Written by Brogan Rossi
If parenting has taught me anything (besides the fact that I will literally never be on time again… sorry not sorry), it’s that when it comes to teaching kids about emotions, it’s never too soon.
I have three kids—ages 1, 3, and 5—and let me tell you, the emotional rollercoaster is very, very real. If you’ve ever witnessed a toddler go full meltdown because their banana broke in half (seriously, why are bananas the bane of our existence as parents), then you know that emotions run deep from day one.
I read somewhere that we don’t get to decide how much our kids will understand or absorb—we just have to keep teaching and let them process it in their own way. That hit home for me. It’s easy to think, “Oh, they’re too young to understand stress,” but then you watch your preschooler burst into tears over putting on the wrong sock, and you realize—oh, they feel it. They just don’t have the words for it yet. And that’s where we come in.
Narrating Feelings
Early on, I started narrating my own emotions—not just for their sake, but for mine, too. Example: My toddler is losing their mind over the aforementioned banana betrayal. My first instinct? Deep sigh. Visible frustration. Maybe a desperate look towards my husband. But instead of just reacting, I try (keyword: try) to model the kind of emotional regulation I want them to learn.
So, instead of just snapping (“It’s just a banana! Why are we like this?!”), I take a breath and say something like: “Mom is feeling really overwhelmed by the noise. I didn’t respond how I wanted to. Let me take a deep breath and try again.”
Do they suddenly stop crying and thank me for my emotional maturity? haha No. But over time, they start picking up on it. My 3-year-old now sometimes stops and says “I need a hug” and then takes deep breaths when he’s in a stressful situation, and that, my friends, is a parenting win.
Naming Feelings: The Emotion Dictionary
So much of emotional education starts with simply naming the feelings. “You’re not being bad—you’re feeling frustrated.” “It’s okay to be mad. Let’s figure out what to do with that feeling.” It’s a small shift, but it changes everything. Feelings aren’t good or bad. They just are.
When we start with curiosity instead of judgment, it changes the entire dynamic. Instead of saying, “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so upset?” we say, “I see that you’re sad. That’s really tough.” Honestly, isn’t that exactly how we’d want to be treated as adults, too? If my best friend said, “What’s wrong with you?” when I’m crying into my coffee, I’d probably throw the coffee. But if they said, “That sounds really hard,” I’d melt into a puddle of appreciation.
The Hard Part: Teaching Feelings While Managing Our Own
Here’s the kicker—teaching kids about emotions means we have to actually manage our own emotions, too. And that, my friends, is the real challenge. I can’t tell my kids to take deep breaths if I’m about to explode because no one put their shoes on and we’re already late (again).
But I try. I fail a lot. But I try again. And that’s the lesson, really. Emotions aren’t a problem to be fixed—they’re just part of being human. And the sooner our kids learn that, the better.
So, is it ever too soon to start teaching kids about emotions? Absolutely not. They’re already feeling everything—we just get the privilege (and chaos) of helping them understand it. And if that means talking through my own frustration over broken bananas, then so be it.
