The Care & Keeping of Mommy

It's by modeling vulnerability that you show your greatest strength.

Recently I had to take some time off. I had some health issues that required me to be off my feet for an extended period of time and our entire family needed to shift how we function to allow me to rest and recover. For weeks, I prepped and planned, making sure that all the chauffeuring to and from activities was covered, that we had a stocked pantry, and plenty of meals in the freezer. Since I am the default parent, when I’m out of commission it has a major impact on the day to day functioning of our family, yet I really wanted things to feel as normal as possible for the girls.

This desire to keep things steady and consistent is rooted in the idea of routines being inherently calming to our minds. We know that our brains are hard wired for predictability and are more readily soothed when we can anticipate what’s coming. This opens the door for greater emotional regulation and increased resiliency. It’s particularly true during times of turmoil and distress – the more things stay the same, the easier it is to tolerate the things that are different. It’s a version of Piaget’s assimilation and accommodation.

As I was preparing for my time off, I had these ideas about routine at the forefront of my thinking. I focused almost exclusively on working to keep the girls’ lives as consistent as possible, which includes having them see their mom as strong and capable. I was concerned though, because I knew I was not going to be myself…And then I realized that there is just as much value in having them see me as needing help, as being vulnerable – things that I don’t show them very often, or ever.

For a host of reasons, I’ve spent much of my life honing my independence, my resiliency, and expanding my capacity to manage things. It’s been of primary importance to me that I raise my daughters to be strong, capable, and independent - able to cope with whatever life throws at them. What I came to realize though, is that it’s equally important that they also learn to ask for, and accept, help; and the best way for them to learn this is to model it for them – something I really haven’t done. I certainly talk a good game about the importance of asking for help, and highlighting that being strong means knowing when to lean on others. The challenge for me personally, is that this is not as easy to model as it is to teach.

Modeling behavior is a bedrock to parenting – it offers a real-life example for how to approach, manage, and tolerate any experience you encounter. It comes from behavioral psychology and has connections to many cognitive and developmental theories of childhood. Modeling fosters confidence and flexibility, particularly as you navigate increasingly complex situations.

So, I changed my approach. Instead of talking about how much they all needed to help with the chores and the day-to-day household functioning, I started talking to them about how I needed their help to stay on the couch, how I needed help remembering to take it easy and not do my normal million-mile-an-hour thing. Making this shift resulted in a totally different vibe with the girls. Instead of them being nervous and worried about my well-being, they began to feel empowered to be caretakers. Rather than focusing on what I am not able to do, they could focus on all the things they could do. This subtle, yet powerful, change in framing activated their burgeoning identities as well as their sense of self as helper, as tender caretaker, and more importantly it offered a model for how to be strong and in need simultaneously.

Over the last few days, I’ve been surrounded by their favorite guys, been read to in bed, had my water filled, and been scolded for getting up more than I am supposed to. They also continue to look for snuggles and have been flexible with how we do bedtime tuck-ins. My girls have shown that they can accept strength and being in need in the same breath, and are willing to accept this nuance from their mom. While they are clearly a bit weirded out by seeing me sit so still (I really am kind of like the energizer bunny), they seem to have resonated with the idea of being a tender caretaker, a position they don’t have to be in very often, yet one they can step into without duress or sacrifice to their role as my child.

There was an unexpected benefit to this – it helped me reframe my own relationship with accepting help from others. I found that because I was focused on modeling vulnerability for my daughters, it made it easier for me to be vulnerable with others, to accept the thoughtful treat from a friend, to ask for help from a neighbor, to share my slow recovery more willingly. The last week or so has offered me the chance to show, not just tell, my girls something incredibly powerful – that being strong requires vulnerability. It helped me show them that it takes courage to be vulnerable, to expose your tender spots, and to trust that you will be cared for in the way that you deserve by those you love.

Parenting is hard. Parenting while feeling unwell is particularly hard. Modeling vulnerability can help.