How I’m Cultivating a “Safe Home” for my Children
Starting therapy again has made me start thinking a lot about my past and my childhood experiences. While it wasn’t all ‘sunshine and rainbows’, I CAN say I was pretty lucky overall. I had what I like to call a ‘safe home’ - a place that I could always run to with a person I could always talk to. No spaces or topics off limits kind of safe. Judgement free zone (unless I was in danger, of course).
Now that I have a toddler of my own and a second baby on the way, I find myself thinking about the space I want them to grow up in and I keep coming back to that ‘safe'‘ feeling. Here’s how I’m cultivating that for them in our home.
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No room is off limits.
Except the bathroom when in use, that is. Otherwise, enter as you will. My bedroom when I’m sick, it’s 2am or I’m simply reading; the kitchen when I’m cooking while listening to music or you need a midnight snack, my office while writing or you need a charger. I know there are some people who keep certain rooms in their homes off limits, but I’m not that person. Yes, let’s set some boundaries but if you need me or dad or something, the door is open.
No topic is off limits.
I remember coming home from school somedays and my mom would be in the kitchen. I’d sit on the counter while she sat at the table and we’d just talk - about our days, what she watched on TV that day, what the neighbors were up to, the homework I had to do, and beyond. I’d lay on her bed or she’d lay on mine and that’s where we’d spill the deep stuff - relationships, sickness, family things. If I wanted to know what was up, I got the honest truth. My children will have that same respect.
Patience.
Sometimes I don’t know how my mother did it - I could be {read: still am} a total hot head, and then there was the whole ‘moody pre-teen’ thing to deal with. I had my spats: “I HATE YOU!” in the middle of the yard, “LEAVE ME ALONE!” and cue door slam, etc. But wowza, that woman had composure. She had a 10-minute rule: be mad for 10 minutes: yell, cry, punch the pillow; then we talk about it. She’d remind me of the rule that was set for whatever reason: “dinner is now because you need to study because you didn't do well on that test” or “Remember when you mouthed off last week? That’s why you don’t get to use the computer” etc. Those 10 minutes away helped her remain calm and gave me a chance to regroup, and she would always give a second chance (just don’t blow it).
Don’t openly fight.
Of course my parents would bicker and have their blow-outs; they’re human. I also knew because we lived in a 750-square-foot house and our bedrooms shared a thin wall. However, it was never done directly in front of me. I always knew when someone was walking away because voices would go quiet. Rarely would I hear voices get raised at all (unless someone’s fuse was lit then it was all over; a natural response). My parents tried their best to TALK out their issues and never display them in front of me. If I wanted to know something, I was allowed to openly ask them both and they’d tell me.
Support them.
Be front and center. Be at every sporting event or chorus concert. Let them express themselves, be who they want to be and let them flourish to their highest potential. Root for them; they’re your children after all.
Dad and I can be your friends, too.
Of course we’re parents first - boundaries will be set and there will be rules and consequences. But, I can only hope to be my children’s friend, too. I hope they tell their friends and future spouses/children that their parents were/are their best friends, their biggest fans. I hope our home is the place they hang out at as teens and where they come back to in their adult years. By putting these methods into motion, I hope my children always feel safe.
