How to handle child tantrums effectively

From Boardrooms to Breakfast Tables: When Every Day Felt Like a Meltdown

As a CXO, I was no stranger to pressure. High-stakes meetings, last-minute budget rewrites, and the occasional executive blow-up were just part of the job. My husband, meanwhile, was steering a startup through its turbulent early stages. So yes—tantrums were already baked into our daily lives. But nothing prepared me for the emotional whirlwind that came from our son during his school holidays.

Every. Single. Day. A tantrum.

Sometimes about screen time, sometimes over breakfast. Some days, I’d be on a Zoom call with board members while he screamed in the hallway. Others, I’d step out of a meeting only to find my phone filled with missed calls from home. I was managing crisis on all fronts—with no roadmap, and no pause button.

When Logic Breaks Down and You Can’t “Optimize” Your Kid

I approached tantrums the way I handled budget overruns—analyze, troubleshoot, streamline. But my son didn’t follow spreadsheets. What he needed wasn’t strategy; it was emotional fluency. I realized I had been trying to control something I hadn’t taken time to understand.

He was frustrated, overstimulated, bored, and unsure how to ask for help. I was exhausted, confused, and unsure how to offer it. I was the grown-up—but I wasn’t in control. I had to find a new playbook, one that honored both our needs.

What Finally Worked (and Still Works)

Through trial, error, and plenty of tears—his and mine—I found a rhythm. Here's what started to turn things around:

• Staying composed. I stopped matching his intensity and started modeling calm. He followed my tone.
• Finding the pattern. His tantrums always hit right after breakfast and before lunch. Hunger was half the battle.
• Holding the line. I stopped caving in “just this once.” That consistency paid off quickly.
• Giving him choices. Simple options—blue shirt or red? Brush now or after story?—defused so many meltdowns.
• Naming feelings. When I helped him say “I’m mad” or “I’m tired,” he didn’t have to scream it.
• Shifting the focus. A new game, a different room, a funny voice—distraction became my daily superpower.
• Praising progress. I started noticing his good moments. So did he.

And when it all felt like too much, I reminded myself that some days, surviving is success.

If You’re in It Too

Maybe you're also juggling a boardroom and a bedtime. Or trying to parent while building something that demands every ounce of you. You’re not alone—and you don’t have to do it on instinct alone. These tools helped me breathe again and I hope they help you too.