How Do You Not Lose It with Your Kids?
Just One Question with Melinda Wenner Moyer, Debbie Sorensen, Heidi Fiedler, Marika Páez Wiesen, and Molly Dickens
Hello, today we have another installment of Just One Question, where I ask smart, interesting people just one question. We rally against the “one right way” fallacy of parenthood by asking questions and featuring many answers. Juicy questions demand some space, and Substack tells me this email takes up much of it. If this post gets cut off in your email, you can read the whole thing right here.
Curious questions can tell beautiful, messy, and imperfect stories. You can check out the last installment here:
Losing it…We all do it
Let’s start with the fact that we all lose it with our kids. Pre-parenthood, I really, really thought I was going to stay calm and present all the time. I think we can all guess how that worked out. It turns out that sleep deprivation, strong-willed children, lots of competing demands, and unmet needs lead to the opposite of calmness. It has taken time to figure out how to lose it less, but not to lose it never, because I am still human.
For this round, I selected the question:
“What do you do to help yourself not lose it with your kids?”
This is asked in the tradition of crowdsourced wisdom. This is not one-size-fits-all or about perfection. When I sent this out, I suggested that all our contributors consider this:
“Your answer does not need to be based on science or research but based on real life—what really happens among the messy kitchen counters and the cranky kids at bedtime. By sharing what we do to support ourselves, we acknowledge that we all need things to help support us.”
I’ll just say it again…we all need things to help support us. Another thing I didn’t factor in when envisioning myself as a super calm mom was the rest of the world. When a lot is going on in the world, it doesn’t neatly stay outside of the house. The stress of work demands, world events, and uncertainty about the future can grow into some mighty big feelings, and unfortunately, our kids, spouses, and unsuspecting couch corners may get the brunt of some of those feelings. And even though the couch had it coming for getting in the way of my toe, I don’t want those feelings spilling out on my kids. Having some ideas to try out from time to time might be helpful for when a little person is running laps around the kitchen 20 minutes past bedtime.
And that’s what we have here, some ideas to consider. No prescriptive advice—that’s just not the style here at A Wonderful Mess.
And without further ado, here we go.
The answers
I am so happy to welcome
, , , , and into the mess. Thank you so much for your willingness to answer just one question.“Asking this question in my head”
Of course, I do lose it with my kids sometimes (we all do!). But one thing that keeps me calm is asking this question in my head: Could my kid's behavior reflect a lack of skill or knowledge? In other words, is it maybe actually totally understandable that they are acting this way? Sometimes my kids will break "rules" and then I'll realize that the "rule" they broke is something I've never communicated, and they couldn't possibly know on their own. Once, I discovered my daughter eating Easter chocolates in her bed — there was chocolate and wrappers everywhere — and I wanted to yell, "What were you thinking?!" But then I asked myself: Have I ever clearly communicated that she shouldn't eat chocolate (or anything else, for that matter) in her bed? I realized that I hadn't, and to explode in anger wouldn't be particularly fair. So, instead, I decided to use the moment as an opportunity to set the rule for the first time. I think I said something like, "Oh my gosh, chocolate everywhere! I think this will come out in the wash, but in the future, let's not eat chocolate in bed so we can avoid a mess." This question — could my kid's behavior reflect a lack of skill or knowledge? — also works when your child is acting out due to exhaustion, overstimulation, or the inability to emotionally regulate. In that case, what they're lacking is a skill, not knowledge, but the same rationale applies: If they haven't yet fully developed the skills needed to handle the situation they're in, then it's probably not fair for me to scream at them for acting out. Again, this is not a totally failsafe method — sometimes parents lack the skills needed to handle situations, too! But asking this question often gives me enough emotional distance to cobble together a more appropriate (and non-screamy) reaction.
Melinda Wenner Moyer is an award-winning contributing editor at Scientific American magazine and a regular contributor — and former columnist — at The New York Times. She is the author of How To Raise Kids Who Aren’t Assholes and the upcoming Hello Cruel World!: Science-Based Strategies for Raising Terrific Kids in Terrifying Times. She writes the popular Substack parenting newsletter, Now What, at melindawmoyer.substack.com.
You can pre-order Melinda’s new book now.
