Raising Kids While Reparenting Myself: A Lesson in Emotional Growth
Why I Put Off Teaching Her to Ride
I’m not entirely sure why teaching my youngest to ride a bike wasn’t a priority.
Maybe it’s because our neighborhood isn’t very large. Maybe it’s because she was perfectly content riding her scooter like a boss.
Or maybe—if I’m being really honest—it’s because I didn’t want to deal with the tears that were sure to come when she fell while learning.
I avoided it. I told myself it wasn’t urgent. But the truth? I didn’t trust myself to handle her disappointment with grace, or her frustration with calm, because those weren’t tools I was handed when I was little either.
The Big Feelings
Last week, she was playing with a neighbor friend who’s two years younger—and already riding a two-wheeler like a pro.
She. Was. Devastated.
She wasn’t mad at me, but she was embarrassed, frustrated, and heartbroken that she hadn’t learned yet. Her big feelings came in hot. And instead of brushing them off or rushing to fix it, I knelt down and told her:
“It’s okay to feel this way. Your emotions make sense.”
Then, we used a little magic.
I “opened” an invisible box, and she carefully placed her emotions inside. We put the box on a mental shelf, just for now, so she could go back to playing.
A New Day, A New Mindset
The next morning, she came into my room on a mission. Her face was steady. Her voice clear.
“Mom, I took the box off the shelf. I’m ready to learn.”
Cue the lump in my throat.
We pumped the tires, practiced, and took the training wheels off. Her little friend acted as a full-on hype woman, shouting encouragement and filming the whole thing. And wouldn’t you know it—my girl learned to ride in no time.
When I told her she’d needed patience and perseverance, she grinned and said,
“Mom, I didn’t even need patience!”
I laughed and told her there’s a third ‘P’—and that’s pride.
Pride in showing up.
Pride in trying something new.
Pride in doing it anyway.
Not Just a Parenting Win—A Healing One
This wasn’t just a parenting win. It was a healing one.
Managing emotions—hers and mine—has not always been my strong suit.
Growing up, big emotions weren’t really welcome.
That’s not a criticism of my parents—it’s just how things were.
Emotions weren’t something you sat with.
They were something you suppressed.
No one taught me how to ride through the emotional stuff. You just had to keep going and hope you didn’t crash.
Now, here I am, teaching my daughter not just how to ride—but how to process what’s happening inside her before she gets on the bike.
That’s what reparenting looks like.
That’s the real challenge of motherhood no one warns you about.
The Hardest Part of Parenting
I recently saw a young woman ask on TikTok:
“What’s the hardest part of parenting?”
Before becoming a mom, I might’ve guessed the birth pain.
Or the body changes.
Or the sleepless nights.
But now I know:
The hardest part is reparenting yourself while you’re trying to raise emotionally healthy kids.
It’s a total mind f*ck.
One moment, you’re teaching your child a skill.
The next, you’re reeling from how much tenderness you needed at that same age—and didn’t get.
When Their Joys Touch Our Wounds
Sometimes it’s triggered by tantrums.
Other times, it sneaks up in the most beautiful milestones.
Like seeing my daughters get to experience a fully present, loving father.
My own dad lived across the country most of my life.
So yes, it’s joyful to witness their bond—and it also stings.
Not because I resent what they have, but because it reminds me of what I didn’t.
This Is Sacred Work
These are the invisible victories we don’t talk about enough.
Every time you validate instead of dismiss…
Every time you stay present instead of shutting down…
Every time you say, “Your feelings are safe with me” instead of “stop crying”…
You’re not just raising emotionally healthy kids.
You’re healing you, too.
So if no one has told you lately—you’re doing something extraordinary.
Even when it feels messy.
Even when you’re making it up as you go.
Even when you forget the box, the shelf, or the emotional metaphor entirely.
You’re breaking cycles.
And that?
That’s sacred work.
xx,
Kelly