Mumstrife

By Emma Thompson

How to Handle Toddler Tantrums: A Survival Guide

You ever lock eyes with another parent across the grocery store while your toddler loses their absolute mind because you opened their snack the wrong way? Yeah. That moment. That silent, mutual understanding of pure suffering. 

Toddler tantrums are a test. A test you did not sign up for but are somehow always failing anyway. 

But. There are ways to survive. Are they foolproof? Absolutely not. But hey, sometimes “less terrible” is the goal. 

1. Keep It Together (Or at Least Fake It) 

Your kid is screaming. You are sweating. People are staring. 

And all you can think is: I have lost control of my entire life. 

Been there. Many times. The trick? Don’t escalate. 

Jack once threw himself onto the pavement outside Target because his sock felt “weird.” Just flattened himself out like a crime scene outline. 

Did I want to hiss through my teeth and drag him up by his armpits? Yes. Did I? No. Instead, I squatted down and sighed. 

“Ugh, sock problems are THE WORST. Want me to fix it or you wanna try?” 

Jack sniffled. Considered. Accepted my help. 

Was it magic? No. But it saved me from becoming That Mom Everyone Is Judging. 

(Or maybe they were still judging. I don’t know. I stopped making eye contact years ago.) 

2. Don’t Reward the Breakdown, But Don’t Ignore It Either 

Toddlers are rage-filled chaos goblins, but they still want to be understood. 

Lily once sobbed for 15 straight minutes because I cut her sandwich into squares instead of triangles. Absolute devastation. 

Old me: “Lily, it TASTES THE SAME.” 

New me? 

“Ugh, you really wanted triangles, huh? That’s super frustrating.” 

She sniffled. Nodded. Stopped screaming. 

Did I make her another sandwich? Absolutely not. But acknowledging her feelings stopped the meltdown before it hit DEFCON 1. 

3. Set Boundaries (And Then Actually Stick to Them, Even When It’s Awful) 

Toddlers are tiny scientists testing one single hypothesis: 

“If I scream loud enough, will I get what I want?” 

If the answer is yes, even once, congratulations! You’ve just unlocked 37 more tantrums on this exact topic. 

Jack once demanded ice cream for breakfast. I said no. He collapsed in agony. 

Did I give in? No. 

Did it ruin my morning? Yes. 

But guess what? He stopped trying that move after two days. 

Hold the line. Even when they act like you’ve personally destroyed their entire existence. 

4. Distract. Lie. Trick. Do What You Must. 

Sometimes, the best way to stop a tantrum is to make them forget they were having one. 

Max, my youngest, once lost his damn mind because he couldn’t bring his rain boots to bed. (Why? No one knows.) 

We were at minute 10 of pure screaming when I suddenly gasped— 

“MAX. DID YOU SEE THAT HUGE TRUCK OUTSIDE?!” 

Silence. 

He ran to the window. Tantrum? Gone. 

Toddlers have the attention span of a goldfish. Use it. 

(And yes, I hid the boots after bedtime.) 

5. Teach Emotional Regulation (Even Though It Feels Like Teaching a Raccoon to Meditate) 

Nobody magically learns how to manage frustration. We have to teach them. 

Lily rage-quit board games for an entire year. Pieces flying. Full meltdowns. 

So, we started practicing deep breaths before playing. “Smell the flower, blow out the candle.” Every time she got mad, we tried it. 

Now? She still hates losing, but instead of flipping the board, she just huffs dramatically. Progress. 

6. Pick Your Battles (Unless You Enjoy Chaos, In Which Case, Go Off I Guess) 

Not every meltdown is worth fighting. 

  • Lily wanted to wear a princess dress to the grocery store? Fine. 
  • Jack insisted his socks had to be inside out? Whatever. 
  • Max refused to leave the house without his stuffed dinosaur? Live your dreams, buddy. 

If it’s not dangerous and won’t matter in an hour, a day, or a week? Let. It. Go. 

(But no, Max, you still cannot bring rain boots to bed.) 

7. Reconnect When the Storm Passes 

Once the tantrum is over, your kid is just as wrecked as you are. 

Jack once had a total meltdown at the park when it was time to leave. After what felt like an eternity, he finally stopped crying. 

Instead of moving on, I hugged him and said: 

“That was really hard, huh? But I love you—even when you’re mad.” 

He melted into me. Because toddlers don’t want to be “bad.” They just don’t know how to handle big feelings yet. 

Final Thought (Or… No Thought, Because Parenting is Just One Long, Exhausting Blur) 

There’s no magic trick. No “one weird tip” that makes tantrums disappear. 

They’re part of raising tiny humans. 

You’ll never eliminate them. But you can make them less terrible. 

And one day? Your toddler will be a teenager. 

Instead of tantrums over the wrong sippy cup, it’ll be curfews, car keys, and heartbreak. 

So, I remind myself: one day, I might actually miss this. 

(Probably not. But hey, it’s nice to pretend.