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Family

Mom finds brilliant way to tell her kids the 'truth' about Santa and other parents take notes

If you're a parent struggling how to break the news, this might help.

Photo by krakenimages on Unsplash

How to tell your kids the truth about Santa.

"It's the mooost wonderful tiiiiime of the — OH NO, did Charlie just ask if Santa is real?!"

If you're a parent in a household that celebrates Christmas, you can likely relate to the dreaded Santa Claus conversation. It may come with tears, it may come with tantrums, and it may even be worse for you, seeing that heart-wrenching look of disappointment spread across your child's once-merry face.

It's a dilemma Charity Hutchinson of British Columbia was pondering, as a mom to two young boys and the two nephews she cares for as well.

Hutchinson family and the truth about Santa.

Photo by Theresa Easter Photography.

One of Hutchinson's nephews raised the notorious question, telling her he no longer believed in Santa Claus.

"I felt sad because he seemed disappointed telling me his news," she explained in a message. "And in that moment I didn't know what to say to him."

Hutchinson soon stumbled upon some advice online, finding what she described as “by far the best idea I’ve seen about telling your kids about Santa."

The idea of Santa may seem frivolous to many adults, but to believe in something much bigger than yourself, only to learn you've been lied to by the people you trust most in the world? That can be a really big deal to a kid (and can possibly even create long-term trust issues for them, as one study found). The Santa conversation is one many parents understandably want to get right.

So when Hutchinson saw one of her friends on Facebook share an anonymous post detailing a strategy for breaking the news to your kids without disappointing them, she was thrilled.

Hutchinson loved the idea so much, she shared it on Facebook as well:

This is by far the best idea I've seen about telling your kids about Santa. Had to share! *********"In our family, we...
Posted by Charity Hutchinson on Tuesday, November 29, 2016

This is how it works:

1. Find a time to take your kid out, one-on-one, to a favorite spot and deliver the great news: The time has come for them to become a Santa.

"When they are 6 or 7, whenever you see that dawning suspicion that Santa may not be a material being, that means the child is ready. I take them out 'for coffee' at the local wherever. We get a booth, order our drinks, and the following pronouncement is made: 'You sure have grown an awful lot this year. Not only are you taller, but I can see that your heart has grown, too.'"

The post suggests pointing to a few different examples of how your kid has shown empathy or done something nice for another person throughout the past year. Let them know it was in those moments they proved themselves worthy of finally "becoming a Santa" themselves.

2. Assure your kid that they're ready to become a Santa because they understand the true meaning of giving (it's not just about the milk and cookies).

"You probably have noticed that most of the Santas you see are people dressed up like him. Some of your friends might have even told you that there is no Santa. A lot of children think that because they aren't ready to BE a Santa yet, but YOU ARE."

Get them talking about all the reasons they think Santa's the best. They may start out by pointing to his sleigh-riding skills or the fact he can go around the whole world in just one night. But move the conversation toward Santa being not so much of a cool person, but a cool concept that's focused on giving. Handing out presents makes the spirit of Santa a spectacular thing. Because your kid understands why giving back matters too, it's time they become a Santa themselves.

Also, "make sure you maintain the proper conspiratorial tone," the post notes.

3. Now that they're in on the secret, have them choose someone who could really use a great gift and devise a plan to give it away — secretly, of course.

"We then have the child choose someone they know — a neighbor, usually. The child's mission is to secretly, deviously, find out something that the person needs, and then provide it, wrap it, deliver it — and never reveal to the target where it came from. Being a Santa isn't about getting credit, you see. It's unselfish giving."

In the original post, the writer explains that their oldest child decided to buy a gift for a neighbor who always walked out to get the newspaper without her shoes on. Their son spied on the neighbor one day from the bushes to estimate her shoe size — he predicted she wore mediums — and then slipped a pair of slippers under her driveway gate one evening with a note "from Santa." The following morning, the neighbor was spotted wearing the slippers. Their son was ecstatic.

4. Remind them that being a Santa is top-secret business. And that, next year, they can carry on with their selfless Santa duties once again.

"I had to remind him that NO ONE could ever know what he did or he wouldn't be a Santa. Over the years, he chose a good number of targets, always coming up with a unique present just for them."

