Got tantrums?

We do. As Gutsy screeched his everlovin' lungs out on the kitchen floor yesterday afternoon over my insistence that he say "please" when demanding asking for something, I tried to think about how many times I've witnessed a tantrum in my thirteen years of parenting.

The answer: hundreds.

I have seen hundreds of them from my gremlins alone. I've encountered hundreds more from other children at playgroup, the store, the park, and anywhere else kids have lungs. I would say that makes me an expert. And what do experts do? Well, other than feel incredibly self-important in our superior knowledge, we try to teach the masses what we know. So, if I'm going to fancy myself a leading authority on the study of childhood explosions, I should probably be teaching you poor peons all about them.

Who can benefit this lesson? New parents, for one. You have absolutely no idea what you just got yourself into, do you? Suckers.

Then there are the parents who's children never throw tantrums, either because they're too darn perfect or always stoned on tranquilizers. You might want to know what other people deal with. And whether it's your perfect genetics or complete lack of conscience that makes your kids so well behaved, I hate you. So there.

Finally, every prospective parent should study this primer. There's still time to change your mind, folks.


Now, my research has shown that there are 5 very distinct levels leading up to a full-scale tantrum. To make these easier to spot, I've taken the time to draw some handy dandy illustrations. Yes, The Maven is not only an incredible writer, but an incredible artist, too.  My talent has no boundaries.




We can't say "normal" anymore, can we? A friend and I were talking about that the other day. It's just not a PC enough term in this diagnosis-happy world. Therefore, this is a typical child in a typical mood. I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible, but let's be honest: it looks like a little dude. And, while I tried to use a neutral skin tone, there really isn't one, is there? We're fantastically multicultural in this day and age. I made this one look like my kids, I guess. Let's call him something like Little Billy. That's pretty generic.




Oops. You said or did something un-okay. You know how a rattlesnake shakes its tail before striking? This is what your child is doing, but in the form of an unimpressed look. It's a lot like the look you give the jerk who just stole your parking spot. This is a warning to cease and desist any and all activity that is not pleasing, lest Little Billy get all up in your grill. There is still time to turn this thing around if you just let him do whatever he wants and bow to his every whim and desire.

Oh, wait. You can't, because that's shitty parenting. Sorry about your luck.



We've come to this. The point of no return. You didn't back down, did you? You crossed that line and you're about to pay for it, big time. Look at the shock in Little Billy's eyes. He's so surprised and put off by you. How could you put your foot down like that? Why couldn't you have given him that fifth cookie before dinner? What's so wrong with throwing butter knives at his sister's head? And doesn't the couch look better with knitting needles sticking out of it?  Why, you're worst parent, ever! He's disgusted with you! He can't believe you just did that! And now you have it coming.


This is where things are about to get ugly. You may want to move any sensitive viewers out of the room.

Little Billy is pissed. He's out for blood. At this point, you might as well find a door frame or table to brace yourself under, because the scream will be so strong it will shake the foundations of your very soul. If you pray, now is the time to do it.

This lifelike representation of a tantrum, stage 4, shows the subtle details often overlooked in its identification: budding horns, flaming hair, red eyes and excessive tooth growth are sometimes only seen if the explosion is recorded and played back in slow motion. But they're there. Oh yes, they're there.



Sometimes, hair loss occurs at this stage because all blood vessels in the scalp have rerouted to feed the needs of the devil horns.

This is a good time to grab those knitting needles out of the couch and start making something, because it's going to be a while. Tantrums can last a very long time. If the fit is happening in chillier months, maybe you could crochet a little hat for Billy's demonic tongue. Just don't stare too long into the hypno-eyes. You may find yourself giving into this monster, thus making it stronger next time.

Tantrums. They suck, I know. Thank you for your time.


Oh... Were you looking for advice to stop tantrums? I'm still trying to figure that out, too. What do you think I am? Some kind of expert?