Being Only As Happy As Your Least Happy Child is Killing You Both.

How many times have you heard (or said), “You’re only as happy as your least happy child”? Wink, wink, nod, nod. Its code for ‘My kid is miserable, and so am I.’

I spent a good part of my parenting years going down into the pit with my children. Our family has had more than its share of challenges. And even though my children are adults now, there is no shortage of things that I worry about, some serious, others not so much.

The truth is that I’m a champion worrier and I’m sick of it. It’s exhausting — mentally and physically. Something has to give because I don’t want to live like this anymore. (There is one positive from this: it’s one reason I have compassion for the parents I work with, and they are able to be vulnerable with me.)

There are too many of us out there. This way of living is slowly killing us and our kids.

We worry and then hope things will get better. We build up our hope and are let down. Build up, let down, build up, let down. It really is insanity.

There is something going on with one of my kids that is extremely distressing for me. I can’t share it, it’s not my story to tell. What is mine to tell is how I’m reacting and responding to it.