One year, for instance, he polished up a bike for a family friend's daughters. The writer's son was just as over the moon about giving the gift as the daughters were about receiving it.

In a little over a week, Hutchinson's post has racked up thousands of Likes and shares, with plenty of thankful parents chiming in in the comments.

"I never imagined it would be so popular!" Hutchinson explains. "I mean, it felt special when I read it and completely gave me goosebumps, but I didn't realize it would go this far."

Where the original post came from is still somewhat of a mystery. As The Huffington Post reported, it seems to have first cropped up in 2007 in an online forum. Ever since, the idea has floated around the web here and there, but has only made waves recently with Hutchinson's post going viral.

The secret of being a Santa, so to speak, has already worked its holiday magic on Hutchinson's once-suspicious nephew.

Filling him in on becoming a Santa was an instant game-changer, she says.

"His eyes lit right up," she writes. "That excitement and joy returned to him and he couldn't stop asking me questions! ... Instantly I could see the wheels were turning and he started planning who his special target would be and what he would get them and how he'd pull it off."

Hutchinson is happy her simple Facebook post has turned into something so special. "It isn't just a nice way to break the news to your kids," she writes. "But it really teaches them about the true meaning of Christmas and how you should always give to others."

This article originally appeared on 12.09.16

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What to do when you're the child of an alcoholic

My dad was an addict, and growing up with him taught me a lot.

Photo with permission from writer Ashley Tieperman.

Ashley Tieperman and her father.

There was never just one moment in my family when we “found out" that my dad was an addict.

I think I always knew, but I never saw him actually drinking. Usually, he downed a fifth of vodka before he came home from work or hid tiny bottles in the garage and bathroom cabinets.

My name is Ashley, and I am the child of an addict. As a kid, I cried when our family dinner reservation shrunk from four to three after a man with glassy eyes stumbled through the door. I didn't guzzle the vodka, but I felt the heartbreak of missed birthdays. I feel like I should weigh 500 pounds from all the “I'm sorry" chocolate donuts. I had to grow up quicker, but it made me into the person I am today.

addiction, coping, 12 step programs, recovery

Me and my dad.

Photo with permission from writer Ashley Tieperman.

I spent many years shouting into journals about why this was happening to me. But this is the thing that no one will tell you about loving someone who has an addiction: it will force you to see the world through different eyes.

Here are some things I've learned:

1. When your family's yelling about burnt toast, they're probably also yelling about something else.

My family yelled about everything — and nothing — to avoid the messy stuff. We all handled my dad's addiction differently. My brother devoured sports. My mom took bubble baths. I slammed doors and slammed boyfriends for not understanding my family's secrets.

Regardless of the preferred coping mechanism, everyone feels pain differently.

2. Your "knight in shining armor" can't fix this.

Boyfriends became my great escape when I was young. But when I expected them to rescue me from the pain I grew up with, it never worked out. No matter how strapping they looked galloping in on those white horses, they couldn't save me or fix anything.

In the end, I realized that I had to find healing on my own before I could build a strong relationship.

3. “Don't tell anyone" is a normal phase.

When my dad punched holes in the wall, my mom covered them up with artwork. I wanted to rip the artwork down to expose all the holes, especially as a bratty teenager. But eventually I realized that it wasn't my choice. My parents had bills to pay and jobs to keep. I've learned it's common to cover up for dysfunction in your family, especially when it feels like the world expects perfection.

4. Friends probably won't get it, but you'll need them anyway.

Bulldozed by broken promises, I remember collapsing on a friend's couch from the crippling pain of unmet expectations. I hyperventilated. Things felt uncontrollable and hopeless. My friend rubbed my back and just listened.

These are the kinds of friends I will keep forever, the ones who crawled down into the dark places with me and didn't make me get back up until I was ready.

5. You can't fix addiction, but you can help.

When I was a teenager, I called a family meeting. I started by playing a Switchfoot song: “This is your life. Are you who you want to be?"

Let's skip to the punchline: It didn't work.

It wasn't just me. Nothing anyone did worked. My dad had to lose a lot — mostly himself — before he hit that place they call “rock bottom." And, in all honesty, I hate that label because “rock bottom" isn't just a one-and-done kind of place.

