Meeting the Moment

By Lisa Miller

Living this SIP, cooped-up lifestyle is no joke. It's so much more than any of us bargained for, or are equipped to handle. All the self-care in the world won't help us navigate the prickly, unpredictable, alligator-filled swamp of 24/7 family togetherness. It's messy and it's hard. 

In this new, bizarro world, there are dozens, nay, hundreds of moments each day when we parents get to decide whether to ignore our child's behavior or respond to it. Tip: ignore whenever possible. However, if we choose to engage and lean into the cray-cray, we then get to decide how to meet the moment. 

Do we respond with love, compassion, honesty, anger, frustration, or some combination thereof? 

Do we just listen, or do we listen and give feedback? 

Do we try to solve the problem and/or offer support? 

Do we remind them of their privilege (if you are SIP in a house, you have privilege), encouraging gratitude and perspective?

Do we hurl reality at them?

Do we set boundaries and hold lines? 

Do we let it slide because of the Rona?

It's. Just. Too. Much.

Recently, I had a meeting-the-moment fail with my college-aged daughter. Obviously, it was a real blow when she had to leave her freshman year, at a school she loved, to live with her (lame) parents. Apparently my mothering became so overbearing that she was ready to hitchhike back to college in PA. When she texted me her plans (to flee from my oppressive parenting asap), I responded by saying good riddance, and by threatening to cut her off financially. I mean, not in so many words, but that was the gist of my text reply. Yes, I had this awful exchange via text. In the same house. 

I say it was a fail because it was not what my daughter needed in the moment (I'm not an actual mind reader, okay?) and it made me feel pretty crappy afterward. 

I had to ask for a toddler-style do-over. True story. I decided to take responsibility for my (over)reaction and apologize. I told my daughter that I wasn't proud of how I handled the situation and that it wasn't the kind of mom, or person, I want to be. I confessed that I would be very sad to see her go and I would welcome the opportunity to hear her feedback about my behavior and adjust it. Would she give me that chance?

She was surprised, and a little reluctant. But she agreed to try. We were able to have a conversation about what we both needed in order to cohabitate and I am proud to say I have adjusted my behavior (most of the time--I am still her mom after all). 

Don't get me wrong, there are many (so many!) times when I struggle to know whether to engage and how to meet the moment. It's exhausting. I survive by overlooking a lot and by pressing pause before I engage so I can ask myself how I want to meet the moment. 

And wine.

Let's just end it there...