How a Hand Puppet Helps me Parent

I’m not sure if this is a universal experience, but for the last year or so it seems like people just aren’t responding to my messages the way they used to pre-COVID. Either they get back to me immediately, like within seconds, or never, and I’m left with this feeling of emptiness mixed with total understanding. I get it, everyone is busy, we all have too much work and too little time. We’re balancing full-time parenting with full-time jobs and full-time anxiety about all the problems and grief in the world.

It’s not just them, it’s me too. Our collective bandwidth is bursting and sometimes there just isn’t the energy to respond to anything or anyone. In an effort to do better, I now make a point to look through my messages once a week to see who I forgot to respond to. I’m surprised by the quantity of my forgetful neglect, because while I often fail to respond in real life, I always respond with a long and detailed exchange in my imagination. In honor of these imaginary exchanges, I wanted to bring you a special guest to my blog today, one that brings me utter and complete joy, never avoids my messages, and, to be honest, is central to my survival as a parent. Let me introduce you to Hand-Meow.

The thing about Hand-Meow is that I’ve come to rely on her/him/them more than she’ll ever know. Just this morning I was getting Otto, my 7 ½-month-old dressed in his snowsuit for a walk, when, predictably, his complaints started to edge toward full on cries. My shushes and songs fell flat and I could feel myself getting a little anxious when suddenly, Hand-Meow popped into the scene with his soothing, squeaky voice and said, “Hi, it’s me Hand-Meow,” and Otto immediately started smiling and then even giggling when Hand-Meow tickled his belly. Hand-Meow helped me put Otto in his stroller and instead of protesting, he smiled and promptly fell asleep and Hand-Meow curled up next to him for his morning nap-walk.

Hand-Meow can ask kids questions, like how was your day at school? And get real answers, like, it was good and we ate rice and avocado for snack but some of the kids don’t like avocado but some do. Holden, my 3-year-old, talks to Hand-Meow about skateboarding, feelings, like being sad or scared, and they tell each other jokes.

Hand-Meow has saved us countless times on car rides, comforting the kids when they’re sad, and on more occasions than I can count, he’s turned cries into laughter. He’s also taught the boys about hide-and-seek and peek-a-boo, how to play at the playground and he’s traveled extensively, always willing to comfort or entertain in airplanes, rental cars and grocery stores, where he also remembers to buy the best snacks.

Hand-Meow frequently goes on vacation. He doesn’t want the kids to rely on her too much, so when he senses frantic dependence instead of relaxed camaraderie, he takes a break, re-emerging when he notices that us parents are on the receiving end of over-dependence. In this way, we’re a real team, each playing our part so that everyone gets to be the best version of themselves on any given day, in any circumstance.

Enjoy this short video with Hand-Meow and let me know in the comments if a puppet, alter-ego (Max is POTOMOUS), or other animate or inanimate character helps you parent.