Shards of glass from the shattered mirror lay sprayed across the floor. The boy is talking fast, voice tight with tears held back, all the sorrow and fear and frustration blurting out the story of how it got there.
“I’m sorry.” He finishes, a sob escaping as his emotions release.
It’s easy to miss the opportunity in a moment like this, caught up as we become in the mess, the wreckage, the stupidness of breaking a mirror because you were fighting with your brother over who got to be closest to it while brushing their teeth.
I don’t have words yet. I don’t need them. I walk over to that boy who is already fully aware of his mistake and reach for him. I don’t need to teach him to be more careful; that he messed up. He knows.
I need to teach him that even now he is safe. He is loved. He is more important to me than things. I take him in my arms and simply hold him as he sobs, slowing my breathing and staying there, holding him until I feel his breathing slow, his body relax.
We are regulating together.
When I do speak it’s calm, and practical. I tell the other brother to fetch the broom and dustpan.
We clean it up. I listen to both of them retell it. The details don’t really matter, but each of them feeling like they are listened to does.
I remind us all that it’s late. We are tired. We make more mistakes when we don’t have enough rest.
As I tuck him in he reaches for another hug. Again, I stay an extra few breaths, noticing the moment when he sighs out slowly, the space before the in-breath. Again his breathing slows. His body relaxes.
Safety is the gift we can give our children, as we cultivate safety in ourselves, our own bodies, our own mindset.
We often miss the opportunity to be the safe space for our child; to be the one they can trust. Instead, we get swept along beside them in the chaos. But the most chaotic moments can be the points of deepest connection, if you know how.
Will your child turn to you when they are facing something hard?
One thing that comes up over and over again in my conversations with parents is the sadness that they feel when they find out that a child has gone through something hard and chosen to go through it alone instead of talking to them about it. They feel as though they have failed their child somehow, and don't know how to rebuild trust and connection.
I’ve heard many of you tell me that you’re struggling with how to provide emotional safety for your children.
I’m working on a little something. I’m not quite ready to tell you about it yet. But, I am sure that it's going to help a lot of parents who are overwhelmed, and stuck in reactive cycles, learn to create a home with connection and trust instead.
If you resonate with wanting your kids to be able to trust you enough to come to you when something is wrong, I'd love to talk to you. Would you be willing to jump on a quick call with me sometime this week?
Just hit that reply button and let me know.
With love, Carrien