What can you do while you wait for someone to actually want to get help? Sometimes, you just wait. And you hope. And you pray. And you love. And you mostly just wait.

6. Recovery is awkward.

When a counselor gave me scripted lines to follow if my dad relapsed, I wanted to shred those “1-2-3 easy steps" into a million pieces.

For me, there was nothing easy about my dad's recovery. My whole family had to learn steps to a new dance when my dad went into recovery. The healing dance felt like shuffling and awkwardly stepping on toes. It was uncomfortable; new words, like trust and respect, take time to sink in. And that awkwardness is also OK.

7. I still can't talk about addiction in the past tense.

Nothing about an addict's life happens linearly. I learned that early on. My dad cycled through 12-step programs again and again, to the point where I just wanted to hurl whenever anyone tried to talk about it. And then we finally reached a point where it felt like recovery stuck.

But even now, I'll never say, “My dad used to deal with addiction." My whole family continues to wrestle with the highs and lows of life with an addict every single day.

8. Happy hours and wedding receptions aren't easy to attend.

My family will also probably never clink glasses of red wine or stock the fridge full of beer. I'm convinced happy hours and wedding receptions will get easier, but they might not. People get offended when my dad orders a Diet Coke instead of their fine whisky.

Plus, there's the paranoia factor. Surrounded by flowing liquor, I hate watching my dad crawl out of his skin, tempted to look “normal" and tackle small talk with people we barely know. I've learned that this fear will probably last for a while, and it's because I care.

9. If you close your eyes, the world doesn't just “get prettier."

With constant fear of the unknown, sometimes our world is not a pretty place. I remember watching the breaking news on 9/11 and feeling the terror of the planes crashing into the Twin Towers as if I was there.

My dad numbed the anxiety of these dark days with vodka, but this didn't paint a prettier world for him when he woke up the next day. I've dealt with the fear of the unknown with the help of boys, booze, and bad dancing on pool tables. Life hurts for everyone, and I think we all have to decide how we're going to handle the darkness.

10. Rip off the sign on your back that reads: “KICK ME. MY LIFE SUCKS."

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see only my broken journey. In some twisted way, I'm comforted by the dysfunction because it's kept me company for so long. It's easy to let the shadow of my family's past follow me around and choose to drown in the darkness.

But every day, I'm learning to turn on the light. I have to write the next chapter in my recovery story, but I can't climb that mountain with all this crap weighing me down.

11. It's OK to forgive, too.

Some people have given me sucky advice about how I should write an anthem on daddy bashing, or how to hit the delete button on the things that shaped my story.

Instead, my dad and I are both learning to celebrate the little things, like the day that he could change my flat tire. On that day, I didn't have to wonder if he was too drunk to come help me.

I can't forget all the dark nights of my childhood.

But I've learned that for my own well-being, I can't harbor bitterness until I explode.

Instead, I can love my dad, day by day, and learn to trust in the New Dad — the one with clearer eyes and a full heart. The one who rescues me when I call.

This article was written by Ashley Tieperman and originally appeared on 04.27.16

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Debunked: Negative parenting images have zero impact on people's desire to have kids

People quip about misbehaving kids being "birth control," but that's not what the research shows.

Photo by Snapwire

"Baby fever" is hard to beat.

The desire to become a parent is at once an incredibly simple biological impulse and a complex psychological decision. As mammals, we have an innate evolutionary drive to reproduce and pass on our genes. As humans, we may feel compelled to nurture a child, to grow a family, to leave a lineage and legacy behind…or we may not.

Some people don't feel the desire to have children, but research shows most young adults do. The phenomenon known as "baby fever" is real, and it happens to both women and men. For women, the desire for a baby tends to start off strong and decrease with age and after having children, whereas for men baby fever tends to increase as they get older.

But how does popular culture impact that desire? Do parenting depictions in media and advertisements have an influence one way or another?

Those are the questions researchers from the UBC Sauder School of Business explored in a 2022 study published in the Journal of Experimental Psychology: Applied.

