A Tale of Two 4 Year Olds
My family went skiing recently, and as any parent knows, skiing with little ones is no small feat. Between the gear, the cold, and the emotional ups and downs, it’s a full-body, full-heart experience.
I spent a lot of time on the bunny hill with my 4-year-old. It’s slow-paced, full of falls and giggles, and yes—more than a few tears. And in between helping my child navigate wobbly skis and snack breaks, I got to witness a few moments from other families, too.
Two meltdowns stood out to me. Two very different children. Two very different parents. And two very different outcomes.
The First Child Wanted Dad
This little one was standing in skis, tear-streaked and sobbing:
Child: “I want Dada!”
Mom: “He’s on a chairlift.”
Child: “I want Dada!”
Mom: (sitting nearby, disengaged)
Child: “I want Dadaaa!”
Mom: (scrolls phone)
Child: (crying louder)
Dad arrives
Child: “Mom is so rude!”
Oof. This moment stuck with me.
The Second Child Wanted Waffles
Another little one had their own spiral.
Child: “I want a waffle!”
Mom: “I know you do. The waffle shop is closed today.”
Child: “Waffles!!”
Mom: (gently wipes tears, opens arms for a hug)
Child: “I’m going to eat ALL the popsicles at home!”
Mom: “All the popsicles? Oh boy!”
Child: “Yes! And no one can have any! Just me!”
Mom: “I hear you.”
Child: “Mama, carry me.”
Two kids, both dysregulated. Two moms, each likely doing her best. One had space to stay present, emotionally attuned.
Skiing With Kids Can Be Exhausting
I don’t share these stories to judge. That first mom was probably “over it.” Maybe she’d been up all night. Maybe the trip hadn’t gone as planned. Maybe she was holding more than any of us could see. I get it. We can give her grace.
And—
The child who had a present, warm, attuned response from their mother was the one who had their needs met. Not because she fixed it. Not because she had the perfect words. But because she showed up. She stayed connected in the storm.
Kids don’t need perfection. But they do need presence.
When we meet them in their dysregulation with empathy and connection, we lay the groundwork for emotional resilience. We teach them that big feelings are safe, and that they are never alone in them.
So What’s the Takeaway?
Grace for the parent who's out of capacity.
Warmth for the child who still needs to be held.
If you’ve ever been the mom on the phone, the mom tuning out, the mom holding back tears of her own—you’re not broken. You’re not failing. You’re human.
But if you want to be more of the mom with her arms open, grounded and present—you’re not alone there either. That’s what support is for. That’s what practice is for.
Our kids don’t need us to be perfect.
Just to keep trying and to meet them with love.
