The 5 Levels Of A Toddler Meltdown

Emotionally speaking, toddlers make 13-year-old girls seem like rock-solid titans of reason.  My own 3-year-old has been “set off” by something as seemingly not-big-deal-ish as finishing her sucker, her shoes being too “match-y” and – my personal favorite – her blanket lovey not being smelly enough.

I am now knee-deep in my 3rd toddler, with a 4th following quickly behind at one year old.  But this toddler is different.  This one’s a girl.  Sweet and sassy, she has taken my experience with meltdowns to an extraordinary new level.  Mostly in the decibels department.

Over the years, I have been mentally collecting and analyzing meltdown data…causes, duration, frequency, intensity.  But toddlers are full of surprises.  The second you think you understand them, a meltdown will pop up out of nowhere without any of the usual warning signs.

But there is one aspect of a toddler’s meltdowns that has become clear as crystal.  After years of exposure and research, I feel confident in presenting The Five Highly Scientific Levels Of A Meltdown.  This is legit, people.  A good understanding of these five levels can give you the confidence you need to survive even a Category 5 meltdown, in the library.

Level 1:  Pouty Lip
This level is commonly mistaken as “cute.”  Usually a pouty lip is the result of a toddler being told “no.”  A request is refused, the lip pops out.  But as adorable as that bottom lip is, beware.  There is about a 70% chance that the lip is actually a feeder band before the real storm hits.  The good news is that at this level, future catastrophic levels can typically be avoided by a simple distraction:  “Look, sweetie!  A Frozen dress just like yours!”  or “Let’s see what neat stuff is inside mommy’s purse!”  You get the idea.  Distractions.

Level 2:  Limp Legs
When distractions don’t work and the realization that her request has been denied hits home, a toddler progresses into the limp legs category.  This is a tricky one because, once those legs go limp there’s not much you can do.  If you are trying to lift her up while holding her hand, there’s a good chance that her arms are going to pop out of socket.  Which is never good.  But if you let the limp legs win, she collapses as-is where you stand.  That could be on a sizzling-hot parking lot, on a gas station bathroom floor, or – worst case – somewhere public surrounded by people who hate kids and just don’t understand.  There is no way to determine how long the limp legs might last, so your best bet is to drop everything else you’re holding and carry her home.

Level 3:  Shrieking
Shrieking might not be strong enough of a word.  This is not the everyday shrieking that you experience from your bundle of joy, like when she is screaming your name from the countertop because she can’t get down or when she is yelling in frustration because she can’t get her right foot into her left shoe.  No, this shrieking signals the transition of a Level 2 meltdown into a strong and powerful Level 3.  At this point, if you are out in public, there is no hiding the tantrum.  People from miles around will be affected by the wailing, the screaming, the incredible ranges of highs and lows, and the utter strength of your tiny human’s larynx.  Unfortunately, it is at this level that you are most vulnerable to being misjudged as an abusive parent.  There is a slight possibility that strangers might mistake her Level 3 meltdown shriek as a neglected or abused child shriek and call CPS on you.

Level 4:  Violence
Most parents struggle with the reality of this level.  Yes, it is very possible that even the most loving and angelic of children can become a regular on Level 4.  But no matter how often your child makes it all the way to the 4th level, it’s never easy to watch them stomp their little feet or shake their little head or knock over the kitchen table or slap you across your face.  It’s also at this level that parents enter into a new level of humiliation.  Nothing says “I have no control over my children” quite like my child running down the church nursery hallway with a clump of my hair in one of her hands and the top two buttons from my dress in the other.  At this point I hope that you have good friends at a good church who don’t judge you.

Level 5:  Atomic Toddler
At this unfortunate level, you might have strangers dialing 911 because they have mistaken your child’s tantrum for a full-blown grand mal seizure.  Category 5 meltdowns can best be described by using the Three L’s – loud, lengthy, and laborious.  There are no boundaries at this extraordinary level…anything can happen.  There might be fire, claw marks, wind damage, possibly even radiation.  If you have a toddler prone to Category 5 meltdowns, you might want to keep in a convenient location a safety kit that includes a helmet, bolt cutters, one of those heavy vests that you wear when you get x-rays, and, obviously, a tranquilizer.  The important thing to remember at this stage is that your perky, cuddly, piggy-tailed little girl will return momentarily.  She just has to get the F5 tornado out first.

The conclusion of a Level 5 tantrum is like the passing of a mighty hurricane…as soon as the storm moves on, the skies are suddenly and mysteriously beautiful.  Once a toddler gets that final burst of atomic anger out, she morphs into the most angelic creature you’ve ever laid eyes on.  With the final glistening tear sparkling like a diamond on her satin cheek, it’s a good time to swoop her up into your arms and mention one of those to-die-for ChickFilA chocolate chip cookies.  A day that involves a Level 5 meltdown will leave you both exhausted and in need of some ChickFilA comfort. So kiss and make up, and for the love, bring your meltdown safety kit to ChickFilA with you…just in case. If that’s not enough, then you might want to consume some CBD Capsules to calm yourself down.

Related posts that you might enjoy:

• At The Worst Possible Moment, Take A Picture
• If You Give A Toddler A Cookie
• It’s Only A Mess

Lauren Souers

Hi, my name is Lauren. I am the wife of one fine man and the momma of four (huge) young children – three boys and one princess! I love all of them. I mostly clean up messes and feed people all day, and it’s really fun to write about it. Jesus is the rock of my family – we love and serve a mighty King! I hope you leave here full of hope that “tired” can be good.