“Advertising and social media play an important role in how we view the world. In general, what we see on Instagram and Facebook are positive portrayals of parenthood, with #blessed and #bestkidsever. How often do we see parents post #mykidsareterrible?” asked study co-author Dr. Lisa Cavanaugh. “We wanted to see if, by simply showing pictures of kids in advertising, we could affect the desire to have children.”

The study authors observed 1,093 childless young adults between the ages of 18-35 as they viewed positive and negative parent-child advertisements and ads with the children removed (neutral images). Positive images showed things like a parent and child smiling while interacting or doing something fun and creative together, while negative images showed children having meltdowns or parents clearly exasperated with a child's misbehavior.

What they found was that positive parenting images increased the participants' desire to have a child by 22 percent compared to the neutral images. However, there was no inverse effect with the negative parent-child images.

— (@)

In fact, there was no negative effect at all. Seeing parenting being portrayed negatively did not change participants' minds about wanting to have a child.

“These are people who don’t yet have children, so it could be they see the comedy in kids behaving badly. When it’s not you trying to clean up the mess or get a child to eat before you go to work, it can be humorous,” Dr. Cavanaugh posited. “But we can say with certainty that people without children who saw these negative parent-child moments were not dissuaded.”

One thing the authors found in measuring how negative parenting images impacted "baby fever" was that both positive and negative parenting images evoked a sense of empathy in participants, which correlated with a greater desire to have children. Even the negative parenting images tended to create an empathic response (though not as significantly as the positive parenting images did) leading to a slight increase in desire to have a child.

"Further bolstering the importance of empathic emotions in understanding the desire to have children, our results indicated that the depiction of negative parent–child moments also increases the desire to have children via empathic emotions," the authors wrote. "This finding suggests that the valence of parent–child images (i.e., that they are positive and sweet) may be less critical to the increased desire to have children. Instead, empathic emotions seem to be critical in predicting the desire to have children."

So perhaps the quips we see on social media posts of misbehaving children or stressed out parents about them being "birth control" really are just jokes. According to this study, "baby fever" isn't so easily brought down.

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Flight attendant tired of seeing moms do all the work on flights asks dads to do better

"You do not have to do all the work. I hate to see it."

via Rahul Singh/Pexels and Electrosolar/Flickr

A flight attendant helping a mother and baby.

There is a significant trend happening right now on social media where women are calling out men for using “weaponized incompetence” as a way to avoid taking responsibility for their families.

Weaponized incompetence is when someone pretends they can't do a task correctly, so someone else ends up doing it instead. In families, this can create an unfair workload and reinforce traditional gender roles, leaving one person with more responsibility than they should have.

Obviously, there are many men out there who are pulling their own weight in their families, but those who live in the past and have no problem having their wives take on unnecessary burdens deserve to be called out.

Recently, a flight attendant on Reddit pointed out the unfair distribution of labor she sees when families take summer vacations. According to Yunghazel, she sees women doing all of the work with children on planes while the dads relax and enjoy the flight.

Some fathers even stay in first class while mom and the kids sit in coach.

“I am sick and tired of seeing the women doing all the work when she travels with her family,” she writes. “She is the one with the boarding passes, knows the seats, wrangles the children, and sits with them. Meanwhile, the husband/dad is sitting in a different row, kid-free, having the time of his life watching a movie.”

“The mom is taking care of the kids, has activities, snacks and does bathroom trips,” she continues. “Oh, and don’t even get me started on the ones who sit in First Class and leave their family in the back.”

She added that when she sees a father allowing his wife to relax on a flight, she will point it out. “I actually complimented one father who was amazing with his 3 kids and the mom was able to relax with a drink and assist as needed,” she wrote. “He was shocked when I told him it was a rare case and lovely to see. He said, ‘I’m just being a dad.’”

She finished the post by asking women to demand to be treated as equals when flying with their families. “Ladies, I am begging you. If you are going on a family vacation this summer, set some travel expectations on how you can tackle the plane ride with your partner so it’s an enjoyable experience. You do not have to do all the work. I hate to see it,” she concluded her post.

The post resonated with many women whose husbands who didn’t pull their own weight on trips.

“I hated trips when I was married and had young kids for this very reason. It was vacation for everyone but me. I spent the entire time minding kids, managing everything, making sure things were figured out, managing a man-baby's emotions and being denied enough sleep to function,” whoinvitedthesepeopl wrote.

