This resonates in a specific way when you're parenting across two cultures. A kid's silence, or a flattened one-word answer, can look like disinterest when it's actually them working something out in translation, code-switching between what they'd say in one language and what comes out in the other. I've caught myself building a whole story about what my daughter must be feeling, when really she just hadn't found the word yet in the language we were speaking in that moment. The file you're describing has to stay open a little longer in a bilingual house, I think, just to account for the lag.
My husband and I have watched for years as a close family member labels their kids — not just in private, but in front of them. We always swore we wouldn't do that, and I think we've mostly stuck to it. I love how this post goes even deeper, pushing us to keep challenging the assumptions we make about our own kids. Thank you for this!
My wife and I led a marriage study a few years ago, and one of the better pieces of advice that was given was to assume that the other person is in a position of good will. They are not saying or doing anything to purposefully hurt or mislead. "I mean this with good will," is a phrase we start many sentences with. Our children use this as well. Kids are entitled to bad days just as much as adults. Good words! Thanks for sharing.
I love this, Maury. "Assume a position of good will” is such a powerful foundation, and what a gift that your kids have adopted the language, too. There’s so much room for repair, honesty, and hard days when everyone starts from the belief that we’re on the same team.
"Not knowing can feel like failure or lost access, like we’ve gone from the person who could once read the whole room to the person hoping to be let." This. My daughters and I are so close but I am facing it with as much humility and self-compassion as possible- they are 21 and 18. And even though they still want to go for breakfast with me and have girls' night (🙏🙏🙏), they have their lives. They tell me anything but I cannot expect them to tell me everything. So much that I don't see or know anymore. It is such a challenge. And it is such a challenge to understand where the moods are coming from. I am not a worrier. I have never been. But when my daughter is feeling sad or dark for more than a day, my mind goes racing to all types of scenarios. Did someone hurt her? Did someone offer her drugs? Is she feeling insecure? Is she losing too much weight? What is happening behind the scenes that we see? It can be excruciating. And this is where mindfulness serves us. It helps us return to balance, patience, acceptance, peace. Trust. In the end, as our kids grow, our sanity and stability is based on how much trust we have in what we gave them to work with, trust that they will remember core values, trust that the Universe will guide them. Trust that they will be okay and so will we. And the humility to be okay with not knowing, misunderstanding, not always handling the transition from child to adult well. Much of my survival as a mom has been based on my own ability to forgive myself. As they grow this does not change. They are always learning and changing. And so are we. The best relationships acknowledge this and make adjustments as time passes. What doesn’t change is the need for our attention. I am practicing this even more lately. Thank you Erin. I always love to pop in and have a therapy session in your comments space 😅🤣🥰😘
“They tell me anything but I cannot expect them to tell me everything” is such a beautiful and honest way to put it. That feels like one of the central tensions of parenting kids as they become adults. We can still be close. We can still be trusted. We can still be invited to breakfast and girls’ night and the ordinary sweetness of being together. And still, there will be whole parts of their lives we don’t automatically get to see anymore.
You’re so right. Trust becomes a daily practice here: trust in them, in what we’ve tried to give them, in the relationship itself, and in the reality that not knowing everything doesn’t mean we’ve lost them.
And yes to self-forgiveness. They are still becoming, and so are we. I think that may be one of the most humbling parts of parenting older kids: we don’t graduate from learning how to love them well. The relationship keeps asking us to adjust.
I’m so grateful you brought this here. Your comment feels like its own worthy essay. 🧡
Erin, we are always learning. I am reminded constantly of this. Today I spoke to my stepmom of over 40 years. We are so close. Closer than with my mom in many ways. We hadn't spoken for about 10 days. Too long. We both miss each other so much. But when I called her, she was borderline nasty. I could tell something was off. I was off too bc I missed her and felt bad that she was not happy to speak with me. We spoke for 90 min., little by little the tone softened. At the end, she apologized. She said that she was feeling mad that I live so far away and so she took it out on me. But really she, like I do, wants just to be able to share as much of our life with one another. The distance is equally hard on both of us. I thought about it afterwards. We never stop learning to be there for our children. She reminded me of something Kendall Lamb said in this month's Bare HEARTS: much of parenting is learning how to repair. And this is what it is wihen we love someone so much it hurts. When we love them too hsrd like we sometimes do with our children - we remember repair remember repair and this is how we learn to love better. I just adore sharing thoughts with you. Thank you. xo
This resonates in a specific way when you're parenting across two cultures. A kid's silence, or a flattened one-word answer, can look like disinterest when it's actually them working something out in translation, code-switching between what they'd say in one language and what comes out in the other. I've caught myself building a whole story about what my daughter must be feeling, when really she just hadn't found the word yet in the language we were speaking in that moment. The file you're describing has to stay open a little longer in a bilingual house, I think, just to account for the lag.
