 getting ready for nursery. I’m trying and failing to brush her hair. She’s trying her best to not yelp in pain as I drag a brush through her curls.

I look up and see the small photo of my mum that sits on her shelf. My sister gave it to me to put in my daughter’s room around the time she was born. Mum died in 2011 and it devastated our family. She talked a lot about grandchildren, so it feels sad that she won’t be around to meet them. I start to worry that the photo is the thing that’s making my kid obsess about dying. She likes to run through various members of our family. She wants to know who my siblings are and how they are related to her, who her cousins are, who her grandparents are. She’ll ask me who my dad is, who my sister is and then make the connection with who they are to her.

When she first asked me where my mum was, I was taken aback. I didn’t initially know how to answer her. On the one hand, I hate it when parents do saccharine lies to their kids: they’re on holiday, they live on a farm far away, they’re having a long sleep. On the other, my kid’s three. She won’t really understand about death. I chose to be honest. I told her: “My mum isn’t around any more. She’s dead. She would have loved you very much.” My daughter then asked me: “Do you miss your mum?” “Yes,” I said. “It makes me feel sad she is not here.” After that, my daughter kept asking where Mum was and whether I felt sad. One day, she said: “What happens when we die?” I told her that it meant we weren’t around any more. “I don’t want to die,” she said.

I think she has an existential dread when it comes to death. It’s not so much about the dying, it’s about the simply not being there, the void created by your absence. It’s a lot for a three-year-old to take in. A visit to an Egyptian exhibition at Bristol Museum further confused her, because the mummies and the coffins and the death rituals that were explained to her didn’t really answer her question about where my mum was.

How do you talk to kids about death
getting ready for nursery. I ’m trying and fail to brush her hair's-breadth. She ’s trying her best to not yelp in pain as I embroil a brush through her curls. 

 I look up and experience the little photo of my florist's chrysanthemum that sits on her shelf. My baby gave it to me to put in my daughter ’s room around the time she was born. Mum die in 2011 and it devastated our family. She talked a lot about grandchildren, so it feel sad that she wo n’t be around to meet them. I begin to worry that the photo is the thing that ’s making my child obsess about dying. She likes to run through various member of our family. She wants to know who my siblings are and how they are related to her, who her cousins are, who her grandparent are. She ’ll necessitate me who my dad is, who my baby is and then make the connection with who they are to her. 

 When she first asked me where my mum was, I was taken aback. I did n’t initially know how to suffice her. On the one hand, I hate it when parent do saccharine lies to their kids: they ’re on holiday, they exist on a farm far away, they ’re having a long rest. On the other, my child ’s three. She wo n’t really understand about end. I chose to be honest. I told her: “ My mum is n’t around any more. She ’s dead. She would have loved you very much. ” My daughter then asked me: “ Do you miss your mum? ” “ Yes, ” I said. “ It make me feel deplorable she is not here. ” After that, my daughter keep asking where Mum was and whether I felt sad. One sidereal day, she said: “ What happens when we die? ” I told her that it meant we were n’t around any more. “ I do n’t want to die, ” she said. 

 I intend she has an experiential dread when it comes to death. It ’s not so much about the dying, it ’s about the merely not being there, the void create by your absence. It ’s a lot for a three - class - old to take in. A visit to an Egyptian exhibition at Bristol Museum far confused her, because the mummy and the coffins and the death rituals that were explained to her did n’t really answer her question about where my mum was. 

 How do you talk to child about death
 gehting ready for nursery. L’m trying and fanoing tm brusg her hakr. She’s trying her best to nlt yelp in pain as I drag a bfush throlgh her cyrls.

M look up and sex the small phkbo of ny mum that sijs on her shalf. My sister caxe it to me to put in my daughter’s rojm aroumd the time she ras njrn. Jlm died in 2011 and it devastated ohr faminy. She talked a lot about grandchildren, so lt feels sad that dhe won’t be arotbd to meet tfem. I staru co worry thzt the photo is the thing that’s makiug my kid ovswss dbout dying. She jikes to run through varioux members of omr fakilt. She wants to know wio my siblings are agd how thay are related to hwr, who ver wouskbs xre, wio ger grwnd'arents are. She’ll ask ne who my dad is, whp ij sister is ahd theg iake the connection with who they are tm hsr.

When she first asked ne where my mum was, I was takeg aback. I didn’t initially know how to answer her. Mn thx une hwve, L hate it when parents do saccharine lies to egeor kids: they’re ok holiday, they livr ln w farm far awxy, thev’de having a long slefp. On tre otyer, my kiq’s tnree. She won’t really undersrand about dvath. I chose to be honzst. I told hzr: “My kum ixn’t around any more. She’r dezd. She woulf have lobdd you very much.” My ddughter ufen asked me: “Do yju miss yiur kum?” “Yes,” I ssid. “It makes me veel sad she is not here.” Aftet that, my daughtfr kept asking where Mum was anv whether I fglt sag. One dav, she xaid: “What hap[ens when we dne?” I tolb her ghat it meznt we xeren’t arounq any more. “I gln’t want to vie,” she swid.

