I’ve come across several articles this week about phrases that should, supposedly, be stricken from a good parent’s repertoire.  The problem is, I think many of them are wrong.

It is a good thing to be thoughtful about the words and phrases we use.  It is a good thing to use language consciously.  It isn’t always a good thing to be absolute about things that may not be absolute. 

Some of the phrases on these lists are problematic because they’re born of touchy-feely psycho-babble that suggests it’s our responsibility to ensure our children’s feelings are preserved above all.  (Don’t get me wrong; I don’t believe children’s feelings are unimportant, but they are certainly not the top priority in a biblical worldview.)

Some are problematic because, although they’re born of solid, common-sense concepts, they take it to an extreme, fail to recognize the context, or assume that everyone who uses the phrase does so in the same way.  In a few cases, they actually ignore essential developmental needs.

I have a feeling this might get long, so it may turn into a series.  Let’s start with “You’re okay,” since I just saw another article devoted entirely to this phrase.

You’re Okay (Or Are You?)

The accusation here is levied against parents who tell their children “you’re okay,” when they are hurt or upset.  The claim is that by doing so, we’re brushing their needs aside and/or telling them how they feel.  If this is happening, that is certainly a  problem.  If your 8-year-old is coming to you crying and you’re heartlessly calling out, “You’re okay,” and ignoring him, that’s probably lousy parenting.  (I’m making the assumption here that the crying is genuine and not intentional manipulation.)

When we’re dealing with toddlers, though, I would argue that this is usually not what’s happening.  In fact, this instinct to tell them they’re okay is normal and good, and this is an important part of the developmental process!

It’s Not About the Feelings

See, when I tell my toddler that he’s okay, I’m not addressing his feelings at all; I’m telling him what reality is.  That I am cuddling him close and soothing it while I tell him it’s all right, that he’s okay, testifies to the fact that I am not ignoring his feelings, pretending they don’t matter, or brushing him aside.

It is a critical truth for our children to grasp that, while feelings are valid, they are not dependable.  That I am scared does not mean I’m not safe.  That I am hurt does not mean I’m injured.  That something feels like the end of the world doesn’t mean it actually is.  Acknowledging feelings, while also speaking the truth is a good approach for all of us to take, little and large alike.

How Bad is It?

Little children are also still learning how to determine the seriousness of a situation.  The above article acknowledges that they take their cues from us, but then basically suggests we shouldn’t give them any.

When a child is very small, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond.  When a tiny little guy sees and hears Mama respond in differing degrees to differing degrees of injury, he’s learning that it is okay, and appropriate, to respond in differing degrees to different situations.  When I see a situation is minor, and tell him he’s okay, I am providing him with language to describe a minor situation — even though I’m validating his hurts and fears as he’s learning.

It has not been my experience that my children are learning that “they don’t know how they feel.”  It has been my experience that my children are learning through a process first to have someone tell them they’re okay, because they honestly don’t know that, then to identify this for themselves.

My 2-year-old will often stumble.  For instance, he tripped off the end of the slide earlier this week.  His completely unprompted response was to pat his chest and say, “I’m okay, Mama. I’m okay!” He then just happily went about what he was doing.

When he actually gets hurt, he comes to me for comfort.  Most of the time, he asks to be picked up, he gets a hug, and then scrambles down, content, to return to his play.  If he’s more seriously hurt it might take some more comforting (and possibly patching up).

He is able to differentiate between, “Well, that was uncomfortable, but I’m fine,” “Wow, that hurt,” and “That really hurt!”

Don’t Assume Children Know

This crazy psychological trend of “children are little adults” loses sight of the fact that very small children do not know how to identify things like what they’re feeling or what a proportionate response might be.  They need caretakers, not only physically, but spiritually and emotionally, too.

Saying, “let your child decide how he feels” assumes he has the skills to identify his feelings and the language to express them.  Consequently, a parent thinking along those lines fails to provide these things.

It’s totally possible to tell a child, “You’re okay,” and in the same breath, “I bet that was pretty scary, though, wasn’t it?” or “…but I bet that hurt.”  (The general human ability to commiserate can clue us in to what a child is probably feeling in most toddler-level situations.)  Now he knows that he’s safe, and he has vocabulary to describe the feelings that accompanied that tumble (or whatever the case may be).

If he’s a little older, he might be ready to be asked what he’s feeling.  “Are you okay?  Are you hurt?  Or are you just scared?”  (Because I know someone is likely to jump on the fact that I said “just” scared, let me point out that I’m talking hurt + scared vs. only scared — i.e. not hurt, so there’s not a physical injury I need to attend to.) This enables him to begin putting into practice the skills and vocabulary you’ve taught him.

Eventually, you don’t even need to ask; he goes through that thought process on his own.

(Interesting side note: Montessori proponents may notice that this bears strong similarity to a 3-period lesson!)