Handling the Toddler Meltdown

For the most part, I feel like I am a parent in control of my children. I’ve seen those that are not. I have seen those that do so much better than I could ever hope for, too.

With some basic discipline, solid and clear rules and consistency, my husband and I usually can maintain order. We joke that we can’t have a third child because our defensive plan would have to adjust. For now, we can play man-to-man, but three kids would mean a breakdown into zone. To me, that means a little bit less ability to control the situation.

There is one card a child holds, though. I am hoping those that still hold it are too young to read this column, because I’d hate to ever admit it to them. Children can play this card at any time. Like a stealthy dealer, they can flash its magic and the hand is over.

This card? The meltdown. It’s well known for its ability to end any number of fun, family occasions. From dinner out at a restaurant, to a neighborhood barbecue, children need only play the card and, in a way, they get what they want.

Don’t get me wrong. We really don’t just bow to our children’s every whim. We stand strong, and enforce the rules. But, with the meltdown, our defenses are weak.

I have found no other option when the meltdown occurs other than to simply leave. You pick up the struggling, screaming, crying, fitful child, and you leave the scene of the crime. If you are lucky, it is in front of people you never have to see again. But, that is seldom the case.

I can happily report my son has only done this twice in his life. Sure, he’s disagreed with us. He’s been punished. He’s even argued and talked back. But only two times in his 5 short years can I say he’s used the full meltdown technique.

Once, when he was about 3, we tried to leave the Five Below store at the King of Prussia Mall. Since he couldn’t get what he wanted, an item which I sadly cannot even recall at the moment, he decided to fight us. But, it wasn’t your typical fight. It was a throw-yourself-down-on-the-ground, blood-curdling screaming, crying hysterical absolute fit. It was the meltdown.

At the time, I was lucky enough to have my husband along with us. He scooped my son up from the floor, wrapped his arms around him and carried him, for what seemed like miles, to the car. I walked about 20 feet in front of them, hoping no one would notice the freckled-faced screaming toddler back there looked like me.

I was mortified. My husband handled it well. I am glad we walked out. It ruined our night. We missed dinner reservations, and didn’t get our shopping done. But, it was the right thing to do.

Something about letting a 3-year-old determine our night’s plans however frustrated me. But, much like so much else we do as parents, it was the right thing to teach him the lesson. You can’t always get what you want.

This week, my son did it again. I have to say I was shocked to see him meltdown at age 5. But, when he wasn’t allowed to play a game he wanted, it was like two years ago all over again.

My husband did the same thing. We left a friend’s house, right in the middle of a play date, and he walked him home all the way. I again followed a good 20 feet behind, but this time because I had to gather up a 3-year-old daughter and all of our belongings. This time, I was confident it was the right thing to do.

The meltdown isn’t pretty. And, I am hoping we are soon out of the ages that it happens in most. But, until then, I know we are handling it the right way. They won’t win by melting down, and I hope they both learn that lesson quickly.

Thank God, in the meantime, my husband is still strong enough to carry both kids.