My husband and I have watched for years as a close family member labels their kids — not just in private, but in front of them. We always swore we wouldn't do that, and I think we've mostly stuck to it. I love how this post goes even deeper, pushing us to keep challenging the assumptions we make about our own kids. Thank you for this!
Such wisdom and written so well. Much love.
As always, I feel like I need to thank you for your post. Beautiful wisdom sis
My wife and I led a marriage study a few years ago, and one of the better pieces of advice that was given was to assume that the other person is in a position of good will. They are not saying or doing anything to purposefully hurt or mislead. "I mean this with good will," is a phrase we start many sentences with. Our children use this as well. Kids are entitled to bad days just as much as adults. Good words! Thanks for sharing.
I love this, Maury. "Assume a position of good will” is such a powerful foundation, and what a gift that your kids have adopted the language, too. There’s so much room for repair, honesty, and hard days when everyone starts from the belief that we’re on the same team.
I wish I had realized the meaning. xoxo
Love you! xo
"Not knowing can feel like failure or lost access, like we’ve gone from the person who could once read the whole room to the person hoping to be let." This. My daughters and I are so close but I am facing it with as much humility and self-compassion as possible- they are 21 and 18. And even though they still want to go for breakfast with me and have girls' night (🙏🙏🙏), they have their lives. They tell me anything but I cannot expect them to tell me everything. So much that I don't see or know anymore. It is such a challenge. And it is such a challenge to understand where the moods are coming from. I am not a worrier. I have never been. But when my daughter is feeling sad or dark for more than a day, my mind goes racing to all types of scenarios. Did someone hurt her? Did someone offer her drugs? Is she feeling insecure? Is she losing too much weight? What is happening behind the scenes that we see? It can be excruciating. And this is where mindfulness serves us. It helps us return to balance, patience, acceptance, peace. Trust. In the end, as our kids grow, our sanity and stability is based on how much trust we have in what we gave them to work with, trust that they will remember core values, trust that the Universe will guide them. Trust that they will be okay and so will we. And the humility to be okay with not knowing, misunderstanding, not always handling the transition from child to adult well. Much of my survival as a mom has been based on my own ability to forgive myself. As they grow this does not change. They are always learning and changing. And so are we. The best relationships acknowledge this and make adjustments as time passes. What doesn’t change is the need for our attention. I am practicing this even more lately. Thank you Erin. I always love to pop in and have a therapy session in your comments space 😅🤣🥰😘
Thank you for this, Danni.
“They tell me anything but I cannot expect them to tell me everything” is such a beautiful and honest way to put it. That feels like one of the central tensions of parenting kids as they become adults. We can still be close. We can still be trusted. We can still be invited to breakfast and girls’ night and the ordinary sweetness of being together. And still, there will be whole parts of their lives we don’t automatically get to see anymore.
You’re so right. Trust becomes a daily practice here: trust in them, in what we’ve tried to give them, in the relationship itself, and in the reality that not knowing everything doesn’t mean we’ve lost them.
And yes to self-forgiveness. They are still becoming, and so are we. I think that may be one of the most humbling parts of parenting older kids: we don’t graduate from learning how to love them well. The relationship keeps asking us to adjust.
I’m so grateful you brought this here. Your comment feels like its own worthy essay. 🧡
Erin, we are always learning. I am reminded constantly of this. Today I spoke to my stepmom of over 40 years. We are so close. Closer than with my mom in many ways. We hadn't spoken for about 10 days. Too long. We both miss each other so much. But when I called her, she was borderline nasty. I could tell something was off. I was off too bc I missed her and felt bad that she was not happy to speak with me. We spoke for 90 min., little by little the tone softened. At the end, she apologized. She said that she was feeling mad that I live so far away and so she took it out on me. But really she, like I do, wants just to be able to share as much of our life with one another. The distance is equally hard on both of us. I thought about it afterwards. We never stop learning to be there for our children. She reminded me of something Kendall Lamb said in this month's Bare HEARTS: much of parenting is learning how to repair. And this is what it is wihen we love someone so much it hurts. When we love them too hsrd like we sometimes do with our children - we remember repair remember repair and this is how we learn to love better. I just adore sharing thoughts with you. Thank you. xo
Oof this was challenging in a good way.
Thank you, Meg!