Ever notice how your child’s anger seems to come out of nowhere? Last week, my five-year-old completely melted down over a broken crayon.
Not just upset – full-on rage, throwing things, screaming that I was “the worst mama ever.” My instinct was to send her to her room until she could “be nice,” but instead, I sat on the floor and said, “Tell me more.” What came next surprised me. It wasn’t about the crayon at all.
When kids are angry, they’re trying to tell us something important, but their developing brains can’t always find the right words. After years of navigating tantrums with my two little ones and learning to really listen during those explosive moments, I’ve discovered what they’re desperately trying to communicate when emotions run high.
1. “I’m not giving you a hard time, I’m having a hard time”
That broken crayon? Turns out my daughter had been trying to draw a picture for her friend who was moving away. The crayon breaking felt like everything breaking. When kids lash out, they’re usually drowning in feelings too big for their bodies.
Think about the last time you felt overwhelmed. Maybe you snapped at your partner or slammed a door. Now imagine feeling that same intensity without the vocabulary or emotional regulation skills to handle it. That’s where our kids live during angry moments.
Instead of focusing on the behavior, try seeing the struggle underneath. When I shifted from “Why are you acting this way?” to “Something must be really hard right now,” everything changed. My daughter’s shoulders dropped, tears came, and the real story emerged.
2. “Your reaction scares me more than my own feelings”
Here’s something that stopped me in my tracks: kids often mirror our energy. When we meet their anger with our own frustration or panic, we accidentally confirm their worst fear—that their feelings are too much, too bad, too scary.
I learned this the hard way when my two-year-old was in peak tantrum mode at the farmers market. My embarrassment and stress only amplified his meltdown. But when I took a breath and stayed calm (even though I wanted to disappear), he started to settle. Our nervous systems are connected, especially with little ones.
Does this mean you have to be perfectly zen? Absolutely not. But showing them that you can handle their big feelings teaches them that those feelings are survivable.
3. “I need you to see past my words”
“I hate you!” “You’re mean!” “I wish I had a different family!” These words sting, don’t they? But here’s what kids are really saying: “I’m hurt,” “I feel powerless,” “I don’t know how to handle this feeling.”
Kids don’t have the sophisticated language to say, “I’m feeling disconnected from you and that makes me feel unsafe.” Instead, they use the strongest words they know to communicate the intensity of their experience. When we take these words at face value, we miss the real message.
Try translating their angry words. “You never let me do anything fun!” might mean “I’m frustrated that I can’t control this situation.” This doesn’t mean accepting disrespect, but understanding the message beneath helps us respond to what they really need.
This short video, Your Child’s Anger Is Not What You Think, helps explain why kids’ angry outbursts are less about defiance and more about overwhelmed emotions they don’t yet know how to manage.
4. “I can’t learn when I’m this upset”
How many times have we tried to teach a lesson in the heat of the moment? “This is why we don’t throw toys!” we say to a child whose brain is flooded with stress hormones. But when kids are angry, the learning part of their brain goes offline. They literally can’t process our wise words or consequences.
What kids desperately want us to know is that they need to calm down first. Connection before correction, always. Save the teaching for later when everyone’s nervous system has settled. That’s when real learning happens.
I keep this phrase handy: “We’ll figure this out together when we’re both feeling calmer.” It acknowledges the problem without trying to solve it in the storm.
5. “I need to know you’re not going anywhere”
When kids are at their worst, they’re asking a fundamental question: “Will you still love me like this?” Sending them away to their rooms or withdrawing affection confirms their fear that they’re too much.
This doesn’t mean you have to cuddle an angry child who’s hitting you. But staying nearby, staying regulated, and staying open sends a powerful message: “Your anger doesn’t scare me away. You’re safe with me even when you’re struggling.”
Sometimes I simply sit near my kids during their storms, not talking, just being present. “I’m here when you’re ready,” I might say. It’s amazing how often they eventually crawl into my lap, anger melted into tears.
6. “Something in my world feels out of control”
Kids have so little control over their lives. They don’t choose their schedule, their food, their clothes (mostly), or their activities. When anger erupts over seemingly small things – which sock goes on first, how the sandwich is cut—they’re often trying to reclaim some power.
Look for patterns. Does anger spike during transitions? After school? Before bed? These are often times when kids feel most powerless. Offering small choices throughout the day can prevent bigger explosions. “Would you like to walk to the car or hop like a bunny?” seems silly, but it gives them agency.
7. “I’m watching how you handle your own anger”
This one’s tough to swallow, but kids are always learning from us. How do we handle frustration? Do we yell when we’re stressed? Slam cabinets when we’re upset? Our kids are taking notes.
When I catch myself losing it (because I do), I try to model repair. “I’m feeling really frustrated right now. I need to take some deep breaths.” Or afterward: “I’m sorry I yelled. I was feeling overwhelmed, but that’s not okay. Let’s try again.”
Showing them that everyone gets angry – and that there are healthy ways to handle it – gives them permission to be human while learning better strategies.
Moving forward together
Yesterday, my son had a meltdown about putting on shoes. Instead of rushing or fixing, I sat down and said my default phrase: “Tell me more.” Turns out, his sock had a “yucky feeling.” Such a small thing, but to him, it was everything in that moment.
Our kids aren’t trying to make our lives harder when they’re angry. They’re trying to communicate something important with limited tools. When we can see past the behavior to the need, past the words to the message, past the anger to the fear or hurt or frustration underneath, we give our kids what they’re really asking for: understanding, connection, and the safety to feel all their feelings.
The broken crayon incident? After we talked it through, my daughter and I made a card for her friend together, using markers this time. The anger wasn’t really about art supplies – it never is. It was about loss and sadness and not knowing how to say goodbye. Once we figured that out together, the anger didn’t seem so scary anymore. For either of us.
