At least one of my kids cries every day. If there was a day when someone didn’t, I don’t remember it. Often I don’t even know why they are crying.
Like on this day (she will be so embarrassed about this some day):
When I was a kid I thought that adults didn’t cry. I was sorely disappointed as I grew up and kept having ‘those days’ where I just needed to cry about something…or nothing.
My kids cry about all sorts of things. They are tired. They don’t want to go home. They wanted the green plate, not the red one. The car tracks won’t go together right. Dinner isn’t what they wanted. They have to put their shoes on to go to the store. They can’t find their shoes. They have to buckle up in the car. “He hit me!” “She took my toy.” “I want it to be my birthday.” “He’s copying me.”
Crying is a lot like whining. It drains my patience very quickly.
But my kids are people too. They have very real, strong feelings. And trapped in their little bodies, those feelings just tend to overflow.
I don’t understand why, but sometimes it is really important to them to have the green plate. Sometimes they have ‘those days’ just like I do. And like my daughter, they just feel like crying.
So I let them.
When we are at home they are welcome to cry for as long as they need to, in their room.
When they lose control and just can’t keep the tears in, my first instinct is to tell them, or loudly encourage them (aka, yell) to stop crying. This NEVER makes it better. It usually makes it a whole lot worse. So instead, I go against my natural tendency and I calmly invite them to go finish in their room. It usually sounds like, “I see you’re sad. You are welcome to cry in your room. Feel free to come out when you are done.” Sometimes they head toward their room right away and sometimes they collapse in a heap on the floor. On other occasions they can’t seem to remember where their room is. I help them to get there when they can’t manage it on their own.
One day, my two year old came to me and said, in a very calm voice, “I sad, Mom. I go to my room.” I said ok and she turned and headed off toward her room. As I heard the door shut I could hear the wailing start and I just laughed. And then I did a little ‘mommy victory dance.’ After about 10 minutes she came out, happy as could be.
I have no idea why she felt she needed to cry but I am so glad that she felt comfortable telling me how she felt. And I was proud that she was polite enough to cry in her room so that the rest of us didn’t have to hear it.
There are a few reasons why I handle crying like this.
1 – Like I said before, they are people too. Every person on this earth has emotions. That is part of what makes us human. Of all the ways that we can express sad or angry or upset emotions, crying is awesome. It isn’t hurting anyone. It isn’t hurting them. And they can easily take it somewhere that it won’t bother anybody.
2 – Crying is annoying, and I don’t want to listen to it. When my kids cry in their room I can still hear it, but there is at least one wall and one door between me and the wailing, and that makes it so much easier to hear. My patience doesn’t drain as quickly. This allows me to keep control of the rest of the household and myself, especially.
3 – The sadness remains their problem. The only person that can make us happy is us. I cannot make my kids be happy. They are masters of themselves and I want them to learn that they can choose what to do with how they feel. But I also need to teach them how to cope with things properly. Going to my room is exactly what I do when I need to cry. So I expect the same courtesy from them. If they are having a particularly rough day, I will often go into their room and ask if they would like me to hold them. I love to give them a shoulder to cry on. And I just stay there until they pull away. Sometimes they refuse the hug, but at least it was offered and they know I was there for them.
There are some exceptions to sending them to their room when they cry, i.e. injury. When things like that happen, I address the issue and I take care of my children.
We have kept this pattern of crying in their room so consistently that I often don’t have to remind my boys. They just go there automatically. And it doesn’t usually take very long for them to decide that they would rather be out with the rest of us.
Crying, or feeling like crying, happens to all of us. I love that my kids are learning that even though this emotion overtakes them, they still have power to choose what to do with it. I hope that my kids will learn to be responsible with their emotions and considerate of others when they are not feeling like they are at their best.
And I hope to keep my sanity in the mean time.
