To the Parent with the Screaming Kid
written by Kelsey Vasquez
This past summer, I signed all three of my kids up for four weeks of swimming lessons at a public pool. As I sweated in the heat, I noticed two groups of preschoolers working on their water skills in the shallow end. One little girl approached the pool each day as though she was being asked to step into lava. There were tears. Attempts to run away. Quite a bit of screaming. Her body alternated between going limp and thrashing around. As parents, we have all had these moments. It’s hard to keep your cool - especially when it's 115 degrees out! But in this ordinary moment, one parents find themselves in often and probably would rather not, I noticed something incredible. This little girl was learning, in real time, that she could do hard things. This is the beginning of grit.
While she panicked, her mom held onto her safely. Waited for the fight to (mostly) go out of her body before sitting down on the top step and inviting her daughter to join her in just putting her feet in. She rubbed her daughter’s back and spoke softly. She pointed out what was happening in the class. She sat quietly and waited. She set a clear limit: although she wouldn’t force her daughter to participate in the class, she was expected to stay with her teacher, even if only to watch. Every single lesson, the little girl eventually joined on her own terms. She tried every activity she was asked to do and finished every class, clearly proud of her efforts. The stakes were low. She had the safety of two teachers, a very small class, and her mom nearby. The lesson was fun, engaging, and child-centered. She struggled, felt uncertain, experienced discomfort, and kept going. These small moments build capability, whether she got off the step or not. Capability isn’t built from success; it’s built from the struggle.
And here is the part that resonated most with me as a parent. It never got easier. For thirty minutes in the evening, four times a week, over four weeks, every swim class started the exact same way. Every single start was a struggle, but the expectation stayed consistent. The mom stayed steady. One day, I overheard the little girl apologizing to her mom as she was leaving. “I’m sorry I didn’t do swim today,” she said. Her mom’s reply? “You did do swim. I saw you in the pool.” No guilt. No over-the-top praise. Just a quiet observation and a powerful reframe.
That’s the thing about building capability. It never feels good during. It definitely didn’t feel good out in the heat with an audience at the pool. It might have made dinner and bedtime more challenging than usual thanks to the heightened emotions. It probably led to some stress leading up to swim class, just thinking about the inevitable struggle that was waiting.
Capability’s power is in the after - when we look back and see how far we have come. When we remind ourselves that we can handle this hard thing because we have handled the hard things that came before. The struggle is hard, but it’s also the whole point.
A million choices could have made things easier in the moment. In the other class, another little girl also cried about going in the water. Her dad swooped in and carried her back to the bleachers. She never participated. That choice might have been best for that family in that moment; I don’t share this as judgment. But I do wonder if it was a missed opportunity to experience a healthy amount of struggle in a safe environment while the stakes are still low. In many ways, this is the core of childhood. It’s the foundation of parenting too.
So the next time you are the parent with the screaming kid, I hope you’ll remember these three things: 1. To build capability in children, we must first build it in ourselves; 2. It feels hard because it is hard, not because you’re doing it wrong; and 3. You can do hard things!