Toddlers are tiny. Their emotions are not.
When they don’t know what to do with those huge, uncomfortable feelings, they often explode outwards. Hitting, kicking, biting, grabbing. It’s all communication, it’s all regulation and it’s all completely typical.
Think of it this way: most of us have snapped before. Had a bit of road rage. Slammed a cupboard when something doesn’t go our way. We’re full-grown adults with fully developed brains, and still we lose it sometimes.
Toddlers don’t have that fully developed prefrontal cortex. They don’t have impulse control. They’re not trying to be rude. They’re trying to survive a moment that feels overwhelming in their body. And when it happens ten times in one morning? Of course they’re going to lash out. They’re overloaded.
So what do they need?
They need our help.
It’s easy to be present and loving when our kids are sweet and cooperative. But what they really need is our calm when they lose theirs. When your toddler lashes out, imagine they’re shouting: “Please help me!” Because that’s essentially what they’re doing.
Behaviour is communication. And even if they’re laughing, even if they don’t look remorseful, it doesn’t feel good inside. Most children know it’s wrong. But their impulse wins.
These are our superhero parent moments. And yes, they are hard.
Many of us weren’t parented this way. Most of us are wired to think: "This behaviour needs to stop right now. I need to get firm. I need them to know this is serious." We feel triggered. Embarrassed. Afraid it will happen again. So we raise our voice. We get angry. We lecture. We might even feel tempted to shame, punish, or scare them into never doing it again.
But that response does something to the nervous system. When a child is dysregulated and then met with more fear, more intensity, more threat? Their system shuts down. They go into fight, flight, or freeze. You might see obedience - but it isn’t learning. It’s survival.
We don’t want children to be feared into listening. We want them to trust us to help them manage big emotions.
So what should we do instead?
1. Step in immediately and gently.
Prevent more harm. Calmly but firmly hold or block their hands. "I’m going to stop your hands."
2. Use simple, first-person scripts.
Instead of naming their feelings for them, model what they could say:
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"I’m frustrated."
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"I didn’t like that."
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"I wanted a turn."
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"I need space."
This puts language into their system they can access later. You’re teaching by showing.
3. Set the boundary calmly and clearly.
"I won’t let you hit. I’m here to help."
4. Offer a safe pause, not a punishment.
Stay close. No lectures. No shame. If they need space, sit with them quietly. If they need a hug, offer one. If they need to be moved away from the play, do that. Whatever it is - they need more support right now than they had a second ago.
5. Reflect later, not in the heat of the moment.
"That was a tricky moment. You were so upset, and you didn’t have the words. Next time, I can help you find them."
Remember: your child is not a hitter. They're not naughty. They don't want to do the wrong thing and they're always doing their best. They’re a human in development who needs more support in those situations at the moment.
Most hitting happens when toddlers are tired, overwhelmed, overstimulated, hungry, or struggling with transitions. The best strategy is always prevention. Step in before it escalates. Be near when play gets tense. Offer words before hands go flying.
And finally, a solemn reminder: Contrary to what an older generation might suggest, it is never okay to hit or bite a child to "show them what it feels like."
That’s not teaching. That’s abuse. Most children already know it hurts. They just didn’t have the tools to do something else in that moment. Our job isn’t to punish the impulse. It’s to guide them toward a different choice next time.
If in doubt, don’t say much. Step in calmly and be the adult who helps them come back to centre.
You’ve got this.