Between the Baby Bear and the World

July 30, 2020

Sometimes parenting your kids well means not getting between them and their grief.

As we navigate COVID, parents have to walk a fine line between acknowledging our own distress and subjecting our kids to our frustration: There's a difference between saying "Yep, I sure am upset about this" and bursting into tears or going on an angry rant. Kids need truth from the adults in their lives, but not necessarily the complete truth. Emotional outbursts from adults can be frightening, and it's better to let kids see the people they trust as being both sad and in control, because it helps them grow up that way too.

But sometimes in our desire to keep life stable and protect kids from sad or scary stuff, we go too far the other way: We try instinctively to protect them from their own negative feelings. A few days ago, my daughter Ella was trying to sort through the vague and contradictory messages she'd received from her school. Now, no one can predict what the school experience will be like this year, anxieties are high everywhere, and my house is no exception. Mama Bear Cheerleader snapped into action and started counting blessings. I thought I was being encouraging. But Ella just looked at me and said:

"Please, Mom... stop looking at the bright side of this. It's just going to make it harder."

As someone who pretty much makes a living celebrating the bright side of each of the communities KidsOutAndAbout serves, I almost resisted. But then I realized Ella was absolutely right, and that it was much better to give her the grace of experiencing her own anxiety. She made me see that if I were to keep pushing myself between her and her grief, she might come to see it as something to be avoided at all costs rather than as a rational, natural, manageable response to bad things.

What Ella needed way more than my interference was my simple sympathy. So I dialed my positive energy way back and confined what I said to a simple "Yeah. I'm sorry. This sure sucks." It reminded me to meet people where they are rather than where I am, and to give help rather than force help.

This lesson is now one of the many pandemic blessings that I count when I need to feel better... these days, of course, a bit more quietly than before.