My sensitive son, Max, went through a phase of intense tantrums during his toddler and preschool years. If you’ve experienced this, you know how it can escalate. A child who’s overtired, hungry, or just plain frustrated can erupt over the smallest things—like the way their toast is cut or being buckled into their car seat.
Navigating a tantrum from a little one, especially in public or when you’re already stressed, is no small feat. Even if you remind yourself that it’s “normal,” it doesn’t exactly provide comfort when you’re in the thick of it. Those of us parenting particularly intense children often wonder if ours is the loudest, most out-of-control kid on the planet, and we question our own parenting choices. (Spoiler alert: It’s usually normal behavior, I assure you.)
As Max turned four, his tantrums began to lessen. They still happened occasionally, but the frequency was down. I took solace in the advice everyone offered: “It will get better.” I thought I had moved past the worst of it, and I celebrated the end of those brutal toddler years.
Then came second grade. For reasons I couldn’t quite grasp, being eight years old proved to be a challenging time for Max. He expressed dislike for school for the first time and had a fallout with a classmate who became his nemesis (though I suspected Max was quite sensitive to anything this kid said). Then, out of nowhere, the afterschool tantrums returned.
Yes, my “big kid,” who I thought had left tantrums behind, was having meltdowns again. I had no idea how intense they would be. Watching an older child lose control is jarring. I remember rushing to close the windows, hoping our neighbors wouldn’t hear the wails that echoed through our home.
What triggered these outbursts? At first, I was baffled. For weeks, several days would pass when something minor would set him off—a missed afterschool bagel or a refusal from his dad to help with a video game level. These were issues that previously wouldn’t have fazed him.
In those moments, he would regress, collapsing onto the floor, kicking and screaming. Initially, I was at a loss, convinced I had done something wrong as a mother or that there was something fundamentally wrong with him. But he was thriving in school, developing normally, and had just received a clean bill of health from the doctor.
Disciplinary measures weren’t effective. Telling him to stop or threatening to take away privileges only escalated the situation. Since he wasn’t harming anyone and was simply sobbing, I felt discipline wasn’t the answer; I didn’t want to invalidate his feelings.
After a few instances where I lost my cool, realizing that wasn’t helpful, I knew I needed a new approach. Traditional time-outs were out of the question—have you ever tried to put an eight-year-old in time-out? Instead, I told him he needed to go to his room, and that I would join him. Resistance followed, and I eventually had to call my husband to help carry him to his room, which was less than graceful.
Once we were in the smaller, more secure space of his room, I decided to trust my instincts. I stopped overanalyzing the situation. I thought, “What would I want if I were upset and couldn’t articulate why?”
That’s when it clicked. I wrapped him in his favorite blanket and said, “It’s completely okay to be upset, and you don’t have to explain why. I’m here when you’re ready to talk.” Then I jokingly added, “Just turn the volume down a bit, okay?”
At first, he kept screaming, but soon the noise turned into soft sobs, and his body began to relax. Sitting beside him, he eventually shifted closer and rested his head on my lap.
“Sometimes I just have a really bad day and need to cry,” I shared. He nodded in agreement and began opening up about recess, where he hadn’t been chosen for the kickball team, and how a misunderstanding with a teacher had left him feeling wrong. It was all just the everyday stressors of second grade, viewed through the lens of a particularly sensitive child.
This phase of heightened emotions was clearly linked to being eight years old. Whether it was a developmental stage, external stressors in our home, or just a tough year, I couldn’t pinpoint.
I don’t recall when those tantrums started to fade, but they did, just as all those challenging phases do. The hardest part was the judgment I placed on the situation. I never knew that older kids could have tantrums, but they absolutely can. When I confided in friends with children the same age, I received understanding nods. Even my friends with teenagers expressed solidarity.
The issue is that we often keep these experiences to ourselves, missing out on the support we need. I’m here to tell you that big kids can throw epic tantrums too. It’s completely normal. It often boils down to the fact that older kids experience intense feelings but lack the tools to process them like adults. And let’s be honest, even we adults sometimes struggle with that.
If your older child is having significant issues functioning or if the tantrums are uncontrollable or harmful, it’s wise to consult a pediatrician or a child psychologist. However, I’ve found that simply “holding space” for your child’s feelings and reassuring them that you’re available when they’re ready to talk is often all that’s needed. And of course, if they’re hungry, feed them!
Above all, remember that this phase will eventually pass, just like those toddler tantrums did. And brace yourself—I’ve heard that big kid tantrums pale in comparison to what’s coming in the teenage years.
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Summary:
Navigating tantrums from older children can be just as challenging as dealing with them in toddlers. This article shares the experience of a mother, Jenna, whose sensitive son Max faced unexpected emotional outbursts in second grade. Through understanding and empathy, she learned to support him during these difficult moments, emphasizing that it’s normal for big kids to have intense feelings and sometimes struggle to express them.
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