“I had a mini meltdown a few years ago because my husband checked us in and sat both kids with me and himself in the aisle seat across,” Treelakerockcloud added. “So while he would be close the bulk of the plane parenting would fall on me. He said that’s because we ‘always did it this way.’”

Many gendered double standards are so deeply ingrained into American society that we have a difficult time noticing them, whether we’re the man hiding behind weaponized incompetence or the woman behaving as mothers have traditionally.

Only when people speak up and point out these forms of inequality will we begin to see some change. That’s why posts like Yunghazel’s are important. Sometimes, someone must point out the obvious to start a conversation that we’ve been waiting too long to have.

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Meet a mom who takes care of people's babies while they make huge parenting decisions.

This is what it's like to be an 'interim parent.'

Photo by Stacey Natal/Total City Girl used with permission.

Jillian, “... my heart skips a beat."

I'm trying desperately to be respectful of the person speaking to me, but my husband keeps texting me.

First he sends me a selfie of him with Rafi*, then it's an account of who stopped him on his way into the NICU.

Then he suggests I take a selfie with Jillian* so he can post them side-by-side on Facebook and boast that we finally have two babies.

People will ask if they're twins, I'm sure. But they're not twins. In fact, the babies aren't even ours.

James' dream come true: Two babies! Rafi in the NICU with Tatte, Jillian at home with Eema.

Photo by Ann Lapin, used with permission.

I take care of these babies because I'm what's known as an "interim parent."

Over the past four years, my family has cared for 22 newborns.

Photo by Ann Lapin, used with permission.

The program I'm part of is rare; there are very few like it in the United States.

While the babies are in my care, the birth parents retain their legal rights as parents and are encouraged to visit their babies (if that's something they would like).

My three kids with our baby before he meets his forever mommy.

Photo by Ann Lapin, used with permission.

If they weren't in the care of interim moms like me, these tiny babies might wait in the hospital a few extra days while their adoptions are finalized — or they might enter the foster care system.

In New York, biological parents have 30 days after adoption proceedings begin to change their minds about their placement plan.

I became an interim parent when a local mom posted about it on our neighborhood Yahoo! group.

"That! THAT I can do!" I thought, as I looked at the computer screen.

I was thrilled. I felt incapable of doing other types of volunteer work, but I felt like I had finally found a community service that I could perform. So, my husband and I applied. And after months of doctor appointments, background checks, interviews, and letters of reference from close friends, we were accepted.

biological parents, decision making, social care

We left the adoption agency with an empty stroller — but it didn't stay that way for long!

Photo by Stacey Natal/ Total City Girl, used with permission.

The hope with the interim boarding care program is that biological parents have time to gain clarity about their decisions without pressure.

It also helps adoptive parents feel secure in their status as parents.

The children don't usually get the chance to be present when one of our babies goes home, so this was a special day. Roughly 30% of the babies I've cared for have returned to their biological parents after their stay with me, and the rest have been adopted. Many of the birth mothers I've known have pursued open adoptions, selecting and meeting their child's forever families.

People often ask me what the experience of interim parenting is like, but there's no rule: Each case is different.

Babies stay with us, on average, for a few weeks. But one baby stayed with us with five days, another for nine and a half weeks.

Whatever the scenario, my family and I are available to care for these babies until they go home ... wherever "home" may be.

This work can be emotionally challenging, too.

Photo by Stacey Natal/Total City Girl used with permission.

This work can be emotionally challenging, too. Some biological parents do not interact with us at all while they're making big decisions, and some end up being very involved. Some text regularly, requesting photos and updates on the baby while the baby is in our care. Sometimes they schedule weekly visits with the babies. One birth mom became such a constant in our life that my son asked if we could bake her cookies.

I am often blown away by the biological parents' gratitude.

Melody* was one of the most beautiful babies I'd ever cared for, and I met her parents a couple of times. When they came to take her home, it was as though she was the only one in the room. When they thanked me for taking care of her, my lip started to quiver.

I had also never met Jibraan's dad, either, when I placed him in his arms the day they went home together. "From the bottom of my heart ... I can't tell you what you've done for me," he said. I remember that he towered over me, the size of a linebacker, clenching his jaw to keep the tears from spilling down his cheeks.

