Confession: My Toddler Had a Meltdown—and I Just Sat There

Lately, every weekday at 3:00 p.m. like the bells of St. Mary's, my sweet, happy-go-lucky four-year-old would morph from playground superhero to screeching velociraptor the moment his carseat buckle clicked. We’re talking red-faced howl, thrashing feet, the whole “YOU'RE NOT NICE!” opera while I gripped the steering wheel wondering if those around were dialing Child Protective Services.

I tried every trick in my Arsenal:

• Snack bribe? — Flung that apple like an ace pitcher..

• Disney sing-along? — Volume war.

• “Use your words, sweetie.” — Spoiler: he did, all of them four decibels above legal limit.

• "I can't understand you, D." - Even though it didn't seem possible, he got louder.

  
  

Then the obvious smacked me🤦‍♀️:

He’d just crushed a full school day plus an hour of playground parkour. The kid was fried. His nervous system lighting up and pinging like a pinball machine; his whole being was waving a white flag.

And the only way out of this tunnel was through it. My job wasn’t to coach feelings in that moment—it was simply to give him space to shut down safely.

So I tried something revolutionary: nothing.

I shot off the engine (I hadn't left the parking lot yet), took my own deep breath, put in my earbuds (he is very loud), and let the storm roar. No pep talks, no negotiating, no “Use your calm voice, buddy.” A little more than a minute later, it was done. The kicking stopped, his words were calm, and then… silence. I peeked in the mirror to find my my sweet boy asleep, with a peaceful look on his face. (Is there anything more angelic-looking than a sleeping child?)

Here’s what that micro-meltdown taught me:

1. Tired brains tantrum. If oxygen and glucose are low, logic’s on holiday.

2. Calm is contagious. My steady breathing told his body, “You’re safe. Power down.”

3. Not every explosion needs a lesson. Regulation first; reflection later—maybe after coffee.

   
   

If your daily commute feels like chauffeuring a ticking time bomb, experiment with the Do Nothing Strategy:

• Pull over (safety first).

• Plant your feet, inhale 5-hold 5-exhale 5.

• Zip it. Let them ride their wave.

• When the sea is calm, whisper, “You were tired. I get tired too.”

Will this always work? Probably not. But, it's worth a try. Most days it'll be all it takes to turn chaos into car-seat Zzzs.

If you want more “you-do-you” fixes for meltdowns, bedtime standoffs, picky-eating protests, and power-struggle showdown take peek inside From Battles to Balance™, the bite-size course that helps moms trade daily battles for balanced wins on their terms.

Because sometimes the quickest detour to peace is to do nothing.

If today’s post hit home, tap the heart and leave one word that describes your post-school pick-up vibe. Let’s see how many of us ride the same roller coaster.

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