It’s my husband’s 40th birthday and I really want it to be all about him. We’re living in The Land of Covid — you know: that desolate, dark place where milestone birthdays go to die— the one where no friends get to give you a real hug or drop by for a real beer. My husband, the ultimate “life of the party” and the ultimate friend, is stuck just with me for his party this time around. 

He’s not pouting on the outside but I can tell he’s just plain disappointed. Some of his friends had pretty epic parties as they entered their fourth decade and, while he doesn’t need all that, he’d love to be hanging with his best buds instead of in a party of two. 

“I’m sorry, babe,” I say as he leaves for work in the morning without a lick of enthusiasm. 

I try to make things extra special to compensate for the weird times we’re living in. I’ve planned for a special Spanish restaurant meal to be delivered right at 8:30 p.m. when I know the kids will be asleep. Four of his besties and their wives are planning on meeting us on Zoom to watch a slideshow I threw together (No, wait, stop. Actually it took me 12 stinkin’ hours to put it together but I’m pretty sure it’s just because I’m not lacking in some technological skills).

I got a former Red Sox player to send him a special birthday wish video. I’m trying. 

8:10 p.m. : The kids are suddenly energizer bunnies and it looks like sleep is the furthest thing from their minds.

8:15 p.m.: The food delivery service says they’ll be 20 minutes late.

8:31 p.m.: My computer is on the fritz. No one can get into the Zoom Meeting.

8:35 p.m.: Food Delivery Notification: “Your Order Has Been Cancelled.”

8:36 p.m.: My husband to me, “It’s all fine. Who cares? Yeah, sure it’s disappointing but at least it’s a story.”

9:15 p.m.: Replacement Italian food delivered (and cold). 

9:20 p.m.: Second Italian food order delivered (I somehow ordered twice?!?!)

9:30 p.m.: Tears from me at how terribly wrong this birthday has gone, on the couch, having a very weird birthday celebration. I’m done trying to put on a really happy face in a moment when I feel genuine frustration but it feels selfish on someone else’s birthday to show it. 

9:31: I let it all out and now I’m good. We’re laughing at the plethora of pasta we’ll have this week in the fridge and at how NOTHING in our lives looks the same as it did last year (for the better in some areas and for worse in many others). 

We all face disappointment and discouragement. We all feel sad, get frustrated, and want to just straight up cry from time to time. So do our kids.

And the cool thing is, when we learn how to move through our emotions in a healthy way, instead of stuffing them down or trying to grit our teeth through them, we teach our kids to do the same. 

In pediatrics we talk about the idea of The Whole Brain Child, an amazing book you should absolutely read if you haven’t already. The basic concept is that we all have a more primitive, emotional part of our brain in what’s called the amygdala, and a more logical, practical part that, anatomically, sits on top and acts as a sort of lid on those emotions. Our kids tend to “flip their lids” easily when they’re upset, but as adults we sometimes do this, too. Think about the times you’ve been cut off in traffic and you suddenly find yourself trying not to bang the steering wheel or scream at a perfect stranger. 

When it comes to parenting, our job is help kids learn a healthy way to deal with emotions so that lid doesn’t get flipped as often and, in my pediatrics office, we typically talk about emotion-coaching our children as a way to “burp the lid” over time so it doesn’t need to have an explosive opening each time something doesn’t go our child’s way. 

As adults, though, how do we burp our own lids and set an example for our kids to do the same?

We take care of ourselves by getting sleep, exercise, and time to ourselves so we’re able to ride the waves of life more easily, no matter what comes our ways. Listen, Mama. These are the facts: if you are sleep-deprived and your body has not been in motion for weeks, you WILL be more likely to lose it in general. We take a stance that we’re ok with not always being ok. We articulate our feelings, our wants, and our desires clearly. We allow our emotions to come out again and again, slowly over time, so they don’t boil over unexpectedly. 

It's okay to feel anxiety, feel a bit scared, and have worries - ESPECIALLY right now with COVID-19, back to school (or whatever it is we’re calling this fall’s distance learning plans), and our new work normals. 

Identifying emotions (good AND more importantly, bad) is a critical component to resilience and building it. It also helps us work through bad things and times. Our children are sponges and the product of what they see on a day to day basis. If we want them to grow up where they can have vulnerable moments with their partners and friends, let's show them and teach them! 

What do you do to help your kids be able to work through challenging times? How do you set up an excellent example for your kids to learn from when dealing with emotions?