The Messages We Send

If you are a worrier (like me) and your child is going to a new school next year, there are probably a number of thoughts circling around your mind right now. Will they make friends? Will they like their teacher? Will they be challenged? Will they be overwhelmed? The list - if you are a truly gifted worrier like myself - can be endless.

While there are hundreds of things to worry about before a transition happens, 95% of those things are  outside of our locus of control as parents. Truly. We can't see into the future and fix problems before they occur - but we can support children in the time when we are all waiting, waiting, waiting for school to start. Again, I don't know about you, but I need a positive place to direct my energy in the meantime, or my anxiety will rise - quickly. An activity that has supported me in the past during a big change in our family's life is crafting parenting messages.

Parenting messages are thoughts or ideas that I want to convey to my daughter (explicitly or implicitly) around an issue or a change coming up in our family - like changing to a new school. While I think this strategy can work in a variety of ways to support families, I find that I need to do three things to make it work for our family.

(1) Before Lily started Kindergarten, I wrote down what I wanted her to take away from this big change - what were the positive messages I wanted to send to her while supporting her in her worry and anxiety about changing from the school she had been in since she was 18 months old. I find that physically writing them down - instead of turning them over and over inside my head - help me to craft them more specifically and thoughtfully. But also, in the end, I have a list to refer to when I am feeling like I need to re-center myself - or *I* start to feel anxious around changes occurring in our family.

(2) Next, I listen. Sometimes - just sometimes - the worries we have for our children are not the worries that they have for themselves in a transition. I want to make sure that the messages I am creating support her in her feelings about change - rather than what my concerns are for her in her big transition.

Before Kindergarten, Lily and I had few heart-to-heart talks, and she expressed concern that she wouldn't see her friends or her teachers any more once she left her preschool. She also talked about not knowing anyone at her new school and not knowing what was going to happen there. She also worried that it would be too hard and the teacher would be upset with her for not knowing how to read already. Oh.

So, I started to create messages for what I hope her to take away from this experience of starting a new school - with her anxieties and needs in mind.  Here is where I started:

--We can always figure out ways to stay in touch with people who are important to us. 

--I  (Lily) am capable of change and my family will always be there to help me. 

--Change happens in my life and everyone else's life too. Everyone has different thoughts or worries when they try something, or go somewhere new. Everyone in your new class will have their own thoughts about starting Kindergarten and making new friends. 

--I (Lily) have made new friends before - and I can do it again. 

--School is for everyone. The teacher and your family will help you if things are too hard. 

The messages I created focused on normalization (change happens to everyone); support (grown-ups are here to help you when you are unsure); and competency (you are capable of managing this change). A good start, but then I gave a little thought to what I didn't want her to take away from this change in her life. Messages that I didn't want to send to her accidentally through our actions or our words, like:

--When I make friends somewhere, I can be moved away from them and never see them again. I wanted to give Lily a sense of control over seeing (or being in contact) with her friends and teachers - and so we talked about strategies she could employ when she missed her preschool. We listed ways of keeping in touch like writing a letter, scheduling play dates, and visiting her school in the fall - and supported her in following through with those ideas.

--Change is scary. So, deep down, this is something that can be true for me. I know this about myself, and I work hard on seeing change from other perspectives - like being exciting, exhilarating, or bringing new amazing people and experiences into one's world. I wanted to make sure my own anxieties about change didn't filter too much into Lily's world. I didn't want her to think, "Well, *MOM* is worried about this - so I definitely need to be!" I wanted to give her a sense of wonder and enthusiasm about change - on top of having a safe place to go when she was feeling anxious. I knew that to do this, I needed to keep my own "worry brain" in check and find good outlets for it (like tea with a friend, or a date night with my partner).

--Change is something that is outside my control and something I have to manage without help. While I was "forcing" Lily to go to Kindergarten, I wanted to make sure that Lily knew that her family would be there for her during this change and that we could work together on any problem that came up. I also wanted her to know that I would be open to her ideas about managing the change - like wearing her favorite princess costume on the first day of school. While that wasn't what I wanted her to wear (in part due to the large HOLE in the back), she said it would make her feel "like home" to wear it. Done.

She changed her mind, however, when we gave her a locket that had pictures of our family in it to wear on the first day of school. I swear I would have let her wear the holey dress though.

While supporting Lily in moving forward was important to me,  I also wanted to give her space to process the loss of her preschool. While some may feel this is an overstatement, I believe that moving schools is a loss for a child. They don't get to see their teachers every day; they don't have that cool block corner anymore; they don't get to make silly noises with their pal at snack anymore. It is a loss of daily routines, daily friendships, and their world as they know it. It is not a small change - and it is one that needs support and understanding from the grownups in their world. I wanted my actions to reflect that we were available to her to listen to her sadness, her anger, her worry. I didn't want our family to dismiss her concerns - I wanted us to be able to listen to them with empathy and understanding. 

(3) As a final step, I brainstormed how to send these messages in a way that wasn't overkill. Questions I asked were: What are the subtle ways we can include these messages in our summer plans? What books can we read to reinforce these messages? What family stories can we tell that support our successes with change? What space can we make to talk about this change in our busy lives? How do we support the processing of the loss of her preschool, while nurturing excitement about her next big step to Kindergarten? 

All of this is definitely tricky - and I feel like one (meaning, me) could definitely over do it - which may cause some children (read: mine) to shut down and not want to talk about it at all. Mostly, however, the list was there for me to read (and re-read) and support my day-to-day parenting. 


So, I don't mean to spoil the ending, but - she made it! Lily transitioned successfully to Kindergarten, and your kiddo will too. It will all pass by so quickly, but one of the things I am thankful for is that now I can reference that transition to Kindergarten in talking with Lily about other changes in her life. I get to use that story as a way of showing her past competence - illustrating her capacity to make it through something that is hard. I can reflect back with her about how nervous she was and about how, in the end,  Kindergarten was a wonderful experience filled with new teachers, new friends, new songs, and beautiful, glorious change. 

And you will too.