Well, hello again! It’s been a minute—or more like several chaotic, sleep-deprived, back-to-back minutes. I’ve been meaning to write for weeks, but life had other plans. Since I last posted, we’ve cycled through doctor visits for both me and the newborn, got hit by two (yes, TWO) rounds of household-wide illness, survived a hospital stay with my 2-month-old, hosted family, and have been prepping for an international trip. In other words: self-care > writing, and even that’s a generous description.
BUT—I’m here now, and I’m so ready to dive back in. Writing has always been such a release for me, and I hope that in sharing my chaos, you find some comfort, a laugh, or just the reminder that you’re not alone in the parenting trenches.
Today’s topic? The “threenager.”
Specifically: the tantrums. The epic, soul-testing, unpredictable meltdowns that come with living with a very opinionated, very tiny human.
Now, I want to start by saying that although my daughter has a speech delay (more on that in another post!), we’ve always been able to communicate. We taught her sign language early on, so she’s been able to express herself well—even before her words caught up. I mention this because one of the most common reasons given for tantrums is “communication frustration.” But y’all… I understand her. And she understands me. So what’s the excuse for screaming because the banana is peeled the wrong way?
Seriously—how do you manage this? Is there a “right” way? Is there even a way?
We try to approach parenting with a child-centered mindset. What works for my kid may not work for yours—and that’s perfectly okay. But lately, it feels like we’re running through the entire parenting toolkit. Gentle reminders? Ignored. Redirection? Rejected. Consequences? Ohhh, now that’s when the real show begins.
We’ve started taking away toys after a lot of warnings and redirection attempts. Predictably, that only escalated things. Picture: Category 5 emotional hurricane. We’ve since implemented a drawn-and-posted daily schedule, behavior expectations chart, a star jar—basically, a toddler version of a motivational vision board. So far… she’s unimpressed.
According to her doctors, these tantrums are all age-appropriate, behaviorally normal, yada yada yada. But let’s be honest—”normal” doesn’t make them easier to navigate when your child is thrashing on the floor because her socks feel “too socky.”
So, to all the parents out there scratching their heads, whispering “WTF” into their coffee mugs—you’re not alone. This is hard. It’s messy. And it’s okay to not have it figured out.
If you’re in the mood to commiserate, I’d love to hear your wildest toddler tantrum stories. Misery may not love company, but it sure loves solidarity.