Ask Kate: What Can I Do When My 5-Year-Old’s Outbursts Are So Long and Loud?
Struggling with explosive outbursts from your child or grandchild? Discover how to support emotional regulation, develop co-regulation skills, and foster safety for children who struggle with intense emotions—learn practical strategies and access free visual tools inside.
This week’s Ask Kate comes from a grandmother raising her 5-year-old granddaughter. Like many caregivers, she’s doing her best, but feels overwhelmed by explosive outbursts and is desperate for guidance.
“She screams. She kicks. She refuses food. She has meltdowns in public and outbursts at home. We’ve tried timers, consequences, behavior charts, and clear routines… and still, it feels like nothing is working.”
Sound familiar?
You are not alone.
Whether you’re a parent, grandparent, teacher, or caregiver, when a child’s behavior feels “bigger than expected,” it can leave you exhausted, confused, and questioning everything.
Let’s walk through what’s happening—and what can help.
First: This Isn’t About You Doing Something Wrong
Behavior is communication.
When a young child screams, hits, melts down, or refuses, they’re not being “bad” or manipulative. They’re telling you:
“I don’t have the skills to handle what I’m feeling.”
And often, those overwhelming feelings are tied to:
Underlying anxiety or trauma
Sensory processing sensitivities
Difficulty with transitions
Feeling out of control
Emotional Regulation Begins With Co-Regulation
You may have heard that “kids need to learn to self-regulate.” But here’s the truth:
Children can’t self-regulate until they’ve been consistently co-regulated.
Co-regulation means the child borrows your calm to feel safe. When a child is in full meltdown mode, their nervous system shifts into a state of survival—fight, flight, or freeze. Their brain can’t access reasoning, memory, or language.
What they need most in that moment is a grounded, nonjudgmental adult who can stay calm for them, even if they can’t yet be calm themselves.
What co-regulation looks like:
“I’m right here. You’re safe.”
Sitting nearby with open body language
Matching their breathing with slow, steady breaths
Offering a hand, fidget, or blanket (if welcomed)
What it isn’t:
Explaining what they did wrong
Telling them to “calm down”
Punishing the behavior mid-meltdown
When Words Don’t Work
During dysregulation, the brain is typically unable to process language.
Continued talking—even if it’s calm and kind—can feel like more sensory input to an already overwhelmed system. It may increase distress rather than reduce it.
Instead, focus on presence over instruction.
Use fewer words, adopt a slower pace, and employ supportive body language.
After the Storm: The Power of Waiting
The return to regulation takes time.
Sometimes, a lot of time.
This is where many adults start to question themselves or the child—but this pause is a crucial part of the healing process.
💡 The child’s nervous system needs many, many matching experiences of safety before it can build new pathways for handling emotional overwhelm.
During this waiting period:
Prioritize safety: make sure no one is getting hurt
Offer a cushioned space for the child to release safely if needed
Let them know you’re staying, even if they’re not ready to connect
And afterward? Don’t expect an explanation.
Most children:
Can tell you what happened (“I hit the table”)
But cannot tell you why it happened
And may not remember it at all
That’s not defiance—it’s protection.
It’s the brain doing its job to survive.
Tools That Can Help With Explosive Outbursts
These tools support co-regulation, predictability, and emotional literacy over time:
1. Visual Schedules
Kids feel safer when they know what’s coming next.
Some children benefit from seeing the whole day, while others do better with just the next 2–3 steps. Start with a full-day layout, and if it becomes overwhelming, scale back to something like:
🛏 Wake up → 🍽 Eat breakfast → 🎒 Pack backpack
Use real photos or icons, and walk through it together.
🔗 Get free visual schedule printables here »
2. First/Then Language
“First, we clean up. Then, we play outside.”
This simple structure supports transitions and reduces power struggles by providing predictability and clarity.
3. Emotion + Need Cards
Kids often don’t have the words for what they feel—or what they need. Cue cards help bridge that gap:
“I feel mad. I need a break.”
(Printable version coming soon in the Little Dragon Calm-Down Toolkit!)
