisle — they’re all worth it. Here’s why I embraced tantrums, and why you should, too.
…But Kids Can!
FamilyMinded
We are required to find other ways to manage our emotions, and despite our best efforts they aren’t always healthy. Screaming in Target, on the other hand, does not clog your arteries or damage your liver. It’s out of control, but it’s cathartic.
When was the last time you threw yourself onto the cold tile floor and screamed? Probably not since you were three. (Though if it was last week, I won’t judge.) Having the freedom to let it all out without worrying what anyone will think is a privilege held by the very young and the very old. All of us in the middle are stuck with meditation, therapy and too much fast food. While tantrums don’t resolve problems directly, they do serve a purpose from a developmental standpoint.
Tantrums can be important indicators that children are getting more tired, hungry or frustrated than they can handle. Learning to express and control emotions is also a process, and tantrums are a natural part of it. Do your best to remain calm and help your child work out their feelings as gently as possible. If all else fails, remember this stage is short-lived; let your kids scream on the floor while they still can!
They Give You a Long Hard Look in the Mirror…
FamilyMinded
I know I said I love tantrums, and I meant it. There is so much good stuff to find under all the tears and chaos. It’s beautiful, but a lot of the time it also straight up sucks. My daughter went through a phase, you see. She hated long sleeves. She hated pants. She hated socks. Her shoes were “a little too loose and tight.” She had enough clothes to stock a goodwill, and I allowed her to choose any of them. I did not give a rat’s ass what she looked like. Child services, however, would have given many rats’ asses had I dropped her off at school in the nude.
“JUST GET IN THE F?!*ING CAR!”
This is how I found myself in my garage yelling my head off at a bare-ass naked three-year-old. My daughter’s school is on a private nature reserve, so the gate to get inside is only open for 15 minutes. If you miss it, you’re not going to school. Being late is not an option. Three and I discussed this. She nodded and smiled. She understood, she said. She would cooperate, she said.
Cooperate she did not. She tried on six pairs of shoes. No dice. Her shoes were broken, and we were out of time. In desperation, I carried her, shoeless, to the garage. Did three like that? She did not. She decided that her shirt wasn’t feeling so great either. Or her shorts. In fact, she was allergic to all of her clothes. I lost it.
…Even When It Isn’t Pretty
FamilyMinded
“JUST GET IN THE CAR. I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE NAKED. JUST GET IN OR I WILL HAVE TO MAKE YOU,” I shouted.
She did not. She became a human two-by-four. “OH MY GOD JUST BEND. I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU,” I yelled, trying to fit a rectangular human through a car door and flatten her into a car seat.
As I leaned my weight into this small, furious, flailing being, thinking of how late we were and wondering if a shoe allergy was a real thing, I caught sight of my reflection in the rearview mirror. A vein was popping out of my neck. My jaw was clenched, my eyes stormy. Oh dear. If someone looked at me that way, I’d be mad, too. Scared, even. That tantrum was a wake up call. After all, how can I expect three to manage her emotions if I can’t manage my own?
