"You can do hard things.” This motivational mantra (with props, I believe, to Glennon Doyle?) is one I hear invoked often when trying to get kids to muscle through challenges. But it is just as important for parents. Because, it turns out that to help our kids persist at something hard or uncomfortable, we also need to build some muscle, ourselves, as the stories below show.
These not-so-tiny victories are the result of a heavy dose of emotional regulation on the part of these moms and dads. You will see how they were able to thread that seemingly elusive needle of supporting versus enabling their children; how they found a way to be empathetic in difficult moments while not "rescuing" their children, and in so doing created powerful opportunities for them to develop greater resilience and a stronger sense of their own competence—a gift that will keep on giving.
I hope these stories will be an inspiration and will help you find your own way to support your child's healthiest functioning.
Maggie: Overcoming fear of a birthday party
Wendy takes her daughter, Maggie (5), to a birthday party. When they arrive, Maggie clings to Wendy and refuses to participate. Wendy is concerned about what this means for Maggie—what she's missing out on by her resistance to join in experiences that are not completely familiar and comfortable for her—which happens often.
Wendy is frustrated and embarrassed, and suggests they leave if Maggie isn't going to play with the other kids. But Maggie insists they stay, even as she continues to cling.
Wendy is about to pick Maggie up and take her home, when the mother of the birthday boy approaches and suggests that Wendy leave and have Maggie stay. Wendy is dubious and also worried that Maggie might experience this as abandonment and will be harmful to her relationship with Maggie. But she reluctantly agrees. When Wendy returns 90 minutes later, Maggie is all smiles and begs to stay.
Charlie: Learning to cope with disappointments
Five minutes after lights-out following a loving and uneventful bedtime routine, Charlie (6) comes out of his room in tears. When his parents ask him what's wrong, through his sobs he explains that he didn't get a chance to share in Spanish class that day. They had run out of time so not all the children who had raised their hands had been called on. He feels very sad about his and wants someone to come sleep with him. This has become a pattern: Charlie has a seemingly minor upset and needs a parent to sleep with him.
His parents, Renee and Edward, find themselves conflicted. They can see how distressed Charlie is and feel badly for him. At the same time, they are worried about how personally Charlie takes what they know are everyday, expectable incidents, and how easily he gets his feelings hurt, which makes him very vulnerable. He melts down over seemingly benign events—situations they know he will face all the time as part of life. They feel stuck as to how to respond; how to support him while also helping him cope with life's inevitable frustrations and disappointments.
In the past, they would always acquiesce and sleep with him because it felt mean not to. But now they are starting to worry that by doing so, they are inadvertently reinforcing Charlie's lack of resilience; that they are sending the message that they don't think he is able to handle these difficult feelings. They want him to see that he can feel sad or disappointed about not being called on in class, and still be able to sleep on his own without a parent next to him.
So on this night, they take a different tact. They acknowledge that at nighttime, Charlie's brain starts to replay the day. Sometimes that means he thinks about things that were hard, like not having a turn to contribute at school. They validate his feelings and remind him that these things will happen; that in life there are disappointments, and they will help him learn to cope with them. But it does not require a parent sleeping with him. He can feel sad, angry, or disappointed, AND sleep on his own in his safe, cozy bed. They tuck him back in and say goodnight. He comes out a few times and one of them calmly escorts him back to bed. Charlie eventually falls asleep. The next morning at breakfast, Renee comments that it was a hard night for him. Charlie's response, the kicker: "I was just really tired."
The lesson:
1. What children want is not always what they need.
2. What feels "mean" is sometimes what is most loving. And what feels loving is not necessarily what your child needs to cope and thrive.
For Wendy, this meant leaving Maggie at the party, which felt unloving in the moment, but which provided the opportunity for Maggie to see that she could work through the discomfort of being in new situation and end up having a blast. And, that she doesn't need her mom to make it all better.
For Renee and Edward, it meant sticking to a limit at a time when he was having big emotions. While this felt unsympathetic and insensitive, it was a gift. The boundary helped him settle down. (When they used to sleep with him, they all had a very uncomfortable night with bodies colliding and intermittent wake-ups.) It also sent the message to Charlie that they had confidence that he could cope with a difficult experience.
3. You can acknowledge and validate your child's feelings and challenges while also maintaining expectations that lead to growth and resilience. When you lower your expectations, you are sending the message to your child that you don't think she can handle the challenge she is facing. This erodes her sense of self-confidence and her ability to muscle through challenges.
Postscript
When my son, Sam. was 8, his dad and I had agreed that going to sleepaway camp would be a good experience for him. The two of them went to a dad/son weekend at the camp in the spring and Sam LOVED it and couldn't wait to go for the one month session. But at drop-off, he was hysterical. It was excruciating for us, but we knew this was to be expected. I sobbed the entire two hours home but hoped we would hear happy reports within a few days. Alas, all we received were desperate letters, begging us to come pick him up. One I will never forget included an apology for sending "this tear-stained page."
Every bone in my body wanted to hop in the car and rescue him. (I was a rescuer—one of my greatest regrets, in hindsight.) But instead, I called the director of the camp to seek an objective assessment. He reported that Sam was actually very happy at camp. He was engaged and clearly having fun in all the activities, and he was making friends. But as is known to happen, at rest hour, when the kids are idle, they think about home and feel sad and miss us.
I was able at this point to get a grip. I took a step back and asked myself what I would tell another parent in this situation: that Sam could be thriving at camp AND miss home; that these phenomena could co-exist. Further, having him stay and work this through would not be harmful to him. In fact if we picked him up, we would be sending the message that he was, indeed, not okay without us, and he would be missing an experience that we knew was very fortifying and fulfilling for him.
At the start of week 3, the letters started taking a different tone. There were no more demands for us to pick him up and he started regaling us with stories of all the adventures and activities he was enjoying. When we arrived to retrieve him at the end of the session, there were sobs once again, but this time it was because he was so sad to leave camp. He begged us to let him stay for the next session.
To this day (Sam is 31), he still sees sleepaway camp as one of the most joyful and important growth experiences of his life. My tolerating his distress, which enabled him to have this experience, was also one of my proudest moments as a mom.
I wish I could say I never reverted to rescuing at other junctures, I am still a work in progress. (Those of you who have consulted with me know how my work is informed both by professional experience and my own, often painful 20/20 hindsight.) But this camp experience is one I reflect on often as a highlight of my best parenting self and a reminder to keep me on track.
Claire Lerner, LCSW-C is a licensed clinical social worker and child development specialist. I served as the Director of Parenting Resources at ZERO TO THREE for 20+ years, where I oversaw the development of all parenting educational content. I have been a practicing clinician for over thirty years, partnering with parents to decode their children’s behavior and solve their most vexing childrearing challenges. I also provide training to local preschools and pediatric residents. I am the author of numerous parenting publications, curricula and articles in addition to a podcast and video series for parents and professionals. I write a column for PBSkids.org and have also written columns for Parents Magazine. I have been a source on early childhood development for NPR and numerous national daily newspapers such as The New York Times, the Wall Street Journal and USA Today.
