So, a second wave and another lockdown, huh? Who would’ve thought… but here we are.
If during the first lockdown there was a general atmosphere of “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade” — making the most of the time with the kids at home, endless recipes for homemade butter and clothes sewn from curtains (yes, yes, I wrote about it too, back in March) — this time it feels completely different. There’s heaviness. Despair. Many people have lost their jobs or are at the very least facing huge uncertainty about their future — both financially and health-wise.
And here we are again — Zoom, remote learning, the holidays celebrated in the smallest possible forum, and the looming sense that nothing guarantees there won’t be a third lockdown, and that we won’t find ourselves in this same place all over again.
Fun, right? You’re glad you came to read this… I promise, it gets better. Just a little more patience.
Lately, I’ve been preoccupied with one question:
“Why is it so hard for us to be home with the kids?”
I want to take a moment to really hold onto this question — not to settle for the obvious answers (and there are many of those) that I believe are relevant to all of us at some point during the day:
- • It’s incredibly intense, and we have no time to ourselves.
- • Those of us who are working (from home or outside) also need to manage distance learning at the same time. Some of us have even lost our home workspace during school hours, along with the tools to get things done.
- • The loss of routine — for us and for the kids — and the uncertainty of how long we’ll be stuck in this situation.
- • The constant worry about health.
These are the four that immediately come to mind.
But when I keep thinking about it, I try to channel that curious three-year-old who loves to ask “Why?” about everything she’s told or hears.
“But why?” Why is it really like this? These answers feel like the tip of the iceberg. Surely there’s more beneath the surface. And maybe if I keep asking, I’ll understand better, and that might make it easier. And maybe I’ll even question the automatic answers I came up with and try to change something so it could be different.
This deep-dive led me to some more complex understandings — and I’ve decided to share them with you, hoping they might offer some relief not just for me. Each of these realizations led to more questions, which I’ll also share — maybe they’ll help in some way:
So… why is it so hard to be home with the kids?
1. Kids are little mirrors of us
They tend to reflect our own traits back at us — even the ones we don’t particularly like about ourselves. And conversely, they sometimes don’t pick up the traits we were hoping they’d inherit.
Don’t get discouraged — sometimes it aligns beautifully. If you look closely, you’ll see they also have some of your better qualities, and others they didn’t get from you at all (and thank goodness!). These kids are complex beings — not all good or bad.
But often, it feels like they aim their most unbearable traits directly at us. As if they know it drives us crazy and push those buttons on purpose. Sometimes it’s tiny little things… but they can feel impossible to deal with.
The important (and hard) thing to remember: usually, it’s not about you — it’s just how they are. You might have a super messy, scattered child — while you’re hyper-organized and strict. Or a quiet, introverted child who prefers one close friend — while you’re the social butterfly still in touch with everyone from high school. It’s easy to get drawn into resentment and tit-for-tat over these differences.
Most of the conflicts I witness as a therapist between teens and their parents center around this exact issue — similarities and differences. It’s painful to be confronted by a trait in your child that you were hoping they wouldn’t inherit. It’s like a boomerang — sharp and personal.
It’s also easier to get angry at your kids than at yourself. We’re all a bit prone to projection — and that’s normal. It helps us protect ourselves.
I suggest pausing at the end of the day — not when you’re angry or triggered — and asking yourself:
“Behind that unbearable behavior I saw today in my child… is there a trait I recognize in myself? If so, what is it? And how do I usually deal with that trait (besides pretending it doesn’t exist)?”
Which brings us to the next answer:
2. Needs that feel demanding or aggressive
It’s hard to handle behaviors we interpret as negative or ungrateful: whining, boredom, complaining about everything. This isn’t what we taught them, right?
Kids of all ages express what they feel — through behavior. (Yes, even withdrawal or wanting to disappear is a behavior. And we should pay attention to it, especially if it seems unusual.)
They’re often unaware of the emotion or need behind their actions. One of our key roles is to help them connect emotion, experience, and behavior — so they become more self-aware and can express their needs in healthier ways over time.
That sounds great in theory — but often?
It just… doesn’t happen.
A tired or hungry child (or teen) might act out with impatience or aggression. Sound familiar? It gets more complicated when the need is emotional or abstract — like seeking validation, comfort, or attention.
And now, with the kids home all the time and no clue how long it will last, none of their external needs are being met — like: • social belonging • intellectual stimulation • structured learning • dealing with authority • developing personal skills through classes or group activities
No matter how hard we try to create routine and warmth — this period is marked by disruption, disconnection, and massive uncertainty. The kids feel it. They react — with more anger, more complaining, more fighting with siblings, more tears over things that seem small to us.
We can’t pretend everything is normal. Because nothing is. And we can’t meet all their needs or make up for everything that’s missing. We’re not teachers, not entertainers, not their classmates. We’re just their parents — and we can only give what we reasonably can.
It’s worth pausing to ask ourselves: What really matters to us right now? What are the non-negotiables? What can we drop for now?
To help with this endless wave of demands, aggression, and criticism — I proudly present…
The Restart Button!
You might be surprised to hear: you already have this button. It lets you reset the situation and start again.
You can encourage your child to rephrase, to reconsider how they speak, how they treat their siblings. You can gently reflect their needs or suggest your own guesses at what’s behind the behavior. Do it calmly, not to shame them: “Can I offer you a snack? Want to sit with me and talk?” Not: “You’re obviously hungry and THAT’S why you’re being so annoying!”
The Restart Button doesn’t ignore boundaries. It reminds your child that you’re human too — with limits, emotions, and principles.
But it also says: “I see your struggle. I’m here to help, as best I can.”
Try experimenting with your voice, too. Can you speak a little softer? A little calmer? Tiny changes like that can completely shift the home’s atmosphere.
