A Quick Note to Parents Carrying the Load This Season
The load is always heavy and often invisible.
But there’s something about this time of year that raises the stakes.
The endless end of school concerts, parties, celebrations, projects, picnics, sports, gift organizing-need I go on?
The emotional containment of managing the goodbyes to teachers and classmates and the unknown future.
The milestones and graduations that leave everyone in a place of shifting identities.
The uncertainty and excitement of what’s to come with summer.
The longer days, nicer weather and energy depletion that comes with with the opportunities they bring.
The underdeveloped brains that lack the skills to manage any of this independently and act out, regress, cling, talk back, demand autonomy, wake up overnight, wake up early, and rely on you to fill in the gaps.
Ok, so there are a lot of things that raise the stakes.
And the demands it puts on parents are overwhelming to say the least.
If you feel it, there’s nothing wrong with you or your kid. We live in a system that moves at a pace and contains a volume that doesn’t allow us to keep up if we don’t move swiftly and endlessly.
The system is broken. Childhood is too busy, too rushed and too expedited. Hyperfocused on kids’ achievements and parenting that shows them off.
And in the background you are working like a maniac to make it happen. Yet feeling like you aren’t even making a dent.
And that you are invisible.
I’m not here to give you tips on how to manage it. To suggest tools for organizing to make it look neater. Tips for self-care that you don’t have the time for. I can tell you to do less and let things go to the wayside but I know the pressure cooker, I live in it too. It doesn’t feel like we can let any balls drop right now.
We can work on how to push back against the ridiculous machine of perfection, pressure, competitiveness, achievement and consumption later.
Just want to let you know that I see you.
Like, I really, really see you.
Your exhaustion. Your rage. Your burnout. Your resentment. Your grief.
Your pride. Your joy. Your excitement. Your fulfillment. Your poise.
You’re a great parent.
Until next time,
Allie