4. Calm-Down Spaces
Instead of traditional time-outs, create a cozy, safe space for the child to retreat to when overwhelmed.
This might include:
Pillows, weighted blankets, or soft lights
Fidgets or chewables
A name they help choose, such as “Cozy Corner” or “Dragon Den”
Let the child know:
“This is a place to feel safe—not a punishment.”
In Summary: This Work Is Slow. And Sacred.
If you’re raising a child with long, loud, overwhelming outbursts… you’re not alone.
You’re doing incredibly hard, heart-heavy work.
You’re showing up again and again—even when it feels like nothing is changing.
But here’s what’s true:
Every moment of calm you offer…
Every meltdown you stay with…
Every time you choose connection over correction…
…reshapes a child’s brain to expect safety instead of threat.
And that is the deepest work of all.
📬 Want to Ask Kate?
Do you have a question about parenting, regulation, healing, or neurodiversity?
Submit it here, and it may be featured in a future post.
✨ And if you’d like free visual tools to support your child’s regulation, download them anytime at
👉 www.katepowerscreates.com/free-resource-library
Countering Autism Myths with Facts, Compassion, and Personal Insight
Autism isn’t a tragedy—it’s a different way of experiencing the world. In this post, Katherine Powers challenges common myths about autistic children, from outdated stereotypes to assumptions about empathy and intelligence. Whether you’re a parent, educator, or ally, this is an invitation to see autistic kids through a more accurate, affirming lens.
Recently, a high-profile speech circulated, making wildly inaccurate—and deeply harmful—statements about autistic people. Claims like these aren't just wrong; they're dangerous. They feed outdated stereotypes that hurt families like mine and dismiss the dignity, intelligence, and value of people like my son, John.
As both a mother of autistic children and a special education teacher, I've spent years navigating the messy middle—where love meets advocacy and reality refuses to fit a narrow narrative. I want to push back on some of these myths, not just with facts (which we'll get to), but with truth lived out loud: through parenting, teaching, and watching my kids and students show the world exactly who they are.
Myth 1: People with Autism Will Never Hold Jobs or Pay Taxes
Let's start with this one—because it's not just incorrect, it's insulting.
My son John is fifteen. He's funny, observant, and wildly creative, and he recently fell in love with astrophotography. He spends hours capturing the stars and moon with precision and patience that would humble most adults. He's learning how to edit, format, and even sell his work because autistic people work. And they contribute. And they dream big.
I've taught dozens of autistic students, too—some with communication delays, some with advanced academic skills, and many with strengths our systems don't know how to recognize. Some may need support to access traditional employment, but that doesn't mean they're incapable. It means we're overdue for a better system that's inclusive by design.
According to recent statistics, only about 32% of autistic adults in the U.S. are employed, and many are underemployed, even with college degrees. In Massachusetts, individuals with disabilities still tend to be concentrated in low-wage, high-turnover jobs. That's not an indictment of autistic people—it's a reflection of how our systems continue to fail them.
Autism is a spectrum disorder. Some people need significant, lifelong support. Others thrive in careers that align with their interests and strengths. Many, like John, bring a unique lens to the world, including deep focus, visual thinking, pattern recognition, and creative problem-solving. These are not deficits. They're different ways of processing the world—and they are valuable.
Myth 2: People with Autism Cannot Have Relationships or Families
This myth is not only false—it's dehumanizing.
John has meaningful friendships. He shares jokes, plays games, and connects with people who truly see him. I've also witnessed countless autistic students form deep bonds with peers, siblings, teachers, and family members. Relationships might look different depending on how someone communicates, but different doesn't mean less.
Autism self-advocacy groups remind us that autistic people, like all people, deserve connection and love—and they are more than capable of giving and receiving both. We need to reframe our expectations and celebrate the many ways love shows up.
Myth 3: Autism Destroys Families
This narrative is most damaging, especially to parents navigating complex emotions and systems.
