Talking with Children About Death

Photo by Kat Caldera

My aunt died yesterday. I haven’t seen her in years but it still feels like a sock in the gut to realize that I’ll never hug her or talk to her again. She was such a fun and vibrant woman. Her death was unexpected and quite shocking to the whole family. My heart goes out to my uncle, cousins, and especially to her only granddaughter.

Death is such a strange part of life. The antithesis of life really, and also a great reason to savor every moment of life. We never know how many or how few moments we might have with our loved ones, so we’ve got to make every one count. In the case of a death within our inner circle of family or friends, we are forced to figure out a way to talk with children about this challenging topic.

In an ideal world, I would like to think that we can talk about death in the same straightforward way we talk about all sorts of things with our kids. But for most of us, death can bring up such dark and scary feelings that we have a tendency to tiptoe around it or offer confusing stories and explanations based on our spiritual beliefs.

I’ve decided not to wait until someone close to us dies to talk with my daughter about death. Instead, I use every opportunity to discuss death and dying and I try my best to be real and honest about it. Lately she’s been really into dinosaurs, which has led to a lot of conversation about death and extinction.

When we go to the High Desert Museum she’s fascinated with the stuffed displays and often asks, “Is it real or dead?” I usually ask her to tell me what she thinks. Death is a difficult concept for children to understand. The finality of it is elusive, the sadness adults experience around death is baffling, and because young kids are still working on forming their primary attachments, many of them have not yet experienced the pain of loss. And that’s OK. Personally, I’d like to put that experience off for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, it’s not up to us to decide when or how tragedy might strike. And if we’ve never even broached the subject of death with our children before, it can be even more difficult to initiate the conversation when we’re mourning.

I recommend introducing the concepts of death and dying in casual conversation and then waiting to see if your child has follow-up questions. The more centered and grounded we can be as we talk about death, the better, but if you find yourself feeling emotional as you talk with your child, just share your feelings honestly. “I’m feeling sad right now because I miss Grandma.”

One thing to watch out for when talking with children about death is the sleeping metaphor. Children take things very literally and don’t understand metaphor, so telling a young child that, “Spot is sleeping and won’t wake up anymore” can be terrifying for them. I’ve heard stories of children fighting sleep and waking with nightmares, because they’re fearful that they might never wake up. It’s better to avoid any connection between sleep and death until children are around 10-12 years old.

Personally, I also avoid talking about “heaven” or other spiritual aspects of death until children are curious or ask direct questions like, “What happens to us after we die?” And then I try to offer as unbiased an explanation as possible. “Well, our bodies rot away and nobody knows for sure what happens to the rest of us. Some people think we go to a place called ‘heaven’, what do you think?”

If a child directly asks me what I believe, I’m happy to share my thoughts and beliefs, but I would rather encourage them to come up with their own ideas about what might happen after our bodies die. If we wait until children initiate these deeper conversations about death, they often won’t happen until children are around 8-10 years old and for some, as late as the teen years.

I do think it’s best to decide with your partner how the two of you want to approach this topic with your children. Whether you agree on an afterlife or not, when you’re on the same page and give similar answers to your child’s questions, your kids will feel reassured that his parents have given the same information on the subject. On the other hand, if you introduce the concept of a soul and heaven and your husband is an atheist, you might have more explaining to do than you bargained for. Then again, what a great opportunity to discuss your own beliefs further!

So, I’m curious, have you talked with your child or children about death yet? What did you say? How did they respond? Is there anything I forgot to mention that you’d like to share with the other parents here?

I hope you’re having a nice week. Warm hugs, Shelly

More resources including a list of picture books about death: http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/001909.htm

Whispering Magic

Thinking back to all the times when I was in a classroom or a house full of kids who were all running around and screaming their little heads off I suddenly remembered the one thing that turned yelling into quiet voices. I whispered.

