“Here Mom, You Should Have This One” – What Our Children Teach Us About Feelings
The other night, my four-year-old daughter and I were playing with a simple emotions puzzle. She spun the little wooden spinner with her tiny finger, landed on a feeling, and delighted in acting it out.
“I might feel embarrassed if I burp out loud,” she giggled.
“I feel surprised when it’s my birthday!”
Then she landed on frustrated. Without hesitation, she handed it to me and said in her most innocent voice:
“Here mom, you should have this one since you’re frustrated all the time.”
Her words reverberated in my chest. I felt the sting of truth in her observation—the heat in my face, the lump in my throat, the swelling of tears.
That is how my daughter sees me. Frustrated. Rushed. Split between emails and bedtime stories.
And in that moment, I was brought back to the darkest days of postpartum. Days I felt like a failure. Even with training, access, and resources, I languished. Negative core beliefs crept in: I’m not enough. I’m failing her. I’ll never catch up.
But here’s the gift: our children often hold up a mirror. And even if it stings, it offers an invitation to pause, notice, and set a new intention.
Why Emotion Identification Matters
Children’s ability to name feelings—happy, sad, scared, mad, embarrassed, surprised, frustrated—is a cornerstone of emotional development. Research shows that kids who can identify emotions in themselves and others:
Develop stronger empathy and social skills.
Build resilience in the face of stress.
Experience greater regulation in school and peer relationships.
But here’s the part we often overlook: our children learn these skills first by watching us. When a parent is chronically dysregulated—snapping, rushing, glued to their phone—children internalize that as “the normal way” to be in the world.
Our self-regulation is their roadmap.
The Parent’s Work: Regulating Ourselves
Listen parents, I am a therapist. I’ve been in the profession of emotion regulation for 15 years. I’ve logged the 10,000 hours of practice to be considered an expert in emotions. And yet—this sometimes tricks me into thinking “I’ve got this” when it comes to regulating my own emotions. The truth? I don’t.
There are days it makes me feel deep shame, even inadequacy. Days I feel like a failure. But that’s not how it works.
Our humanity—our tiredness, our loneliness, our overwhelm—is not a flaw, it’s the proof that we are living, loving, and showing up in real time. Duality also exists in this experience. My humanity is what makes me uniquely suited to mother my children through their messiest parts.
My quirks, my flaws, my silly behind-the-scenes moments—how I sing a song in a voice that makes my youngest belly laugh, or how I dance in the kitchen with my eldest—these are the core memories forming in my children’s minds. They want presence, not perfection.
My children don’t care if I’m in a tailored blazer with a fresh blowout or in their dad’s tattered late-2010s sweatshirt, hair piled in a three-day-old messy topknot (heavy on the knot). In fact, if we can’t be ourselves around our children, when can we be? They give us the opportunity to practice authenticity—to be the fullest version of ourselves, messy and whole, and to teach them that being human is not only allowed, but beautiful.
But here’s the reframe: emotional regulation doesn’t have to be a tall order. It doesn’t even need to take much time. Regulation lives in the smallest of practices: a breath before reacting, a pause before speaking, a micro-moment of noticing before rushing forward. My clients hear me call this “taking a pause to create a pocket of peace.”
Anchor Point Practices for Regulation
Catch the Belief
When you hear the whisper of “I’m failing”, pause. Name it for what it is: a negative core belief, not truth. Remind yourself: “Thoughts aren’t facts.” Then try reframing: “I am a good parent who is learning to slow down.”
Anchor Breaths
Before responding—whether to a tantrum or a tough comment—place your hand on your chest and take three slow breaths. Imagine dropping an anchor into the present moment.Narrate Your Feelings
Show your child that adults feel, too. “I’m feeling frustrated because I was rushing. I’m going to take a deep breath to help me calm my thoughts and body.” This normalizes emotions and models healthy responses.Micro-Connections
Even two minutes of full presence—eye contact, putting your phone down, letting them direct the play—communicates safety and belonging. Quality outweighs quantity.Daily Reset Ritual
Choose one transition of the day (after daycare pickup, before bed) where you set an intention: no phone, no multitasking. Just presence. This becomes your tether back to connection.
Setting Intention
That night with my daughter, I felt the sting of her truth but also the invitation it carried. My intention now: to be more regulated, more present, and more compassionate toward myself. In doing so, I am teaching her to extend the same compassion and kindness to herself.
Our children don’t need us to be flawless. They need us to show that frustration can be softened, that failure can be repaired, and that love can anchor us back to safety.
And when the old beliefs creep in, I remind myself: thoughts aren’t facts.
How Anchor Point Can Help
At Anchor Point Behavioral Health, we believe therapy is not about erasing frustration, grief, or self-doubt. It’s about finding stability in the midst of change, rewiring negative beliefs, and building emotional safety—for ourselves and for our children.
Whether you are navigating postpartum struggles, parenting challenges, or the daily stress of balancing it all, we help you chart a new course: one anchored in regulation, resilience, and connection.
Intention for today: I can pause. I can breathe. I can be present in this moment. And that is enough.