Big smiles and on the phone.

Photo by Stacey Natal/Total City Girl, used with permission.

When I wave goodbye to the social workers at the agency after introducing each baby to their forever family, I always wonder how long it will be before I get to hold another baby.

I don't get attached to each baby, per se. But I get attached to having a baby, to taking care of a baby. I resent my empty arms, and I feel like I've lost my purpose. So each time I see the adoption agency's phone number pop up on caller ID, my heart skips a beat.

When the voice on the other end says, "Hi, Ann ... are you ready to take another baby?" my first thought is, "Baby! I'm getting a BABY!" That excitement lasts for at least 48 hours.

But even as the adrenaline calms down and the sleepless nights begin to take their toll, the experience of caring for each baby proves to be more than enough motivation for me to keep going.

The emotions that swell when my babies go home with any parent — their adoptive parents or their birth parents — are not just because of the emptiness I feel in my arms or even because of the happiness I have for my babies and their families.

The emotions I feel are because of the fullness in my heart and the gratitude I have for being a part of each of these babies' stories, even if it's just for a moment.

This article was written by Ann Lapin and originally appeared on 04.08.16

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Mom causes a stir after saying she won't be doing yearly birthday parties for her kid

“I just don't want a bunch of people sitting around at my house all day...”

Representative Image from Canva

Are birthday parties every year required for kids?

Parents want to do right by their kids. Make them feel special, let them have fun and give them opportunities to enjoy magic before adulthood sets in. And yet, that desire can easily be suppressed by the need to keep up with the lavish events constantly seen on social media.

For many families, over-the-top activities are simply not feasible—especially ones that come year after year like birthdays. So many are going against societal expectations and instead choosing traditions that work for their unique situation. Opting for experiences over expensive gifts, for example, or having one-on-one family time instead of parties with friends.

For Marissa Light, it looks a little more like not even doing a birthday party every year.

“Under no circumstances will I be throwing my daughter a birthday party every single year,” Light said in a now-viral TikTok video. “Here's the deal: She is getting a first birthday party, she is getting a Sweet Sixteen and she is getting a graduation party. Other than that, she is not getting any more birthday parties."

And perhaps Light isn’t totally off-base in her reasoning. According to PBS, kids don’t even remember birthday parties until after they are three-years-old. That’s essentially $400 (the average amount parents spend on their kid’s party) going towards a core memory that won’t even exist.

Light went on to say that she had been to other kids' parties which were “not enjoyable” and she didn’t want to force that experience on others unnecessarily. That being said, she added, “Now look, if you are someone who genuinely enjoys throwing your child a birthday party, pop off, Queen. Do what you want to do. I'm not telling anyone else how to live their lives. I just personally don't find it necessary and I'm not going to be doing it.”

@marissalight It’s been a minute since I’ve given you a #hotmomtake … you’re welcome. #babybirthdayparty #momsoftiktok #momtok #firsttimemom #sahm #momcontent #millenialmom #birthdayparty ♬ original sound - Marissa | Lifestyle | SAHM

But that doesn’t mean that no celebrations will be had. The family will still have “dinner and cake with them every single year,” plus their daughter would get an 'All About You' day” where she would enjoy a “special breakfast” and activities of her choosing, like princess dress up, a trip to the trampoline park, etc. And when siblings come, Light’s daughter will be able to choose whether or not she wants them included in whatever birthday shenanigans are happening. So all in all, a pretty sweet deal.

This option just feels more exciting and less taxing, Light explains. While she understands that party planning is some people’s jam, she admits “it's a lot of stress on my part to organize and plan and put on the party… I just don't want a bunch of people sitting around at my house all day."

Light’s video, as most parenting videos are wont to do, drew both heavy praise and criticism.

Many thought that her choices were depriving her daughter, and not really prioritizing her happiness. This was especially true for adults who didn’t have parties growing up.

“As someone who didn’t get birthday parties, please do that for your kid,” one person wrote.

Another added, “I never had bday parties growing up, and I was always jealous of kids in my class who got them.”

Still, others found promise in the idea.

