Parents spend years looking forward to the next stage, convinced it will be easier. The truth is a little more complicated.

Every year my family goes to a cottage for a week. It’s nostalgic (we’ve been going to the same little beach town since I was a kid), hilarious, fun, exhausting and—with six kids ranging in age from three to 18—chaotic. My girls are in the middle of the cousins, at ages 11 and 14. We’ve been here for five days now, with one more to go. (I’m always so sad to leave and so ready to sleep in my own bed when it’s over.)

Yesterday morning, my nephew, the youngest of our crew, was melting down over wanting to pull the wagon we had packed with a picnic to take down to the water. He could not be reasoned with. My sister, who is extremely patient with her son on the whole, looked at me, exasperated. I slung my arm across her shoulder and started to say, “Don’t worry, it gets easier,” but then I stopped. I ended up saying, “Don’t worry, it gets…different.”

Every Stage Has Its Own Hard

The more I think about it, the more I wonder if this is a parenting truth we don’t talk about enough. With every age and stage, the challenges change, but they never completely disappear. So, sure, eventually kids will (probably) accept whatever colour cup you give them and they’re (probably) not going to freak out about having to wear socks, but they will deal with playground heartbreak, friendship drama, school struggles, real heartbreak…all the way up to career changes and relationship setbacks.

How the Heavy Lifting Changes

In my experience (so far), the physical aspects of early parenting—nursing, diapering, lifting kids in and out of car seats, folding and unfolding strollers, etc.—give way to emotional, intellectual and philosophical support. Both can weigh on you, but in vastly different ways. When my girls were infants, I fretted over milk supply, tummy time and hitting milestones. Now that they’re a tween and a teen, I lie awake thinking about their mental health, what they’re struggling with at school and how to answer the hard questions they ask (often late at night, right as I’m closing my eyes). More than anything, I wonder whether I’m doing enough to support them and help them grow into the women I know they’ll become.

Be the Lighthouse

I thought about this all afternoon before mentioning it to my mom as we sat on the beach late in the day, supervising the bigger kids in the water. She chuckled and said, “It never goes away, Kat. And it shouldn’t. Because your job as a parent, no matter how old your children are, is to be the lighthouse. When they’re little, they’re close to the shore, and you can scoop them up at a moment’s notice. But when they’re big, they’re way out in the water and they just need to know you’re there.”

I joked and said, “And sometimes you have to get out in a boat and go get them?”

And she said, “Well, yes. There are hard moments in every season. When you were getting divorced, I wanted to save you so badly. But all I could do was make sure you knew exactly where Dad and I were, and that we would get in a boat whenever you needed us. And you were in your 30s with children of your own!”

(Yes, I teared up. And I know exactly how she felt.)

I can’t tell if this is good news or a difficult thing for new parents to realize. Because if you’re in the thick of a difficult stage, you want to know that there is an end. And there is. It really does get easier. But then, eventually, it gets hard again—just in a different way. The trick is to keep shining your light

How to Ask For—and Offer—Help

One thing this realization has reminded me of is that, while every stage of parenting comes with its own challenges, none of us is supposed to carry them alone. Whether you're parenting a newborn, a school-ager or a teenager, sometimes the most helpful thing you can do is ask for support—or offer it.

If you're asking for help:

  • Be specific. Instead of “We're fine,” try, “Could you pick the kids up from soccer this week?” or “Can we talk tonight? I'm having a hard day.”
  • Tell people what would actually help. A meal, an hour of childcare, a school pickup or simply someone to listen are all reasonable things to ask for.
  • Accept help when it's offered. You don't have to earn a break.
  • Remember that asking for support isn't a sign you're failing. It's a sign that you’re human.

If you're supporting another parent:

  • Skip the comparisons. “Just wait until they're teenagers,” or “You'll miss this someday” rarely makes someone feel better in the moment.
  • Name the help you can provide. Ask, “Would bringing you a lasagna or coming over to mop the floors make this week a little easier?” instead of “Let me know if you need anything.”
  • Show up in practical ways. Drop off dinner. Offer to drive to hockey. Take the kids to the park. Fold a basket of laundry while you chat.
  • Listen without trying to fix everything. Sometimes people need advice. More often, they just need to know someone understands.
  • Keep checking in after the hard period has passed. That's often when people feel most alone.

A version of this article appeared in a 2026 issue of the ParentsCanada The Full Story newsletter. Sign up for free here.