Yes, it’s exhausting. And yes, sometimes you just want to scream at everyone to go to their rooms and leave you alone.
But in those moments, try asking: “What’s really going on here?” “What’s missing that would make this easier for everyone?”
You don’t have to entertain your kids 24/7. This situation will have frustrating moments — even days. And that’s okay. Frustration is necessary for growth.
It teaches kids how to manage discomfort and find their own solutions. And it reminds us that we don’t have to create harmony and perfect parenting in every single moment.
3. Let’s just say it: not everything our kids enjoy… interests us
Ever heard of the game “Dreams”? A card game — beautiful illustrations and a million rules.
I can’t stand it.
There. I said it. I can’t stand it and I can’t ever remember all the rules. It’s too much for me and honestly, it bores me. But my kids? Obsessed. They play it every chance they get. So then comes that rare moment where I finally have a bit of free time, and I say — even while regretting it — “Okay, let’s play something! Pick a game.” And guess what they choose. Yeah. That one. It was disheartening for all of us and led to more than one argument — after all, I said to pick, right?
Eventually, I had to admit something — to myself and to them: this is our time, and before I’m a mom, I’m actually a human being with preferences and desires. And although I try my best to accommodate their needs and wants whenever I can… this game? For me, it’s more of a nightmare than a dream.
That’s where my boundary lies. I don’t play it. The same goes for certain books, or other activities. It’s so easy to fall into self-blame — “Why couldn’t I just push through and be 100% present for the kids?” And now, even more so, since they’re home all the time and there’s no one else to turn to! But the flip side of that statement is: “I’m doing my best to meet my kids’ needs and interests — but not at any cost. If I play a game I hate, it shows. And the whole experience is diminished.” That’s totally okay. There are always other options.
It also sets a good example for the kids: It teaches them to recognize their own likes and dislikes, to be mindful of others’ boundaries, and to be flexible. Yes, yes — I could try being more flexible and maybe learn to love the game. Or maybe not 😊 But I do try. And I’m okay admitting when it’s not working.
We can also choose to be happy that our kids are developing interests different from ours — that’s not a bad thing at all. You can support them in growing those hobbies and interests without being an active participant.
Here are some questions you can ask yourself: • “Did I do my best to meet them halfway, considering the emotional resources I had at the time (attention, energy, patience, willingness)?” • If not: “What could help me be more present and genuine next time?” • And a deeper one: “How does it feel to realize my kids and I don’t always enjoy the same things or see the world the same way?” And if I had to guess — in many cases, that question leads us right into the next topic…
4. The one we’ve all been waiting for — the queen of reasons why it’s hard to be home with kids 24/7: Guilt
As I write the word “guilt,” my 4.5-year-old walks up to me and says, “Mommy, you’ve been on the computer for half a day already. When are you coming to be with me?” So I let her type the rest of this post and she was happy.
(Joking. I took a break and came back later. Be kind!)
There’s no nice way to put it: guilt is one of the most corrosive emotions — and not just in parenting. But now, with the kids home constantly, it rears its head in full glory.
Like any emotion, we need to give it space and acknowledge it — but just as importantly, we need to find the volume dial and ask: • When does it take over? • When does it become the driving force behind everything we do — or worse, the thing that paralyzes us? • What fuels it? What’s its “fertilizer”?
Chances are, all the previous points in this post feed right into it — creating one big, overwhelming soup of ugh. Totally understandable. But it’s worth examining guilt more closely to break it down a bit.
One reminder I like to tell myself in these situations: “You can’t keep wearing your ‘mom hat’ if your head can’t breathe sometimes.”
We’re still whole people. We have other “hats” we wear in life, even if we don’t get to wear them as often right now.
It’s hard to be with the kids all the time because it’s draining — and it constantly reminds us of the kind of parent we wish we could be in a perfect world… …what we wish we could give them… but haven’t had the chance.
On top of that — this period brings up a lot of challenges (for them and for us). Some of them are old, resurfacing now that there’s no routine to push them aside. And that alone can bring up tension, anxiety — and yes, guilt. We’re suddenly witnessing every single behavior up close. It’s all in our face — stuff that might require support or professional help.
To help ease the guilt a little — here are some helpful questions: • “What’s my safe haven?” • “What fills me up?” • “How can I bring more of that into my day, even within the limits of the current situation?” • “What are my sources of strength?” • “Who can I talk to now that would lift me up?” • “What will help me remember that all this is temporary?”
When the self-criticism gets too loud, and you’re flooded by all the things you didn’t do today — try asking: • “What did I manage to do today?” • “What can I change moving forward to feel less guilt?” • “What am I most unhappy about?” • “Who can I ask for help with this specific issue?” • And just simply:
“What can I do?”
That last question is simple — but powerful. It works for many situations. Personally, I find it helps to make a list of possible actions — even far-fetched ones. Even if I don’t follow through with them, just knowing I have options gives me a sense of control, ability, and hope. (I promise to write a future post full of “easy things to do now — alone or with the kids.”)
I hope this helped even a little. Just a reminder: in situations like this, feelings of loneliness, helplessness, and inadequacy can be very real and very strong. The heaviness may feel personal — but you’re not alone in it. These are common feelings, shared by people around the world — not just in parenting, and not just in this country. This is all part of a normal reaction to a very abnormal situation.
Try to be kind — first and foremost to yourself, and also to those around you, especially your kids. Their intentions are good, too. They’re trying their best — truly.
But if it all feels too big, too overwhelming, unfamiliar or scary, or it’s affecting your functioning in a harmful way — Please don’t stay silent. Reach out. Share how you feel with someone close. Or turn to a professional. You deserve support.
Sending strength your way. Take care of yourself — and here’s to easier, brighter days ahead.
