I used to be the master of knowing every little detail about my kids’ lives, whether they were right in front of me or miles away. You see, when they were younger, their “I need to tell you everything that’s buzzing around in my head” game was on another level. We’re talking about a saga that could rival a Netflix series. It was the kind of storytelling that made me think I might need a giant cup of coffee just to keep up.
But then, as they grew up, this blabbermouth phase began to fizzle out, leaving me with nothing but vacant stares and shoulder shrugs when I asked about their day. It’s like they’d forgotten the six hours they just spent at school. Seriously, how can they not have a single thing to say about their day?
This change was tough for me. It’s not that I was dying to hear about Tommy’s lunch escapade involving peas and his nose or every little detail about their stroll from the library back to class. But after being apart all day, a brief overview of their adventures would be nice. In my desperation, I’ve tried a bunch of tactics.
I’ll admit it—I’ve bribed them. Nothing extravagant, just a little fast food on the way home in exchange for a few juicy tidbits about their day. It worked for about a week before they caught on.
I’ve tried to play it cool. “What’s new?” I’d ask. “Oh, um, nothing,” they’d respond with a shrug. “What’s going on in your world?” My son literally looked in the hood of his sweatshirt when I asked him this. “Nothing in my hood,” he said, completely missing the point. And when I asked for their favorite part of the day? Cue the eye rolls.
There was even a moment where I threatened to reach out to their teachers. I’d never actually do it, of course—teachers have enough on their plates without me checking in daily just because I want to know what my kids did all day. But I hoped my threats would get them talking. Spoiler alert: it didn’t work.
Then I decided to take a different approach. For an entire week, I kept my questions to myself. No inquiries about their day, no interrogations in the car or at dinner. I figured this might make them curious enough to share details when they realized I was no longer asking. Instead, I only learned how much they appreciated the silence. When I resumed my questioning, they clammed up even more.
Finally, I laid it on the table and asked why they were so tight-lipped about their school days. The answer was refreshingly simple: “I just can’t, Mom. I’ve been there all day; I don’t even want to think about it when I get home.”
And just like that, the light bulb went off. As much as I want to be in the loop, I shouldn’t take their silence personally. It’s not that they’re trying to keep secrets (okay, maybe a little); they simply don’t have the energy left to dissect the past six hours.
I get it now. After a long workday myself, I often come home wanting to switch gears and not rehash my mundane tasks. The silver lining? When something truly exciting happens, they make sure to share it with me. And if they mess up? Well, their teachers have that covered.
As much as I’d love to dive deeper into their daily lives, I’ll take what I can get. If you’re interested in more on parenting or maybe even a bit about home insemination, check out this resource. For those curious about fertility, Make a Mom has some great tools. And if you’re looking to expand your knowledge on genetics and IVF, this article is a fantastic resource.
Summary:
Navigating the silence of older kids can be challenging for parents who once received detailed updates about their school days. As children grow, they often become less communicative, leaving parents feeling out of the loop. It’s important to recognize that kids may simply need a break after a long day at school. Instead of forcing conversations, parents can take a step back and allow their children to share when they feel ready, knowing that they will still share the important moments when they arise.