Last year, we visited close friends who have a daughter named Sage. She’s about ten months older than my daughter Evani, who is three. Since we stayed with Sage’s family for a few days, the girls had the rare opportunity to spend extended, unstructured time together—something young children don’t often get.
At first, they were quietly curious about each other. But before long, that curiosity turned into easy companionship. They dressed each other up, bathed together, and delighted in what felt—at least to them—like an endless slumber party.
Sage also loved spending time with my boys, watching them push boundaries and attempt things she hadn’t yet considered possible (or allowed). There was a sense of awe in her observations—one that reminded me how much children learn simply by being around other kids.
When Attachment and Friendship Don’t Line Up
When it was time for us to leave, Sage was sad and blurted out, “I want to come with you.”
In that moment, I wished I had more days to give her. Instead my kids and I gave her a big hug.
Life moved on, and I assumed we might simply fade into the background—a fond memory of friends who once visited. Instead, the girls continued to think about each other. Sage drew pictures of a flower baby named Evani. Evani wanted to invite Sage to her birthday. They both asked for video calls.
So I thought it would be fun for Evani and I to take a girls’ trip to visit Sage.
Big Feelings in a New Setting
There was plenty of excitement—and a few nerves—leading up to the trip. But the moment the girls were reunited, it was as if no time had passed. The car filled with peals of laughter.
That first night, Sage assumed Evani would want another slumber party and sleep in her bed. But Evani made it clear she missed home—her brothers, her daddy—and needed to sleep with me.
The next morning, Sage burst into our room, eager to start the day together. I felt a kindred spirit in her enthusiasm; I had been that child once—the one who loved having people in the house.
Throughout the day, the girls played happily. But Evani began asking when we were going home. I explained we would be there a few more days. That night, Sage invited Evani to sleep with her again. Again, Evani declined.
Understanding a Three-Year-Old’s Perspective
On the third day, I tried to gently understand what was behind Evani’s resistance.
“I want to be with you,” she said simply.
In Evani’s eyes, this trip wasn’t just about seeing Sage—it was also precious one-on-one time with mommy. And so she continued to say no.
I understood Evani’s need, but my heart ached for Sage. When I suggested she might like to sleep with her two friendly dogs, she replied, “I want to sleep with people.” Which, honestly, made perfect sense.
On our second-to-last night, Sage said quietly,
“Evani, you have slept with me no nights.”
It’s hard to hear words like that. Being three is hard.
Evani didn’t fully grasp Sage’s sadness, but she stayed firm in her desire to sleep with me. I tried to help Sage make sense of it—explaining that Evani was still young, that new environments can feel overwhelming, and that maybe if her dad and brothers had been there, she would have felt more at home.
I also told her that as Evani got older, she’d likely be more interested in sleeping with friends instead of mommy.
I don’t think Sage felt completely satisfied—but she didn’t dissolve into tears either. I hope she felt heard, and that she left with something to look forward to: another visit, another chance, and maybe someday, a real slumber party.
Why We Didn’t Push Them
What felt especially important was that neither I nor Sage’s parents forced the girls to be together in ways they weren’t ready for.
We recognized that in moments like these, there will often be one child who feels disappointed. That discomfort is real—but it doesn’t mean it needs to be “fixed” immediately.
These dynamics are incredibly normal in young children. They’re learning how to express their needs, how to set boundaries, and how to tolerate disappointment—all at the same time.
As adults, our role is to stay steady and allow space for those lessons to unfold, even when the moment feels awkward or emotionally charged.
What This Taught Me About Emotional Development
Before Sage left for daycare on our final morning, she gave Evani and me big hugs—an unmistakable sign of love and connection, even after the hard moments.
Children are remarkably resilient, especially at this age.
Moments like these remind me that emotional development in early childhood isn’t about getting kids to agree or comply. It’s about helping them:
- recognize their own feelings
- communicate those feelings clearly
- and slowly learn to respect others’ needs, too
That growth rarely looks neat—but it’s meaningful.
A Reflection for Parents
Where is your child learning to express their needs right now?
And how are you supporting that growth—even when it feels uncomfortable, disappointing, or unresolved?
If this story resonated with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts. You can share in the comments, save this post for later, or pass it along to another parent navigating big feelings with little kids.