Written by Brogan Rossi
Here’s the thing about building an emotionally friendly home with three kids under six: emotions are happening whether I invited them or not.
Honestly, they’re happening at a volume that could register on the Richter scale. I don’t get to decide if this house will be filled with feeling, it already is. My job is more like air-traffic control for tiny emotional tornadoes.
And here’s the kicker: the most important piece isn’t their emotions, it’s mine. How I manage my overstimulation, my burnout, my desire to crawl under the bed when one child is sobbing because their orange is too orange (yes that actually happened).
Because little kids? They need someone to hold space for the meltdowns, the fears, the excitements, the disappointments, the toast that is too toasty. They need a safe place to feel it all. Which often means we are absorbing it all. And if you’re not careful, next thing you know you’re crying right alongside your toddler because the toast really is too crispy and life is just too much.
So, here’s what I’ve learned (in no particular order, and usually the hard way):
The Parent Bubble
Think of yourself like a bubble. Their emotions come in, you let them bounce around, but you don’t let them pop you. If you absorb everything; three meltdowns, two sibling fights, and a dog who’s barking just because.. it’s game over.
Let Them See You Feel
A lot of us grew up never seeing our parents cry, admit they were sad, or even say they were exhausted. Bless them, they did what they knew. But the unspoken lesson was: “parenting means holding it together at all times.” Now here I am, an adult realizing… oh, wow. I have real feelings. And I want my kids to know I’m human too.
That means I say out loud: “I feel sad right now.” Or, “I made a mistake and I feel frustrated.” It doesn’t mean I unload on them. But it does mean they see me as a person who feels, not a robot who magically absorbs everyone’s emotions without flinching.
Timing Is Everything
Newsflash: the moment your three-year-old is screaming about toast is not the time for a TED Talk about emotional regulation. In those moments, my only goal is survival. Calm things down, get shoes on, get out the door. The bigger conversations about feelings? Those happen later, when we’re not all on the verge of a breakdown.
Build a Shared Language
One of the best gifts we can give our kids is vocabulary. Teaching them to say “I feel disappointed” instead of “THIS TOAST RUINED MY LIFE” is life-changing. (For both of us.) Some days we ask “what’s one funny thing that happened today,” other days it’s “what’s one hard thing that happened today.” It doesn’t matter how it looks, it just matters that they learn how to notice, name, and share what’s going on inside them.
Make Space for All the Feelings
It’s so tempting to just ask, “Did you have a fun day?” But I want my kids to know it’s safe to say, “Actually, I felt nervous at school,” or, “I was angry when my friend didn’t play with me.” Fun is great, but an emotionally friendly home means anger, sadness, boredom, and worry get a seat at the table too. Not everything needs fixing. Sometimes I just listen and say, “Yeah, that sounds really hard.”
Humor Is a Coping Strategy
Some days, the only thing standing between me and my own meltdown is laughing at the absurdity of it all. Because let’s be honest, if you can’t laugh when three kids are crying at the exact same time, you’ll cry too. And honestly? Sometimes both happen, and that’s fine.
The Bottom Line
Our house is not zen. It’s not quiet. It’s not perfect. But if my kids grow up knowing that every single one of their feelings has a place to land, and that their parents have feelings too, then maybe that’s the most emotionally friendly home environment I can give them.
And if all else fails, I just try not to burn the toast.