“Sometimes it’s gallows humor”
Parenting can be amazing, difficult, and utterly ridiculous – and sometimes all of these things at once! When I’m about to lose it, it helps me to tap into the kernels of humor to be found in the hard parenting moments.
Sometimes, it’s gallows humor - like the time years ago when my kids were quite young, and a holiday event involving lasagna and a hot cocoa bar resulted in my husband and me cleaning projectile vomit from our daughter’s bed, walls, and bookshelf in the middle of the night. It was so absurd that if we didn’t laugh, we would have cried. There are so many “wow, this is ridiculously hard” moments like this as a parent - the absurdity level is high.
Other times, humor can help us do some perspective-taking. Kids are cute and hilarious, and sometimes the things that upset us in the moment are actually quite funny - if we can step back from frustration and remember the big picture. Imagine telling your child about this moment 20 years from now when they are an adult. You both might chuckle about the legendary tantrum they threw at the grocery store when they were two or how they refused to wear socks when they were four. They won’t do these frustrating things forever. A little humor can help us to transcend the hard moments and tap into the big picture of what’s most important.
Humor can also disarm everyone (including parents and kids) and reduce tension. As an example, my kids went through a phase of yelling “shut up” when they were angry. This is not something we want them to say. We told them they couldn’t say it unless they said, “shu-up!” in a funny voice. Every time they said it, we would all start using the funny voice. Humor helped us step out of a control battle, and a little irreverence helped them save face and turn their anger into a silly, playful moment.
A few caveats:
1. Humor does not work in every situation. It can be invalidating and avoidant at times and must be used thoughtfully.
2. I will admit that I can’t always access humor. Like everyone, I do have moments of losing it with my kids, and when I’m at my wit’s end, I don’t find it funny at all. Humor has a time and a place.
But when used thoughtfully, humor can help me not lose it with my kids and add an element of playfulness to otherwise hard parenting moments.
Debbie Sorensen PhD, is a mom of two tweens and a clinical psychologist in Denver, Colorado. She is a co-host of the podcast Psychologists Off the Clock, author of the book ACT for Burnout: Recharge, Reconnect, and Transform Burnout with Acceptance and Commitment Therapy*, and co-author of ACT Daily Journal. When she's not busy trying to avoid losing it with her kids, she writes occasional essays about life in general on her Substack.
“See my son's disability in a richer, more nuanced way”
In the moment, I often just have to leave the room and come back to whatever the issue is when we're both more ready, whether that's in 5 minutes or 5 months. But I think the thing that has truly helped me soften and try to understand WTF is happening when my son is wild and unreachable is taking workshops with autistic adults. Hearing them articulate their inner experiences has given me so much more empathy for my son. It's helped me understand that so much of what is happening isn't in his control, and his behavior doesn't always reflect his feelings. Hearing from adults with a variety of strengths and weaknesses has helped me see my son's disability in a richer, more nuanced way, and that has helped me meet him where he is, even if it's not where either of us wants him to be. (Occupational therapist Kelly Mahler teaches some great workshops with autistic adults if you're looking for a place to start.)
Heidi Fiedler is a writer, editor, and creative coach. She dreams up cozy stories for kids and writes about creativity and motherhood on her Substack Nebula Notebook. Heidi lives with her family and her favorite books in Massachusetts. Learn more about the work she does at helloheidifiedler.com, or find her on Instagram @heidifiedler.
“I lay right down on the floor.”
I have a weird way of dealing with the most tense moments of parenting (and lucky me, I have had many, many opportunities to try all the wrong things!).
When I get overwhelmed by my feelings, by the things I want to say or do that I know I should not—I lay right down on the floor.
I get down in the dirty kitchen floor crumbs, the cramped stairwell, beside the shoes lined up by the door, or drape myself over the piles of clothes, stuffies, and hairbrushes littering my daughter's carpet. I press my back to the ground, eyes on the ceiling.
The strategy works on two levels. First, the instantaneous and literal change in perspective helps me remember that I have power to choose how I act next, despite my feelings. And second, I interrupt the crashing momentum of whatever stand-off was happening in that moment, usually leaving the other combatant with mouth agape, or maybe even the tiny hint of a giggle.
