When You’re Happy and Sad At the Same Time as a Parent

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

When You're Happy and Sad At the Same Time as a Parent (Photo: Young white boy on a swing)

“We’re going to be a little sad when you go to kindergarten,” I said to my five-year-old son at dinner one night a few weeks before school started.

His face dropped and his lip quivered.

“Oh honey! You shouldn’t be sad about growing up.” I paused, trying to figure out how to explain this. “Mommies and daddies get a little sad about their kids growing up. We know you’ll never be babies again. But we also love watching you grow up so much.” I smiled, then got up and hugged him in his chair. 

What I didn’t tell him was this:

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When a Dinner Conversation Can Have a Big Impact

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

When a Dinner Conversation Can Have a Big Impact (Photo: Open container of ranch dressing on a wooden table)

“But I want the cool sauce!” my five year old whined. We had just moved the container of ranch dressing closer to his two-year-old brother, so he could dip his chicken wing in it.

“Mine!” my younger son proclaimed.

“You guys need to share it,” I said.

“Then it should be in the middle!” my older son pointed out. To him, the solution favoring his brother was quite unjust.

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When a Parenting Fail is a Win in Disguise

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

When a Parenting Fail is a Win in Disguise (Photo: Young boy in a very long multicolored sweater on a path)

Going for a hike on a brisk day, I asked my then four-year-old if he wanted his sweatshirt. “No!” he insisted. Nonetheless, I was going to be the responsible mom and bring it along anyway. Just in case.

Arriving at the hiking trail, he climbed out of his car seat and declared, “I’m coooold! So cold!”

Going to look for the sweatshirt, my smile dropped off my face. Nope, not there. Not there either. Crap, I forgot it.

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The Two Powerful Questions I Ask My Child Every Night

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

Want to build connection at bedtime? Here are the two bedtime questions we discuss every night with our kids. 

The Two Powerful Questions I Ask My Son Every Night (Photo: Young white child sleeping on a pillow)

“Two minutes left!” I say to my five-year-old as he gets ready for bed. He is not going to be ready in two minutes. We’ll be down to one bedtime book tonight instead of two. But no matter how late he is, there’s one part of his bedtime routine we never skip.

We call it “favorite things,” but it’s a bit more complicated than that. Rather, it’s a nightly conversation framed by two core questions.

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What the Advice to Moms About Self-Care Gets Wrong

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

What the Advice to Moms About Self-Care Gets Wrong (Photo: Book and mug on bed)

Dripping sweat, I staggered in the door after my Sunday afternoon run, only to hear my two-year-old wailing “Mammmmmaaaaaaaa!”

“What happened?” I asked my husband, who I found standing outside the bathroom. I peered in to see my son sitting on the potty, his face red and damp. “He hasn’t been like this since he woke up, has he?”

I recalled some of my last words as I headed out the door: “Make sure you wake up [Little Bird].”

My husband winced. “Well, he didn’t want me to get him out of bed. And then he didn’t want to go on the potty. Then he refused to let me help him off the potty. Then he didn’t want me in the room at all.”

Walking into the bathroom, I sighed, leaned down and helped my son off the potty. After pulling up his pants and helping him wash his hands, I picked him up. HIs small arms wrapped around my neck while mine embraced him. My sweat dampened his shirt as his small face pressed into my shoulder. His crying slowed and finally subsided.

Guilt pierced me. So did anger.

“Can’t I be gone for just a half-hour?” I thought. “But maybe not. Maybe I shouldn’t.”

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When Expectations Get the Best of You and Your Kid

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

When Expectations Get the Best of You and Your Kid (Photo: White woman holding her head with her hand)

A five-year-old boy sits at a picnic table, wailing. A Junior Ranger workbook lies in front of him, open to an I Spy activity. One animal is circled, then crossed-out, then circled again. Through tears, he keeps repeating, “I can’t erase it!”

Almost 30 years earlier, a toddler girl sat on the floor, struggling to shove a block into the wrong hole in a shape sorter. Fed up with the whole thing, she chucked it across the room.

The first was my son on a camping trip a few weekends ago. The second was me as a kid. I don’t remember it happening, but my mom has told the shape sorter story over and over again. The frustrated apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

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How to Bring Kids on Public Transportation

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

Want to reduce your car use or get around a big city with your family? Be sure to learn what you need to know to bring kids on public transportation.

How to Bring Kids on Public Transportation (Photo: D.C. Metro train coming into the station)

The train doors closed right in my five-year-old son’s face. He was on one side; his grandparents were on the other. They were not reopening.

Thankfully, my husband was next to my son on the other side of the doors. They got on the next train and all was well.

While this incident was frustrating, it’s definitely not stopped us from riding transit. We’re a one-car family and driving in the Washington D.C. area is dreadful. Riding the train and bus are second nature to my kids.

In fact, riding transit can be great for families. It’s a good option if you want to cut back on driving in your own area or just try something different. If you’re traveling, it’s the only good option in many cities with heavy traffic like New York City and D.C. Riding public transit can also be an adventure!

To avoid the problems we faced, it’s keep a few things in mind:

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Why My Family is So Lucky When We Travel

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Why My Family Is So Lucky When We Travel (Photo: White man and two children standing on a boardwalk in front of a mud flat)

Passing by the neon sign reading “Guns” displayed in a Main Street store, a shudder of fear ran through me. “No, I’m safe,” I thought. I thought that in part because a gun store doesn’t automatically equal danger. But mainly I realized it because I became starkly aware of my family’s privilege while traveling.

Traveling with little kids is always A Thing. There’s car sickness, whines of “I’m bored!” and the world’s longest bathroom breaks. On our recent three-hour drive, we stopped no fewer than six times. When traveling, there’s always worries about kids wandering off or touching something dangerous, like a campfire.

But one thing that I never have to worry about is our family being discriminated against.

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When Biking Together is Just the Beginning

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

When Biking Together Is Just the Beginning (Photo: Young white boy on a bike, pedaling down a multi-use path)

Stay right, stay right!” I yell. Pedaling behind him, I watch my five-year-old wobble down the pavement on his bike. While he’s put in hours of practice at the nearby park, this is his first time on the road.

Despite my urgent tone, my heart is calm. He follows my directions, moving right when asked and braking on cue. At stop signs, he stops feet before the line. He even yells, “Stop!” to warn me. Despite the wobbly shoulders, it’s as if he’s done this a million times before.

This was a vast contrast to a year ago.

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What Happens When We Step Back as Parents?

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / Leave a comment

What Happens When We Step Back as Parents? (Photo: Young white boy holding a t-ball bat)

A white plastic ball. A red and blue t-ball stand. A a diminutive kid holding a large, yellow plastic bat.

Watching this scene play out at the playground with my two-year-old son, I tried not to interfere. After all, I thought, he should try it on his own. That is, until he started poking the ball with the narrow end of the bat. Poking it!

I walked over and tried to adjust his hands into the right position. “Look, you swing the bat!” I insisted.

And because my children are nothing of not their own people, he insisted right back.

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