““An introverted kid will love this. Just make sure that you're celebrating that kid the way they'd like. Not the way you want to celebrate them,” one person commented.

“I LOVE the idea of experiences, so if they want to go to a show or an amusement park for their birthday.”

Some even offered up their own unconventional non-party ideas. One parent wrote, “I just bring my kids to the park with a bunch of cupcakes and any kid at the park is included.”

Whether you can or cannot get behind Light’s take on birthday parties, we can probably all agree that our energy is often best spent doing things we truly want to do. Maybe some parents will still want to arrange a get together for their friends every year. But hopefully this conversation can at least offer some permission to do so in a way that doesn’t take a huge toll. There are so many ways to make a birthday special, after all.

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Did holiday regression turn you into a teenager? Here's how to get yourself back.

Too much time with the family can turn people back into their old selves.

via Ben White/Unsplash

Women experiencing the anguish of the holiday season.

Did you, a reasonable and mature adult, turn into a child around the holidays? You’re not alone and there are ways to feel better and potentially repair any damage caused by the sudden regression.

Perhaps you were at the grocery store with your sibling, going in on the bill for a holiday meal together. One minute, you’re tallying items and the next, you’re arguing about who got more assistance from your parents growing up, and by that, you mean love. If you could stomp across the hall and slam a door in their face, you would, but instead, you have to ride back to your childhood home together in a sensible minivan and return to your spouses and children. Hypothetically, of course.

Or maybe your mom asked you a simple question about her iPhone again, one that you’ve answered a million times, which is easily Google-able, but jeez, why doesn’t she ever listen when you explain? You aren’t her personal Apple Genius.

And if she tells you one more time, there are more cookies in the pantry when you said no thank you and plus, she’s not exactly not the reason you have body image issues to begin with. What is she trying to do? Doesn’t she see how this affects you?

This is normal, apparently. It’s a psychological phenomenon dubbed Holiday Regression.

Around the holidays, the idea is all the sensory cues, from the people you’re around to the smells of home to the feeling of sleeping in your old childhood bedroom, create an environment where it’s incredibly easy to slip back into a younger version of yourself.

“We may have shifted in our adult life because we have new relationships and a new sense of ourselves,” clinical psychologist Lisa Firestone told CNN.com, “but going back for the holidays, being with your parents and sleeping in your old room, that’s what’s going to trigger you and bring back all those old feelings. Not on a conscious level, but it can put you in that frame of mind, and it can put your parents in that frame of mind, too.”

See, it is your parents’ fault!

So, let’s say you lost your cool, and you feel atrocious. Or still angry. What now?

First off, you want to figure out why you reacted the way you did. Is it just holiday stress or more likely, is it old anger or resentment that got triggered?

“We tend to fight with our loved one about the same few things over and over in different forms—content might change, but context rarely does,” clinical psychologist Dr. Jessica L. Dubron told Upworthy.

“I frequently tell patients that people generally stick to their brand and we set ourselves up for disappointment and frustration by thinking that something we say or do will magically change them," she continued.

Okay, fair, but what about those hurt feelings you might be left with? Or maybe a feeling of guilt from overreacting?

“For hurt feelings, simply identifying what happened is important. If this is holiday regression, there is power in recognizing that, honoring that, and sharing what happened with someone supportive. If you feel hurt, let yourself feel exactly that. It’s a physical sensation that will subside if you allow yourself to experience it,” Dubron said.

“Guilt is different in that you may benefit from doing something to make amends. You can’t control how the other person will react, so just think of what you need to do to feel like you’ve taken accountability while at the same time being considerate to the person you feel you’ve hurt," Dubron told Upworthy.

Dubron explains this could look like having an in-person conversation, which she generally feels offers the best chance for communication and repair, or sending a short message in your chosen form of communication if the intensity is still hot. “Keep the message short, sincere, and unequivocal in the accountability you are taking," she said.

If you’re feeling stuck, says Dubron, the key is to “ask yourself, in a year from now, what would you have wanted you now to do? Most of the time, we ultimately don’t want ourselves to die on the hill of any holiday conflict. Letting go is not usually done in an instant. Like forgiveness, it can take time," Dubron added.

Completely sensible and reasonable. Like you!

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