The Aftermath
Nothing is certain in life except death, taxes, and kids not wanting to brush their teeth
In many ways, yesterday was like every other weekday morning in my house. Our kids woke up. We cajoled them into brushing their teeth and getting dressed. My husband introduced our preschooler to the concept of dipping graham crackers in milk and now he’s obsessed. The toddler wanted to join in the fun, too, and they shared a little bowl of milk that ended up spilling everywhere. We laughed.
But, obviously, yesterday was not like every other morning. My kids are too young to understand the ramifications of a presidential election and if I’m being honest, I feel grateful for that (and sorrow and empathy for other parents who are having incredibly difficult conversations with their children).
We took our kids to daycare and then I cancelled all my meetings to wallow, to grieve. I doom scrolled. I made cookies. I did laundry. I cried. A lot. I watched Woman of the Hour to distract myself - and also because a movie about how women deal with the harm men inflict upon us was just the right vibe for the day. I took a long nap. I felt pathetic and guilty for being able take personal time like this, then I reprimanded myself about how that guilt didn’t make me more righteous. Then I reprimanded myself again for judging my feelings. I tried to give myself permission to feel whatever I wanted to feel.
I’m not going to pretend that I have anything incredibly wise or thoughtful to say. I’m still processing the heartbreak of losing a version of this world I wanted so badly to exist.
But I could only wallow for so long. My kids came home, and they needed my care. No matter what else is going on - in my head, in the world - I have to take care of my kids. It’s the absolute best and worst thing about being a parent. There are days it can feel suffocating. Yesterday, it was a gift.
Even if you’re not a parent, there are people you give care to. We are all caregivers. It is one of my core beliefs that caring for others is always worth the heartache and pain of being alive. Indeed, caring for others and being cared for helps us stay resilient against life’s stressors. This is easier to remember some days than others.
Even children as young as two years old show behaviors motivated by the desire to relieve suffering. If I want my children to grow up prioritizing caring for others, the best thing I can do is offer opportunities for what psychologists refer to as “observational learning” - in other words, model the behavior that I want my children to learn. This is better than explicitly rewarding young children for showing such behavior, which in fact can backfire and reduce the likelihood of children making prosocial choices.
Apparently, caring for others comes naturally, but outside forces can convince us that it’s only important insofar as it directly benefits ourselves.
Yesterday probably felt like a good-to-great day for my kids. My preschooler loves when both my husband and I walk them to daycare and pick them up, which we did. He also got to put on his shiny light-up vest with colors “like a rainbow” and help walk his little sister back home (and she was thrilled). They had a leaf hunt at school and he proudly showed me the bag of different leaves he had chosen with care and consideration to take home.
And I feel so grateful that they got to have a day like that.
Today I’m still sad, but I don’t want to wallow anymore. I worked. I went for a run. I called a friend.
I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Maybe my sadness will turn into anger, or hope, or momentary indifference. Maybe I’ll donate more money to an organization I care about, or sign up for that volunteer opportunity that I have starred in my inbox. Maybe I'll be better at accepting the uncertainty of the future. Maybe I will bring the best version of myself to my friends, family, coworkers, and clients. Maybe I'll feel convinced of my ability to create a more just and caring world. Maybe I won’t.
Regardless, tomorrow will come. My kids will still need to brush their teeth and get dressed. The dog will need to be walked. The cat will need to be fed. Graham crackers will likely be dipped in milk. And we’ll keep going. What other choice do we have?