THE NEW YORK TIMES: My friend’s kids are wearing me out, can I say something?

Q: I have a close friend who has two young children whom I’ve been spending more time with lately. The kids are sweet, but I often find myself feeling overwhelmed and drained around them. Their parents divorced two years ago, and their father is emotionally unstable and unpleasant. I know they’ve been through a lot, and I want to be supportive, but I’m struggling.

I’m a mother of two young kids myself, and I’ve noticed that I’m not always comfortable with how her kids interact with mine. There’s a different emotional intensity, and sometimes behaviour that feels a bit unpredictable or rough. I don’t want to judge or pathologize them. I understand they’re doing their best with what they’ve been through, but it leaves me feeling protective.

I also feel guilty for not enjoying their company more. I’m introverted and need a lot of alone time to stay grounded, and being around their constant energy and emotional needs exhausts me. I don’t want to hurt my friend or the children, but I also need to protect my own mental health.

Do I tell my friend her kids are badly behaved? How do I balance compassion with boundaries? Am I a terrible person for not feeling more naturally warm toward these kids?

From the Therapist: You’re not a terrible person for feeling depleted around your friend’s kids. In fact, here’s something many parents find hard to admit: Even under the best of circumstances, being around other people’s children can feel extremely draining.

Sometimes we forget that while our own kids might occasionally be too rowdy or intense or high-energy, their behaviour seems manageable because it occurs in a familiar ecosystem — our own family’s rules, rhythms and emotional climate. We have a shared understanding of the expectations and the systems that keep them in check.

But when another family’s ecosystem enters ours, the differences between their kids and ours can feel disorienting. Sometimes this has to do with gender; on average, boys are rougher and more energetic in their play than girls.

Sometimes it’s about inborn temperament; extroverted and energetic kids might have trouble adapting to a quieter, more subdued environment. And sometimes we just don’t vibe with our friends’ kids — or with the kids our children choose as friends.

For these reasons, we don’t always feel “naturally warm” toward our friends’ kids or our kids’ friends. That doesn’t make you uncaring; it makes you human.

You sound like you have a lot of compassion for your friend and her children, and recognise that these behaviours make sense in context. But so does your reaction, as you grapple with loyalty, protectiveness, guilt and frustration.

That’s why you need to set limits — with both the kids and their mum.

With the kids, remember that since young children tend to be developmentally egocentric, they might not have noticed that your family operates on a different frequency from theirs. So when things get too rough or intense, you can calmly inform them of your “house rules.”

For example: “I know you’re really excited right now, but in our house, we keep our voices quieter. Can you do that?” If they’re getting rough, you can say, “In our house, we need to be gentle with each other’s bodies/the furniture/toys.”

If their emotions are running high, try: “You seem overwhelmed right now. It’s time to take a break. Come sit, and let’s breathe together and stretch our bodies.” (This will calm you down, too.) If they don’t make adjustments, you can be more explicit: “It looks like you’re having trouble being gentle. If you can’t do that today, we’re going to end the visit. You can come back to play when you’re able to be gentle.”

The key here is consistency and follow-through: These are the rules and consequences in our household, no exceptions. To be most effective, make sure your tone comes across as warm rather than annoyed so they feel respected and not judged. (Shame has a way of amplifying difficult behaviours.)

And if your guilt makes you hesitant to set limits with someone else’s kids, rest assured that you get to make the rules in your environment, and kids who are struggling to regulate their emotions actually feel safer when an adult steps in with compassionate containment.

I should mention that all of this applies even if you’re outside your home, like at the park. You’re setting expectations for what’s acceptable in order to be around you and your kids.

Meanwhile, when talking to their mum, consider that what’s deemed “bad behaviour” differs from family to family, so instead of labelling the kids’ actions, share your own experience. You can say: “I like to have calm and quiet in our home and sometimes struggle without it.

When the kids are here, I remind them of this, but I would appreciate your help, too, so that everyone has a better time. Would you be willing to explain to them that calm behaviour is a rule in our home? And would it be helpful if I give an example of what feels overwhelming to me?”

You’re not criticising her kids; you’re simply saying that you have a threshold at which you function best and need it to be respected. You can also set limits on how much time you spend with her kids: “Tomorrow we can have them over for two hours, but then we need to start dinner/run errands/have family time. Can you pick them up at 5 pm?”

While you might find communicating your needs to be challenging at first, the more you practice, the easier it becomes. I know you want to be there for your friend, but boundaries don’t mean disconnection.

They’re the bridge between your needs and your relationships. The best way to support your friend and her children is by making it possible for you to show up for them, and you can’t do that if your nervous system is frayed.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

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