What we do during our children’s difficult moments may be the most powerful tool for building lifelong emotional safety and resilience.
When my eldest son was not far off his second birthday, his family day carer quit suddenly. At the time, I was 30 weeks pregnant with my second child, with seven more weeks of work ahead of me.
To bridge the gap, a friend offered to nanny when available, bringing her three-year-old son with her. On their first day, my husband and I were in our bedroom getting ready when they knocked on the front door. Our son was in the hallway just in front of the door.
My husband opened the front door and quickly stepped back into our bedroom to finish dressing, leaving our toddler, his new nanny and her son standing in the corridor while we remained behind the closed bedroom door. Our son burst into tears and started crying hysterically.
My husband reopened the door and tried to reassure him: “It’s okay, you’re okay.” I believe the nanny said something similar. He cried louder, becoming even more distressed. Then I stepped into the doorway, looked gently at him and said softly, “That was really scary, wasn’t it?”
Almost instantly, his body began to soften. His cry slowed to a gentle sob. I gave him a cuddle. And with a little time, he was back to his usual self.
Why “fixing” doesn’t always help
It’s a moment in parenting I won’t ever forget, because it showed me so powerfully the contrast between trying to fix something and simply being with a child through a difficult emotion.
My husband and the nanny meant well; they were trying to help him feel better with reassurance and resolution. But in my son’s eyes, he wasn’t okay. While the intention of the adults was kind, it unwittingly invalidated what he was feeling, making him feel more alone and afraid at that moment.
What had happened was a confusing moment that he hadn’t fully understood. His distress was real. What he needed most was someone to acknowledge and validate that distress, and to be with him in it.
Sometimes, our kids don’t need us to fix a big emotion, distract them from it or downplay it. They need to feel an emotional presence from those they love the most. To have someone simply be with them. To hold space for the big feelings without being overwhelmed or reactive ourselves. It’s not about having the right words, but rather about being the right presence.
The potato cake incident
Another example that comes to mind happened when I’d taken my two boys for a swim. I had promised them a “snack” afterwards. In my head, I meant a potato cake, but I hadn’t said that out loud. My eldest built up an expectation that he’d get to choose his snack, maybe a cookie or some hot chips.
When I ordered three potato cakes without offering him a choice, he had a complete meltdown. Big feelings. Tears. Anger. Lying on the floor in the café.
At first, I was confused, but as I listened, I understood: He’d had a picture in his mind and when things didn’t match, the disappointment overwhelmed him. I had to remind myself he wasn’t being unreasonable and that his brain was simply flooded. He needed compassion, boundaries and presence.
I said gently, “You were really wanting to choose your own snack and it made you upset that I chose for you. I understand. That’s really hard when you’re expecting something to happen a certain way and it doesn’t. I’m sorry that Mummy wasn’t clear that when she said we would get a snack, she meant a potato cake.”
“I don’t want a potato cake. I want a cookie,” he yelled.
“I know. You really wanted a cookie. Unfortunately, we aren’t going to have a cookie today.”
As the cries escalated, I added phrases like, “I understand. You’re really disappointed,” and “You don’t have to eat the potato cake. It’s your choice. But if you change your mind, I’ll keep it here for you.”
Being present in public
While still in the café, I didn’t try to talk my son out of his feelings. I didn’t threaten or pressure. I just stayed present. Acknowledged, validated and held the boundary.
Eventually, after moving through the feelings in his own time, he joined us at the table and ate the potato cake with a smile. Being with him didn’t stop the meltdown, but it gave him a safe place to feel it fully and move through it.
To be who my son needed me to be, I also needed to put aside any concern about what others watching might be thinking of my son’s public meltdown. Surprisingly, afterwards, a grandmother with her grandson came up and congratulated me on how I’d managed the situation.
So often, we worry about how someone might be judging us negatively, though the opposite can also be true.
Ready to dive deeper into the Potato Cake Meltdown and learn how to be the anchor in your child’s storm? Catch the full episode of Mum to Mum with Doctor Tash.
Emotional presence builds safety
By being with someone in their big feelings, we acknowledge and validate their experience as real. In doing so, we become their emotional anchor. It is this presence that enables them to journey through the storm to find emotional stability again.
This also helps children learn to process feelings, rather than being afraid of them. Naming the emotion can help build emotional literacy. It helps children feel seen and safe in their experience.
I often pose it as a question or a gentle guess: “I think you’re feeling . . .” or “I wonder if you’re . . . ” as it’s important to realise that we can’t ever be entirely sure of someone else’s feelings.
With consistent practise, our children learn to do this for themselves. I started this with my son in his second year of life and I still remember when I said, “I see that you’re sad” and he (at two years old) promptly corrected me: “No Mummy. I’m mad.”
Co-regulation before self-regulation
Children aren’t born with the ability to self-regulate. That is a skill learned through co-regulation. They learn to regulate by borrowing our calm. Feeling emotionally safe helps calm the nervous system. When we practise this regularly, in the long-term, it teaches children to feel safe with their emotions, not ashamed of them.
This isn’t only true for older children. It applies just as much to infants. We all experience moments of big overwhelming emotions. We all have days where we feel like screaming or crying (even if we don’t). This applies to infants too. If all their “needs” have been met, but an infant is still upset, it may be that they are having a moment of big feelings and simply need someone else to be with them through the moment. Not to fix them or stop the tears, but instead to be able to sit as a safe place for them while they experience those feelings.
Even if we can’t name their feelings with words, our calm and gentle presence speaks volumes.
The need for self-compassion
Being with big feelings is hard. For some of us, it can be even harder. Our own childhoods may have taught us to shut down or suppress emotions. We may have internalised messages like “don’t cry” or “calm down” and those can get triggered in the moment.
Even if we can remain calm, it’s important to recognise and acknowledge our own internal experience in these moments. Even for those who are good at sitting with big feelings, there will still be times when it’s hard: We’re tired, stressed or overstimulated.
It’s difficult to be the anchor to someone else while we’re feeling depleted. This is when self-compassion matters most. You won’t always get it right. And when you don’t, it’s just as important to be with yourself too. Just as our kids need a safe presence, so do we.
Final takeaways
The goal is not to stop our children from having big feelings. Instead, it’s to be the anchor in the storm. To be the steady presence they can trust.
This helps to build trust, safety and connection. It teaches them: “You are not too much. Your emotions are not a problem.” It also teaches us that we don’t have to fix it, but rather, to just show up with love.
Remember, you don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be present.
Tune into the Mum to Mum with Doctor Tash podcast
Parenting isn’t easy and some days, it feels downright impossible. That’s why Mum to Mum with Doctor Tash is here: honest, heart-centred conversations about raising emotionally healthy kids, one connection at a time. Join paediatrician Doctor Tash (Natasha Ching) and host Melody Tan as they unpack the big emotions, everyday struggles and lightbulb moments that come with modern parenting. From tantrums to teen moods, from discipline to self-compassion, each monthly episode offers practical wisdom grounded in science and guided by empathy. This is the place where you’ll find understanding, not judgement. Real talk, not quick fixes. Because parenting isn’t about perfection—it’s about learning, growing and connecting.
NOTE: The information shared in this article and the podcast does not constitute medical advice. It is for general and educational purposes only. Please consult a qualified healthcare professional for advice specific to your situation.
The one thing your child needs more than a solution