Has raising an autistic child been challenging? Of course. Parenting, in general, is hard. But John hasn't destroyed our family—he's expanded it. He's taught us patience, creativity, resilience, and the importance of advocating for what's right, not just what's easy.
This journey has strengthened our family. I've also seen countless families rise to meet their children's needs with love and tenacity. Families don't need pity or judgment—they need support, community, and accurate information. That's why we lean on self-advocacy groups, local networks, and each other.
Understanding Autism: A Spectrum, Not a Sentence
Autism is increasingly recognized as having a strong genetic component. A large-scale study published in JAMA Psychiatry (2019) found that approximately 80% of the risk for autism can be attributed to inherited genetic factors (Sandin et al., 2019). This reinforces the understanding that autism is rooted in brain development and inherited traits—not caused by parenting, trauma, or environmental factors alone. This scientific foundation helps reframe autism not as something that 'happens' to a person but as an integral part of who they are. For families like mine, that knowledge brings clarity and a more profound sense of connection.
What About the Girls Who 'Seem Fine' Until They're Not?
This conversation isn't just professional or parental for me—it's personal. Like many women, I was diagnosed with ADHD later in life, during menopause. For decades, I masked, coped, and pushed through, thinking my challenges were personal failings rather than neurological differences. The diagnosis was both a relief and a reckoning—it gave me a new lens for understanding not only my children and students but myself.
Late diagnosis is common among high-masking autistic girls—especially those with ADHD or AuDHD. My daughter is one of them. She's incredibly bright and has always had deep, passionate interests. But like many girls, her autism and ADHD went unnoticed for years because she was "doing well" on the surface. She got good grades, behaved well at school, and enjoyed "quiet" activities such as art and reading.
Girls like my daughter often fly under the radar because they learn to camouflage—mirroring peers, scripting conversations, and masking their sensory overwhelm. This strategy might work for a while, but it often unravels in adolescence, when social interactions become more nuanced and demands increase.
My daughter successfully graduated from a top-ten high school, is now finishing her junior year at a highly ranked college, and works on campus while navigating the world with incredible resilience and insight. Her path looks very different from John's, but both are valid and valuable and deserve to be seen and supported. While she manages academic pressure and social complexity, John explores the world through creativity and wonder. Their journeys reflect the beautiful diversity of the spectrum.
I also acknowledge that autism presents differently for everyone—and I see that every day in my classroom, especially among students who require intensive support for daily living and communication. Not every autistic individual will go on to college or employment. That does not, and should never, nullify their right to exist, thrive, and be valued by their communities.
As a society, if we approached differences in learning, ability, and contribution through the lens of identifying the gifts each person has to share—despite a disability or difference—maybe we'd create systems that support not just some but all. Supports that are necessary for some are often good for all, and we would all be better off.
Autism is a neurodevelopmental difference—not a disease, not an epidemic, and indeed not a tragedy. It affects how people think, communicate, and interact with the world, often in ways misunderstood or undervalued by society.
Resources like the Autism Self Advocacy Network and voices like Temple Grandin continue to educate the public and uplift autistic perspectives. Their message is clear: support, not fear—acceptance, not erasure.
The Importance of Accurate Narratives
Words matter. When public figures spread misinformation, it shapes how society treats autistic people—in schools, workplaces, and everyday life.
As a teacher, I see what happens when kids internalize the message that they are broken or less than. As a mom, I will never stop fighting for a world that sees my son's brilliance, not just his differences.
How to Help
If you want to support the autism community:
Learn from autistic voices. Start with groups like the Autistic Self Advocacy Network (ASAN).
Push for inclusive practices in your school, workplace, and local government.
Call out misinformation when you see it, especially when disguised as "concern."
Offer real support to families: respite, resources, and a listening ear.
Conclusion
The truth is that autism isn't what breaks people—misunderstanding does. Lack of support does. Stigma does.
But we can choose something better. We can listen. We can learn. And we can create a world where people like John are seen not as burdens but as brilliant, whole human beings who deserve every opportunity to thrive.
And I'll keep telling that truth—for my children, students, and every family who needs to hear it.