This morning, I observed little Mia engaging in a struggle with her socks. They were inside out, and she was determined to flip them right side out and put them on by herself. I gently offered assistance, only to be met with a familiar retort: “No! I can do it myself!”
It’s often said that as parents, we tend to reflect the behaviors we exhibited as children. Hearing Mia’s words resonated with me, and I couldn’t help but recall how my own parents must have felt when I displayed the same stubbornness at her age. This tendency to insist on handling everything independently can be frustrating, not just for children but also for adults. As I navigate through my responsibilities, I often find myself wearing a façade of confidence, insisting to everyone—including myself—that I don’t need support. I can manage everything: get the kids to school on time, care for the baby during sleepless nights, prepare meals, and engage in creative activities with my children. I tell myself, “I can do this! I’ve got it all under control!”
But the reality is, sometimes I simply don’t.
This week has been particularly challenging. My partner, Tom, returned home after a lengthy business trip, but this was his first extended absence since our youngest child, Hope, was born. I had been managing on my own with all three kids, day and night. I felt like a relentless news cycle—constantly active, often repeating myself, much like the endless chatter on a 24-hour news channel.
Tom left early Monday morning, and by noon, I realized I needed to lower my expectations. Laundry would get done, but it might not make it to the closet. We could potentially catch the school bus, but early arrival was out of the question. Meals would be prepared, even if they consisted of scrambled eggs most nights. During a quiet day with Mia at home, when she asked why we weren’t doing anything exciting, I explained that I was simply exhausted. I hadn’t slept more than four hours at a stretch in days. Yet, I mustered the energy to embark on a cooking project with her, and we managed to create a small batch of hamantaschen for Purim—a modest achievement, but an achievement nonetheless.
As the week progressed, I recognized that my mantra of lowered expectations wouldn’t suffice. I needed to take a more significant step: I had to accept help. The thought of admitting this was daunting, akin to my daughter’s frustration with her socks, but I realized it was necessary for my well-being.
When a neighbor offered to walk my son, Jake, to the bus stop, I accepted. When a friend inquired about bringing dinner, I said yes, and I savored that meal for two nights and possibly one breakfast as well. Another friend graciously offered to bring Mia home from piano lessons, and yet another offered to snuggle with Hope, allowing me to enjoy a hot cup of coffee for a change.
Simply saying “yes” transformed my week. It’s humbling to acknowledge that it took me 36 years to understand the power of this one small word. With the support of my community, I made it to Friday, eagerly awaiting Tom’s return. In that moment of respite, as I prepared to step out for some much-needed alone time, I called up to him, “Need anything?” He replied, “Just you.”
“I can easily take care of that,” I answered. “I’ll be back with her in an hour.”
I need my family, and I need their support. It’s essential to embrace both the joys and challenges of parenthood together.
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In summary, acknowledging the need for help and accepting support can significantly improve our experiences in parenting, fostering a sense of community and shared responsibility.