Does your toddler love to throw a tantrum for the most trivial reasons? You’re not alone.
My little boy Max, who is 3 this coming August, is well and truly a ‘twonager‘ at the moment, and apparently it doesn’t get any easier when he becomes a ‘threenager’. His new favourite party trick is to sing the song of his people (aka the Pterodactyl Screech, I’m sure you’ll all know what THIS sounds like, throw himself onto his knees as if the entire situation is playing out in some dramatic music video for a tragic love ballad, and cry until the perceived offence has passed.
Some of the triggers for these moments of melodrama are pretty random and not THAT big of a deal… to us. To a growing toddler brain, little glitches become amplified tenfold and blown out of all epic proportions, am I right?! Here are just a few of the random reasons why Max has pitched a fit.
I hope that this helps other parents to feel reassured, and normalise tantrums – I know that some of my parent friends feel like they’re doing something wrong if their child kicks off on a daily basis, but it is NORMAL TODDLER BEHAVIOUR, regardless of what old bats in the shops think with their dirty looks and pointed tutting. Shut up, Margaret, jeez.
We ran out of 2 pence pieces for the arcade machines on Holiday.
In May, we tripped off down to Paignton for a week, for our ‘Familymoon’ as me & daddy got married in January. Max has been on holiday with us before, to Skegness, but he was smaller and not yet in a bed so it was pretty rough. On the whole, his behaviour in Devon was lovely and he had the best time…
Apart from when we encountered the ARCADES! The place of dreams for a small child, it’s undeniable. Max took a huge liking to the 2 pence machines, so of course mummy and daddy dutifully emptied their purses and pockets, changed other coins at the machine, and scraped together a big pile for him to put into the slots. He was blissfully happy, until the 2 pence pot ran dry.
Que, pterodactyl screeching.
Daddy wouldn’t let him out of his pram on a catamaran waiting for a ferry.
Max was pretty offended to learn that he COULDN’T get out of the safety of his pram to wander around an open, wobbly catamaran whilst we waited for the ferry back from Dartmouth. Clearly he loves the water! How rude of daddy to not let Max plunge into the river Dart, eh?
Que, MORE pterodactyl screeching, until we got on the ferry, which Max loved… and threw another tantrum about getting off on the other side. Oh, the melodrama…
Daddy had to go to work and wouldn’t take him.
Ok, this one is pretty sad and it actually upsets me every time.
Max hates it when daddy has to go to work, the fact that he can’t join him in his pyjamas and welly boots is clearly devastating, despite knowing he’s off out for the day himself once he’s dressed! We explain every single time, appease his tantrum, and then it’s as if it all never happened… until half 8 the next morning, when it starts all over again, as if THIS TIME daddy will be able to take him to work!
Sigh. This is why I love the weekends.
Daddy told him off for drawing on the walls.
“MUMMY! Mama! Ma! I have to tell you, daddy is being terribly mean to me, he’s the rudest daddy in the history of daddies. He’s stifling my creativity, good and proper, mum. You want me to be a world famous artist, right? The next Jackson Pollock? A bloody PIONEER of scribble art?! Tell daddy to STOP taking my crayons off me. I’m so sad, mummy. My wall scribbles are beautiful. He should be grateful for my contribution to the decorating.”
This is what I think Max is trying to say when he comes to me screeching and crying after being caught daubing our FRESHLY PAINTED walls with chalk and wax crayon. We try to avoid unsupervised art time, but if we need 10 seconds for a glass of water, the sneaky child takes his opportunity and runs from the table to the nearest clear patch of wall to graffiti. I swear he thinks he’s the next Banksy.
Of course, when daddy is being bad cop, mummy gets the ‘revenge cuddles’ to make daddy jealous, and vice versa.
I wouldn’t let him continue stuffing sandwiches into the vacuum nozzle.
After spending over £250 on a top notch Shark Vacuum (my OTHER baby, I love it so much), Max seems to enjoy disconnecting the main unit from the wheel section, removing the tube from the main unit, and then stuffing his meals, socks and toys into each and every opening & nozzle he can find. Of course, this is not good for the health of our poor vacuum, so we put a short sharp stopper on this bizarre experimental act. We don’t know what he hopes to achieve from it; all we can think is that he’s conducting some sort of science experiment which we can’t comprehend?
Clearly, our stifling of his scientific urges is a most grievous offence. Please excuse our untidy conservatory; it was tidy, until tantruming child indulged in a spot of ‘revenge trashing’.
Watch this space for even more trivial toddler tantrums – I’ll continue to chronicle them all for posterity.
I hope that this has somewhat helped (and mildly entertained) our mummy and daddy followers. Tell us the random reasons why your toddler tantrums in the comments below!
Love from Katie. Xx