Now you might think that whispering in a room full of screaming kids wouldn’t have much impact, but I’ve found that screaming is the thing that makes the least impact. The kids just thought I was playing along with their game and continued to scream unless I really lost it, which I later felt bad about.

Instead, I did the opposite and got an almost immediate response. First I thought of a secret to tell. Then I went over to the loudest child and tapped her on the shoulder cupping my hands around my mouth as if I were about to whisper. Then I whispered the secret to her. Usually my secret had something to do with a delicious snack waiting for them in the other room or a really fun game or activity I had planned, but inevitably, the whisper was the thing that made the biggest difference.

My daughter has stopped nursing herself to sleep when she’s going to bed at night and instead prefers to cuddle to sleep. But if she’s really squirming and unsettled I simply begin to whisper a story to her and she’s often asleep within minutes. Sometimes she’ll whisper parts of the story back to me, but she ALWAYS stills her body and listens intently. It really doesn’t matter what the story is about, it can even be gibberish, the important thing is that the message I’m sending with my whispering is that it’s time to relax and rest now. And the message comes across loud and clear…or quiet and clear in this case. ?

I’ve even used whispering to stop a child from screeching wildly when she didn’t get what she wanted. Sure there are times when it’s important to allow a child to fully express her upset, but this particular child was using the screeching as a way to get my attention. So I gave her my attention, but I changed the rules of the game. Whenever she screeched, I would walk up to her, whisper in her ear, and then if the screeching continued, I would walk away. She almost always followed behind me whispering about the topic of choice. Because it wasn’t screaming that she most needed in that moment, it was my full attention.

I know it can be difficult to remember this when you’re in a room full of people who are yelling to be heard, but sometimes going against the grain and doing the opposite of what the crowd is doing is the perfect way to shift the dynamic.

My husband and I even use this technique when we’re dining in a very loud restaurant. If I can’t hear him, I just slide into the booth on his side of the table and we snuggle up and talk quietly to one another. Often, the noise level in the whole restaurant will go down. I’m not really sure why it works, but I’m sure glad it does!

So the next time you’re in a room full of loudness, try whispering and see what happens. I would love to hear how it goes. Please share your story with me in the comment box below.

And have a fantastic week, Shelly

Mother worry

This week I discovered why every client I’ve ever had cries when I tell her she’s a good mother. There’s something about motherhood that taps into a deep-seated fear that we are not good enough. The truth is, everyone reading this blog right now is a caring and involved parent, so why is it that we all think we might be doing something wrong?

There’s something about our culture, and I’m guessing it has to do with media, that perpetuates the idea that there must be something wrong. But is there really? Maybe the very idea that there’s something wrong is the problem.  What if we could all see ourselves as the wonderful parents we really are – even in the moment when the pediatrician tells us our child is not developing properly, or in the moment when our friends don’t like the way we discipline, or how about when we read a scary article online about the dangers of modern life.

I once heard a description of motherhood that it was like having your heart walking around outside of your body. Now I finally understand what they meant. My own anxiety about being a good mom has surfaced this week through several disturbing dreams. Continue reading “Mother worry”

Guest Blog: “Vacationing” family style

happy family portrait having funThis week’s guest blog is by Mindy:

After I had my first baby my neighbor told me that I can no longer call it “going on vacation” if kids are involved, and that she refers to it as traveling or taking a trip.  It took me a couple years and many attempts at vacationing with kids to fully grasp what she meant.

A vacation implies a break, and traveling with young kids, especially more than one, is anything but that.  In fact, in nearly every way it is more difficult, more work, and more exhausting than staying home .  Labeling the trip as a vacation is really just setting yourself up for disappointment as it seems even more painful to be up in the middle of the night with a crying baby or time-zone-wacked toddler when you’re paying $200 a night for the “experience” in lodging alone.

Here are some things that have helped add a little vacation to our trips:

Travel with extended family

Of course, this only works if you have family you like enough to be around AND they are good with your kids.  But if you really think about it, you probably have at least someone who qualifies.  Maybe a niece who likes kids and would love a free place to stay by the beach?

