This morning, I witnessed my daughter, Mia, struggling with her socks. They were inside out, and she was determined to turn them right side out and put them on by herself. I offered a gentle hand, but she retorted with a familiar, “No! I can do it myself!”
It’s often said that as parents, we end up mirroring the behaviors we exhibited as children. As I heard her words and our shared frustration grew—her with the socks and me with my desire to assist—I couldn’t help but reflect on how exasperating this stubbornness must have been for my own parents when I was Mia’s age. Honestly, it’s still quite bothersome to navigate life this way as an adult. I often find myself donning a mask of perfection, convincing everyone—including my family, friends, husband, and myself—that I can manage everything solo. I can catch the bus on time, care for the baby through sleepless nights, pack lunches, whip up homemade dinners, and engage in creative projects with the kids. I can do it all! Truly! I can!
Except when I can’t.
The reality is, I’d been through a challenging week. My partner, Jake, had just returned home after a long business trip. While he had traveled before since our youngest, Ava, was born, this was the first time he had been away for an extended period, especially after our supportive family had departed. I was alone with all three kids. I was “on” 24/7, like a relentless news channel that repeats itself.
Jake left early Monday morning, and by noon, I realized I needed to lower my expectations. Sure, I could do laundry, but putting it away? Not a chance. We might catch the school bus, or we might not. If we drove, we’d barely make it in time. Homework would get done, and the kids would eat, even if that meant serving scrambled eggs for dinner most nights. During a quiet day at home with Mia, when she asked why we weren’t doing more (because Mommy is exhausted! Because I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in days!), I mustered the energy for a cooking project. We ended up making hamantaschen for Purim—just six, but it was something we accomplished together.
By Wednesday, I realized my mantra of low expectations wasn’t going to cut it. I needed to embrace a more radical approach: accepting help. The idea of asking for assistance felt daunting, akin to Mia grappling with her socks but on a much larger scale.
So, when a neighbor offered to walk my son, Max, to the bus stop, I said yes. When a friend called to bring dinner, I accepted. That delicious meal sustained me for two nights and even breakfast. When another friend offered to drive Mia home from piano class, I agreed. And when an amazing friend suggested she hold Ava so I could enjoy a quiet coffee break, I said yes.
That single word—yes—changed everything. It’s humbling to realize it took me 36 years to come to this conclusion. All those kind offers made my week manageable and got me to Friday, the moment when my wonderful husband walked through the door. I knew I needed a little break, even if it was just an hour with a beer and fries, away from my beloved little ones.
As I grabbed my keys, I called up to him, “Need anything?” He replied, “Just you.”
“That’s easy,” I said. “I’ll go get her. Be back in an hour.”
I need him. I need her. I need them all. Yes.
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Summary:
The author reflects on her struggles with parenting, particularly her reluctance to accept help. After a challenging week alone with her children while her partner was away, she learns the importance of saying “yes” to assistance, which ultimately helps her cope better and appreciate her family.
Keyphrase:
Parenting and Accepting Help
Tags:
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