Mummy is angry.

Ben's POV

I am eating my cereal. It is good. It has the little squares. I like the little squares. I pick them out one by one.

Mummy is making coffee. I look at the machine. The coffee pours into a little cup. Normally, I would help Mummy and press the button, but now, I am busy. I look into my bowl, looking for the next square.

Then — bam!

I look up from my cereal.

The cup is on the floor. In pieces. Mummy says something. Not to me. Not nice words.

I look at the pieces on the floor. I know what to do. When there is a mess on the floor, we take the blue broom. The blue broom is in the corner. I get down from my chair.

"Ben. Stop. Sit down. Don't move."

I sit back down. I look at the pieces. They are still there.

"Why?"

"Because the glass can hurt you."

"Why?"

"It has sharp edges."

"Why it has sharp edges?"

"Ben." Her voice is different. "Just sit down and don't move."

I sit. I watch her get the dustpan. She crouches down and starts picking up the pieces carefully. I want to help. I know the blue broom would help.

"Can I get the—"

"No. Sit."

I sit.

"Why?"

Mummy looks up at me.

"Ben." Her voice is even more different now. "Just sit there. Don't move."

I sit. I watch her. She is moving fast. Her face is not the normal face.

"You seem angry," I say. "You want to shout. You don't like this glass broken."

She stops. She looks up at me. I look at her.

Then she smiles.

"Yes," she says. "I don't like this glass broken."

Tina's POV

Coffee. One of the best parts of the morning - just sipping coffee while Ben eats his breakfast. We plan, we laugh, we enjoy the time.

He is already at the table behind me, eating his cereal. I can hear him picking out the little squares, one by one, as if eating more than one at a time was not an option.

The machine finishes. I reach for the cup on the edge of the counter — bam!

It hits the floor. In pieces.

I swear. I don't think about it first. It just comes out. At least it was quiet.

I breathe. Glass everywhere. I turn to look at Ben.

He's climbing down from his chair.

"Ben. Stop. Sit down. Don't move."

He sits. Looks at me. Looks at the glass.

"Why?" And another why. And another.

"Ben." I hear my own voice. "Just sit there. Don't move."

I get the dustpan. Crouch down. The glass is everywhere — under the counter, across the floor, a piece against the fridge. I start picking it up.

And then I hear my little guy's voice: "You seem angry. You want to shout. You don't like this glass broken."

I stop.

Piece of glass in my hand. I look up at him.

He is sitting where I told him to sit, feet dangling, watching me with serious eyes. Reading my face. Trying to understand.

Those are my words. I taught him those words. You seem sad. You want to throw that. You don't like it when the tower falls.

He's using them on me.

I look at him for a moment. Then something in my chest unknots.

"Yes," I say. "I don't like this glass broken."

Inspired by

John Gottman's Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child and emotion coaching in general

Parents respond to their children's ("negative") emotions in various ways. Some dismiss or redirect emotions ("you're fine, let's move on"). Some criticise or disapprove. Some accept the emotions but do nothing to guide the children experiencing them. Some do emotion coaching - acknowledge and name the emotion, and guide the child experiencing it.

Emotion-coached children don't just feel better in the moment. They build a vocabulary. A set of tools. A way of reading the world.

Tina had given Ben the words in the past — you seem sad, you want to throw that, you don't like it when the tower falls — and he filed them away. Then one morning, he got them out and used them on her.

That's a child who can look at another person, notice something, and name it. That's empathy awakening.

My takeaway — and what I'm aiming for

- Name the emotions out loud, even when it feels unnecessary. You're frustrated. You wanted that and it's gone. Children are listening more than it may seem.

- Don't rush to fix or redirect. Witness first. The fix can wait a second.

- When a child turns around what you taught them and uses it on you — let it land. And enjoy the moment :)

Have you ever had your child name your emotion back at you? What did it feel like? Tell me in the comments.

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Photo by Jarek Ceborski on Unsplash