BK (before kids) I never would have considered bringing my mother along for a beach vacation with my husband as it would completely cramp the intimacy and probably drive me crazy, but now she’s the only hope we have of intimacy and I’m making it an annual thing!

If you’re inviting relatives, it’s best to be clear about everyone’s expectations up front (before booking the trip) including the financial side.  If you are want help with the kids you need to make a clear request, such as “My husband and I can really use some alone time to reconnect, would you be willing to you watch the kids for two afternoons and one evening while we go out?”

Other Help

If you really can’t fathom the idea of vacationing with ANYONE you have a blood relationship with, seriously consider forking out the money to take along a babysitter or nanny.  Some people will be happy to come along and provide a certain number of childcare hours as a trade if you are paying for part or all of their trip, especially if they can bring a friend or significant other.  For us, it means we take far less vacations because they are more expensive when we’re paying for additional people, but since it’s so much more of a vacation WITH the help it’s worth it.

The holy grail of help is traveling where there are other kids for your kids to play with, so if there is any way to orchestrate this by traveling with another family (and perhaps bringing and splitting the cost of a nanny) go for it! Continue reading “Guest Blog: “Vacationing” family style”

The perfection of imperfection

“Nobody’s perfect”, right?  Well, I’m not so sure.  I think there’s actually a kind of perfection in imperfection.  I tend toward the idea that there’s some sort of plan, or fate, or something that drives us all to be exactly who and how we are.  Some people call this force God, or the Universe, or even coincidence, but whatever you call it, I find it much more empowering to believe that there’s a purpose to my life and a larger force at work.

When I can rest in the perfection of my imperfection it’s much easier to reflect on the things I’ve done that I wish I’d done differently and I can somehow recognize that without making that “mistake” I might never have learned the important lesson in front of me.

The same goes for parenting.  It’s easy to fall into the trap of trying to be the “perfect parent” (as if such a thing ever existed), but the funny thing is that the more we try to mold ourselves into our ideas of what the perfect parent should be like, the less we can relax and be our authentic selves.  And really, don’t we most want to teach our kids to love themselves, be comfortable in their own skin, and know that their best is good enough?!  If so, then we’ve got to learn to be easier on ourselves, to celebrate our triumphs and admit to our mistakes without beating ourselves up.

Consider the past week or so, is there something you’ve said or done that you regret?  And can you see the opportunity for learning and growth that’s available through that experience?

I can remember when I first learned about the negative effects of result-oriented praise and the benefits of effort-based praise.  I was so hard on myself!  I thought about all the hundreds of times I had said to my preschool students, “Wow what a pretty picture” or “Nice space ship!” when I could have said, “It looks like you worked really hard on that!” or even asked, “What was the most fun part of painting that?”  I can remember crying and desperately wishing I could go back in time so that I could have said something different to the kids in my class.  I was taking responsibility for damaging those kids and their self-esteem, when in reality, they probably understood on some level that I cared more about them and their effort than I did about the finished product.

The point is that I did the best I could with the information I had at the time!  Now that I have even more information about what helps kids be motivated and engaged in learning and exploration, I can foster those qualities even more skillfully, but there’s no need to berate myself for the past.  In fact, if I hadn’t had those experiences with the kids in my class, who knows if I even would have found the crucial research that inspired me to change the way I talk to kids?

I know it’s even more profoundly difficult to separate your actions as a parent from their potential impact on your child, but please remember that the mere fact that you care enough to examine your behavior, to consider the way you talk to your kids, and the recognition that you DO have an impact on your children are all signs that you’re already an exemplary parent.  So, remember to take it easy on yourself this week.  Remind yourself that we’re all doing the best we can with what we have.  And discover the beautiful lessons you can learn from your “imperfect” moments.

Have a wonderful week, Shelly