Marika Páez Wiesen lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her barbecue-obsessed husband, her video-game-obsessed 13-year-old son, and her musical-theater-obsessed 11-year-old daughter. She is an educator, writer, and coach who helps women craft lives that feel easier and more satisfying. She runs the Substack newsletter Living the In-Between Times and is writing a book about the weird, playful experiments she's tried in the pursuit of breaking up with perfectionist, all-or-nothing mindsets that tell us we never have enough, never do enough, and never are enough.
“I have a ‘tap out’ agreement.”
Acknowledge the real “why” behind the feeling of losing it – I try to channel the mantra “parent the child you have, not the child you want”* (*not my words, but I can’t remember who said this first). Yes, it would be awesome to have a kid that goes along with every rule, exhibits nothing but respect, and never pushes any buttons. But that is not my kid. One of my daughters is the ultimate button pusher, a scrappy challenger to every rule laid out. I cannot parent her the way I parent my older daughter (or the way I see so many other parents who seem to have an easier time of it). I find myself losing it more often with her because I feel the pressure to make her conform to rule-following (and it doesn’t help that we are so similar in how we see and approach what is ”right” and both have a hard time giving in to the other even when they are probably “right”!) In these moments of frustration, I try to remind myself that her feistiness, scrappiness, and capacity to challenge every inch of authority will serve her really well in adulthood. I have learned to be more creative with how we work together to set expectations and rules so that we can avoid going head to head in the heat of a moment. It’s hard to parent a feisty daughter, but it’s amazing to watch her grow into her own and channel this spirit in positive ways. I try to remind myself that big, lifelong pros for her may require frustrating child-rearing “cons” for me.
Walk away – Sometimes, you just gotta take a deep breath and remove yourself from the equation. Doubling down never works in my house. My husband and I have a “tap out” agreement where the other parent will swap in if things appear to be reaching the “I’m about to lose it” stage.
Repair– I also try to be kind to myself when I do lose it. Repair is the key here. Circling back with the kids to admit I was wrong, talking about how my response was overblown, and apologizing for how it might have affected them. My kids still talk about a moment during COVID lockdown where I fully lost it and threw a backpack to the ground in frustration. A buckle broke, and to this day, over four years later, they still rib me about “the time mom broke the backpack”. They only seem to bring it up as a way to be funny and make fun of me, so I guess my repair after that moment of losing it worked?
Molly Dickens, PhD, is a stress physiologist and women’s health advocate. Molly currently holds a position as a visiting researcher at the University of California at Davis and serves as a research advisor to Poppy Seed Health. Her ongoing work focuses on the intersection of stress, women’s health, and the structures, systems and cultural narratives that fail to support women and working parents. Molly has written about this work for CNN, Quartz, Harvard Business Review, MIT Sloan Management Review and The New York Times. She continues exploring the stressors related to modern American motherhood and the solutions to decrease the stress load on the Maternal Stress Project Substack.
And what about me?
One of the tools I use when I feel the tension rising is singing. I am not a singer. I happen to be related to some lovely humans who have beautiful singing voices. I did not inherit this trait. No, this is something I reach for when I know the words about to come out of my mouth will have a “tone”. That type of tone that is not going to help the situation at hand. When I sing my request for the third time, or I am about to ask something of someone who is throwing dagger eyes at me, a singing request lightens the mood. Physically, it helps reduce my body tension, and given my lack of singing talent, it may even lead to laughter. They laugh AT me, but I would too. And as everyone has already alluded to, it’s not right for every situation, so sing wisely.
The book about it…
How to Stop Losing Your Sh*t with Your Kids: A Practical Guide to Becoming a Calmer, Happier Parent* by Carla Naumburg.
I am a big Carla Naumburg fan, and her book is a helpful resource for anyone looking for more ideas on how to lose it less.
“Stop the yelling, lose the guilt, and become a calmer, happier parent.
Drawing on evidence-based practices, here is an insight-packed and tip-filled plan for how to stop the parental meltdowns. Its compassionate, pragmatic approach will help readers feel less ashamed and more empowered to get their, ahem, act together instead of losing it.”
Thank you to all the contributors for answering this question. The joy of this process for me is to see how everyone responds differently. I love learning from others and I hope others do, too!
I think it's so interesting how other mums deal with losing it, and even just realising that we all lose it sonetimes as mums is a comfort in itself. Relating to Molly saying she has a feisty daughter, described my eldest exactly! And I'm going to try out Marika's tip, lying on the floor, easy to remember and easy to do.