“You’re mean! You don’t care that you’re ruining my life! I don’t wanna move!” This is my eight year old daughter’s common refrain these days. Sigh. I don’t blame her for her intense feelings (though it wouldn’t hurt MY feelings if she could express them just a little differently!).  Transitions are hard, and moving is right up there with life’s top stressful events. Especially moving two states away. I know from first-hand experience.  As a kid, I went to six elementary schools in six years, plus I had to go between two divorced parents’ houses. My inner child wants to convince my daughter that SHE doesn’t have it so bad because at least HER parents are happily married. Thankfully, the adult in me knows better than to do that.

Instead, I do what I wish MY parents would’ve done with ME. I attempt to validate her feelings. I say things like, “This is hard for you. You really wish it were different and that we were staying here.” She retorts, “Stop it! I don’t want to hear that! Don’t tell me how I feel!” Okay….so the direct approach isn’t working. Perhaps the indirect approach will. I surreptiously (or so I think) search Amazon for children’s books on moving. My daughter sees me about to order a few and says, “Those might make YOU feel better, but they won’t work for me. I don’t want them.” Another sigh.

My next thought is to look at how to provide stability for her now, even in the midst of getting ready to move. So, my husband and I make a pact NOT to discuss the move in front of her, especially when it comes to major uncertainties like what house we’ll be renting, in what school district, etc. This seems to help calm things around the Bierdeman home. A little. Except for I notice that she seems anxious and angry about the smallest things. Like her sister wanting to read one of her books. Or her dad asking if her is she wants him to read to her. “NO!” is her standard response, followed by tears. This isn’t always the case; there are plenty of times when she is happily playing, reading, riding her bike. But always, there is an undercurrent of sadness and anger in this sweet girl. And it is sometimes gut-wrenching.

From a professional distance, I know that her temperament plays a big part in her reaction. She is slow to warm to new people and to transitions. She is intense emotionally and energetically. Her mood is often unpredictable. This little girl is the most amazing human being–so creative, so loving, so bright, so fiery, so passionate, so sensitive . She is not an easy child to parent–and I attribute a lot of that to my being wired similarly to her.  But I am not parenting from a professional standpoint. I am parenting with my heart, and it’s aching for my child. Not in a way that makes me unable to function. No, this is one of those very primal aches that mothers everywhere get when they know they can’t “fix it” for their child because there are just some things that are life lessons.

Ouch.

My plan, which is really more of a set of intentions than anything else, is to remain aware of my daughter’s feelings and to be present to her throughout them. I’ll continue to set healthy limits and to provide as much structure as possible, knowing that this process is still stressful for her and for all of us. I’ll be aware of my tendency to want her sad and angry feelings to go away so I can feel like a better mom. Isn’t a (reasonably) healthy family the perfect place to practice how to navigate life’s changes? I think so.

And this too shall pass.