My family's way of expressing kindness is a bit rough

My children are probably kind.

However, their way of expressing kindness is a bit rough.

Rather than asking nicely, "Are you okay?" they say things like,

"You're going to spill that."
"Hey, that's dangerous."
"What are you doing?"
"You should slurp it properly."

It comes out like that.

Are they worried?
Are they criticizing me?
Are they teasing me?

Honestly, there are times when I really don't know.

But, they are probably worried.

When I went to pick up my daughter, we had a conversation like that.

Talking about school tests.
Talking about studying on YouTube.
Talking about how it's hard for me to absorb information unless it's taught in the old-fashioned way.
Talking about how I told her, "Once you've memorized that, make sure you can explain it to Mom, too."

My daughter, for her part, answered calmly.

As I listened to her, I thought,
"It's amazing that you can say you're okay."

It's not just now, but I find it quite difficult to say "I'm okay" to myself.

That's why I thought it was genuinely amazing that my daughter could say "I'm okay" before a test.

On another day, we talked about this too.

When you're sick, kind words can sometimes stop sounding kind.

Even though the other person is actually worried about you,
it can sound like you're being blamed.

A casual remark
can sometimes sting like a thorn.

We talked about things like that.

My daughter listened in silence.

I think she probably didn't know how to respond.

But she was listening.

After that, my daughter said this:

"When you're angry or tired,
you get filled up with the emotions of that moment,
and sometimes you can't hear other people's voices.

But that doesn't last forever.

Sometimes it helps to try writing it down by hand.

You get tired while writing.

You feel sluggish,
and sometimes you can think,
"I guess that's enough."

When you look back at it later,
you can think, "Oh, I was thinking that at the time."
I was a little surprised when I heard that.

My daughter had her own way of dealing with her emotions.

I said to my daughter,

"That's a professional-level response.

Couldn't you work in counseling support?"
Accepting what someone says once.

Not immediately denying it.
Suggesting where to get help if necessary.
But not taking on too much of the burden.
I think it's amazing that she can do those things naturally.

Of course, my daughter is not a counselor.

I don't intend to make my daughter carry all of me.

I also believe that children shouldn't have to carry the burden of their parents' struggles.

That's why I am also connected to outside support services.

But in our daily life,

the fact that I can have conversations like that with my daughter
is something I thought was very important.
My son's language is also quite rough.

It's not a refined way of speaking.

But he watches the news and sometimes worries about his sister's commute and daily life.

Talk about brown bears.
Talk about the local area.

Talk about where her school friends live.
Even if his way of speaking is rough,
he sees what needs to be seen.

Even though he's worried,
he doesn't just say "I'm worried."

He teases a little.
He's a little sharp-tongued.

But he cares.
Maybe my children are just that type.
And, perhaps that's partly my fault.

I myself haven't always used soft and gentle words

with my children.

Ours wasn't a home of refined kindness like,
"Oh, are you okay?"

"That must have been hard."
"Don't push yourself."
We tease.

We laugh.

We joke around.
We worry.
We complain.
But, one way or another, we care.
That's the kind of conversation we've had.
So, at this point,

it might be a bit off to expect perfectly gentle words only from my children.

My family's
way of expressing kindness is a bit rough.
But we don't have a bad relationship.

We have conversations.
We talk about tests.

We talk about bookkeeping.

We talk about snacks.

We talk about tea.
We talk about brown bears and caterpillars.
We even talk about how "cute" is a universal language.
Sometimes, our tongues are sharp.
But we are communicating.
We worry.

We are worried about.

It's just that when I don't have any energy left,

I sometimes can't receive that rough kindness well.
Words I could laugh at normally

become thorns.
Words that sound like teasing

pierce like blades.
That's not because my children have suddenly become mean.

I think it's because my capacity to receive is quite low at times.
Even with the same words,

when the receiver has energy, they can laugh.

But when they don't have energy, it becomes a wound.

Lately, I think about that a lot.
My children are not beings that perfectly support me.

I shouldn't make them my support system.

But in our daily conversations,

they certainly do keep me tethered to this side.

Picking up my daughter.

Talking about tests.
Saying, "Teach me bookkeeping once you've learned it."

Teasing my son about his sharp tongue.

Buying snacks.

Saying the tea is delicious.

Being told not to spill things.

Those small conversations

make up my daily life.

My children's

way of expressing kindness is a bit rough.
And I am surely that kind of parent, too.

But even in that roughness,
there is genuine worry.

There is love.

Even if it's clumsy, sharp-tongued,
and sometimes turns into thorns.

Even so,
I think these children are cute.

My lovely daughter and son.

Today, their way of speaking is a bit rough, but
our conversation is still going on properly.

#CoinBridge
Verbalizing structures and connecting the field with the system