For weeks following the accident that nearly took our daughter’s life, she and I were arguing. We jokingly called it our August ‘vacation’ of 2015—those weeks spent at a Sheraton in West Philadelphia. I share this story not because I handled it perfectly—I didn’t—but because it taught me that parent-child conflicts often mask deeper needs.

Our kids may seem defiant or ungrateful, but often they’re overwhelmed, growing, and just trying to make sense of their world. Understanding this helps us choose compassion over confrontation, rediscovering the joy in everyday parenting.

Parenting Under Pressure

Parenting is full of contradictions. As Jennifer Senior wrote, “It’s just that the fun parts of raising a kid—whether it’s singing at the top of your lungs or buying your daughter a dress, coaching a soccer game or staying in and baking banana bread—can be overwhelmed by the strains and moment-to-moment chores of the job.” This truth hit me hard during the weeks following my daughter’s accident, when all I could feel were the burdens, and none of the joys.

One area of angst was that our room didn’t have a microwave or refrigerator. This was a major challenge because Alex is not only a vegetarian, but she also had jaw surgery and could hardly chew. She desperately needed calories for healing and to support all her medications. Finding vegetarian food in West Philly with no car or knowledge of restaurants in the city was one of my many challenges for which I complained about often.

In response to my complaints, Alex proclaimed she didn’t choose to get hit by a truck and didn’t even want me taking care of her after living on her own for two years. Understandable, right?

I was not a joyful caretaker. Honestly, being an introvert with weeks of zero time alone, along with the impact of trauma, took a toll on me. ‘Acts of Service’ is not my love language.

When Alex expressed her frustration over my complaints, I heard, “You’re a failure. You’re a terrible mom who can’t even take care of your hurting daughter.”

I felt as if we fought more in those weeks than we did her entire 20 years of life.

Understanding the Child’s Brain

Years later, I discovered my girl barely remembers the fighting. She has faint memories of stress and angst, but doesn’t remember one argument. Not one.

Why? Because she was in trauma. Her brain was functioning in survival mode, prioritizing her most critical needs: healing, eating, moving, and fighting pain. Managing emotions healthily is impossible when one is in trauma. Her brain was simply not capable of processing conflict the way an adult might.

And it’s not just trauma—children’s brains are still developing well into their late teens, making emotional regulation and reasoning a challenge even under normal circumstances. This means that when our kids throw tantrums, have emotional outbursts, or seem overwhelmed, their brains often lack the capacity to handle stress as adults do. 

They aren’t giving us a hard time. They’re having a hard time.

Here I was, trying to take care of a daughter who desperately needed her mom and feeling like a failure, not realizing the conflict wasn’t about me.

Understanding Emotional Triggers

Whether in trauma or everyday life, power struggles, arguments, and heated conversations are rarely about the thing. Often, mis-communicated physical or emotional needs trigger conflict.

That’s why dinnertime arguments are so common when everyone’s tired and hungry.

Though Alex reacted to my discontent, underneath it all, she was really responding to her sudden loss of independence and lack of control. And in my attempts to fix everything, I had forgotten that what she really needed was not a solution, but a sense of comfort and understanding.

What Really Matters

What does Alex remember about our Philly ‘vacation’?

She remembers fighting for recovery, doctor appointments, her friends showing up to help, her well-loved stuffed lamb, Potato, who miraculously made it with her to the hospital, and watching endless reruns of “Naked and Afraid.” She also remembers me being there when she needed me, even with all my grumbling.

One of my biggest takeaways is the realization of how a brain in trauma—or even in ordinary moments of stress—literally hijacks normal function in order to protect the human from further harm. There is no way to win against such a powerful force.

Finding Empathy Instead of Control

Yes, I wish I had been more caring, joyful, and emotionally supportive. So now, when I’m tempted to argue or engage with someone whose brain is overwhelmed—whether from trauma or just a rough day—I reach for my white flag, close my mouth, and do my best to listen. I remind myself that they aren’t trying to be difficult; they’re struggling, just like we all do sometimes.

My best is all I can do. Thankfully, my kids mostly remember me at my best.

In emotionally healthy families, kids remember times when they felt seen, when home was a soft place to land, and the silly, fun moments. They remember rituals, family trips and events, and when their parents helped them overcome challenges.

Letting Go and Finding Joy

In the everyday push and pull—getting dinner on the table, juggling carpools, managing screen time—it’s easy to lose sight of the joyful moments. But when we step back and remember that our kids aren’t giving us a hard time, they’re having a hard time, we create room for more patience, more laughter, and more understanding. That’s when the fun parts shine through.

Letting go of the need to control every detail allows space for the love, fun, and connection that truly define family life. When we recognize that our kids’ brains are still learning and growing, we can respond with empathy instead of anger.

And even in the chaos, what our children carry forward is not the conflict but the moments we shared laughter, comfort, and understanding.