October 7, 2022

My children are going through a stage in which they only speak with a British accent at home.  Let me be clear –  it’s their version of a British accent and most likely terribly offensive to any British person I know.  On Friday, when we were sheltering at home with the hurricane, I probed deeper into this accent to determine if they were speaking like Harry Potter or speaking like Bluey. Lily, my sweet 9-year-old, promptly sighed, “Mom, Bluey is Australian” – like I was a total idiot or something. I mean, I know Bluey is Australian, but I really didn’t know that my kids knew that or even if they knew Australia was a place, but I was proven wrong. I now blame Harry Potter. My follow-up question was how long they thought this Brit stage would last and my husband piped up in the background, “It’s only a phase”.

There. It. Was. Matt threw down those words – those words of advice we give ourselves and each other to provide some sense of order in the middle of chaos, “It’s only a phase.” It’s also the LAST thing we all want to hear from someone else who is trying to reassure us of our current terrible situation. Everyone is so well-intentioned when they are NOT in that phase, right? 

  • It’s only a phase!
  • The days are long, but the years are short!
  • You’ll miss this stage when you are out of it!

And other lies we tell ourselves and each other, right?

Raise your hand nice and high if you, as I did, cry, “Please let this be a phase, please let this be a phase, “ while hiding in a closet or bathroom or just there in the middle of the kitchen while wearing the same ratty yoga outfit that you wore the entire week before with spit-up in your hair?  Or pleading, “It’s only a phase,” when you are so exhausted or as you stare at your child and wonder if you are raising a psychopath.

Been there, done that, still doing it.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about this phrase, “It’s just a phase.”  We talk about phases with such a negative connotation. It’s this time in our lives – in our kids’ lives – where we just wish this time away because we just want to JUST. GET. THROUGH. IT, only to find out that there is another phase ahead…and another, and another, and another. 

But here’s the problem with wishing time away. All of a sudden, it’s a few years later and Facebook is reminding you of that sweet baby who nestled into your arms between 30-minute naps, or (in my case), it’s a few years later and you are snuggling and cuddling a sick kiddo at the preschool knowing full well that your own children just give you the cursory hug these days.  It’s a few years later and guess what?  Phases are still there – they just keep changing over time.

What if – just what if – we view phases as opportunities with our children, instead of things to wish away?

Two weeks ago, I attended a parenting seminar called “The Phase Event” at Soapstone UMC. The Phase Event is a program designed for both parents and others who work with children to learn more about the different stages and phases of their lives. More than that, the Phase Event challenged us about our opinion of the word “phase”. How these dreaded phases should be viewed less as a heartache and more as an opportunity to take in each year of our children’s lives and provide them with the space and grace to be exactly who they should be.  It’s an interesting theory – and honestly a theory that I kind of love.  How do we shift our responses to our children based upon what they need at each particular age?  

I believe phases are meant to challenge us. To change us. To allow us to grow into who we are to be. But in order for us – for our children –  to grow from them, we need to embrace them and engage with them. And that means finding the opportunities that exist in each phase. 

  • Learning how to enable our toddlers in the discovery of their newfound skills and freedoms in their, “I can do it!” stage
  • Comforting our precious 3 and 4 year olds during their big emotions and “But Why?” phase
  • Being fully present with our 5 year olds when they just want our attention – “Look at me!”.

Or for me, how do you make the most of a really horrible phase? A year ago this fall, we embarked on the worst phase in our lives, as we spent 6 weeks in different cities while our son had daily radiation treatments at CHOP. There was so much pleading, so much crying, but in the end, do you know where Luke can’t wait to visit again?  Philly.  He talks about it all the time.  He can’t wait to go to the museums, to play soccer on UPenn’s campus, go to the big playground, eat all the yummy foods – and, in his words, he can spend all of his time doing that stuff because he doesn’t have to go to the hospital anymore. It’s a beautiful silver lining that we have out of the experience. 

I’m not suggesting that phases aren’t the worst sometimes. Just like you, I’ve been (and still am) in the trenches of parenting, when you are doing everything you can just to survive.  I think there is something to be said, though, about taking a breath and trying to both embrace and engage these phases and stages of life, because it’s an opportunity to help our children grow and learn through each and every one of them. It’s our opportunity to know our children for who they are. It also helps me remember to take the time to soak parenting in – the good, the bad, and the British.  

“For nothing will be impossible with God.” 

Luke 1:37

So yes, Matt.  The British accent is only a phase.  But I’ll miss this one when the next phase is not talking to us and only texting with their friends.