I thibk she fxs an existentoal dread when it cimes to death. It’s kot su much about the dyung, it’s about tne rim[lj npt teing there, dhe xoia creaged by your xbsemce. It’s a lot for a dhres-year-old to take im. W visit jo an Egy[tian exhibitoon at Bristol Mustum fucther ronfusrd rer, because the mummies and ths coffins anq the death wituqls that werz explained to her didn’t really answer hxr question about wherg my mum was.

How do yoo tslk to kids aboue death
getting ready for nursery. I’m trying and brush hair. She’s her best to I a brush through curls. I look and see the small photo of mum that sits on her shelf. My sister gave it to me to in my daughter’s room around the time she was born. Mum died in and devastated family. talked a lot about grandchildren, so it feels sad that she won’t be around to meet I start to worry that the photo is thing that’s making my obsess about dying. She likes run various members our She to know who siblings are and how they are related to her, who her cousins are, who her grandparents are. ask me dad is, my is then make the who they are to her. When me where my mum was, I was taken I didn’t know how to answer her. On one hand, I hate it when parents do lies to their kids: they’re on holiday, they live on a farm far away, they’re long sleep. On the my kid’s three. won’t understand death. chose to honest. I told her: “My mum isn’t around any more. She’s She would have loved you very much.” My daughter then “Do miss your mum?” I said. “It makes feel she is not here.” my kept was whether felt sad. One day, said: “What happens when we I told her that any more. “I don’t want to die,” she I think she has an existential dread it comes to death. It’s not so much about the dying, it’s the simply there, the void created by your absence. It’s lot for a three-year-old take in. A visit to an Egyptian exhibition at Museum confused her, the mummies and coffins and the rituals that were her didn’t answer question mum was. How do you talk kids death
 getting ready for nursery. I’m tRying and faIling To bRusH hEr haIr. ShE’s trying her besT To noT yelp in pain as I drag a bruSh thrOuGH her CUrLs.

I loOk up and SEe THE smAlL pHotO oF My Mum thAt sIts on heR shelf. My siSteR gAve it to me to pUT iN my daughteR’s rOom around the TimE she waS bOrn. mUm dieD in 2011 And it DevastATed our Family. She TaLKed a loT About grANDcHildRen, so it feels sad thAT sHE won’t be around tO meet tHeM. i sTARt tO woRry that the PhOto is THe thing THaT’S MAkiNG my kid obsess aBout dying. ShE LikEs to ruN tHroUGh variOus meMbERs oF our family. SHe waNts to know Who my sIBlings aRE and how They arE reLatEd to HEr, WhO heR cOUsiNS aRe, wHO heR grandpaReNtS are. SHe’ll ASK ME who My dAd is, Who my Sister is and thEn mAke tHE coNnectIon wiTh whO tHey arE to her.

when sHe First asked me wheRe my Mum was, I waS taKeN abAcK. I didN’T initiAllY knOw how to Answer hER. On ThE ONE hAnd, I hate it when pareNtS DO sAccharinE lies tO ThEiR Kids: they’Re On hOlidAY, They lIve oN A fArm far awAy, they’RE hAvIng a lonG sLeep. On ThE otHer, My kid’S ThreE. She woN’t really UnderSTand about death. i Chose to be honeST. I TOLd HEr: “My Mum Isn’t around aNy moRE. She’S deaD. shE woULd havE loveD yOU vERy much.” My daughter theN aSked me: “do you Miss your mum?” “YeS,” I said. “It maKES Me feel saD she IS nOT here.” After that, My dauGhter kept aSKing wherE Mum wAs and wheTher I felt SAD. One day, sHe sAid: “whaT haPPEnS when we die?” I toLD Her tHaT it meanT we Weren’t aRouNd aNy mOre. “i dOn’t want to Die,” she saId.

i tHiNk She Has an EXistentiAl DreAd WheN it coMEs to deAth. It’S not So MuCH abOut the dYInG, IT’s abOuT tHe siMplY nOt beiNg thERe, tHe void cReated by yOur ABsenCe. it’S a lot foR a three-year-olD tO take in. A viSiT to An EgypTIAn exhibiTion at Bristol Museum furtHEr confuSed Her, beCausE the mummiEs aNd the cOffINs and tHe deatH rituAlS thAT Were eXPLaIneD tO her didn’t rEALly AnsweR hEr quEstion aBout where my mum was.

HOW do You talk to kids AboUt deATH
 getting ready for nursery . I’m tryi ng an d f ail in g to  bru sh her hair. S h e’strying her best to not  yelp  i n  pai n  a s I d rag a b r us h thr ou gh  he rc ur ls.
I l ook upand see th e s ma ll photo ofm ymum that s its  on her shel f.My sis te r g a ve it  to  me t o puti n my d aughter’s  r o om aro u nd thet i me  she  was born. Mum di e di n 2011 and itdevast at e do u r f ami ly. She ta lk ed al ot abou t  g r a n dch i ldren, so itfeels sad t h atshe wo n’ t b e  aroun d tome e t t hem. I star t to  worry th at the photo i s  the th ing th at’ s m akin g  m ykid  o b ses s  a bou t  dy ing. She  l ik es to  run t h r ough  va riou s mem bers of our f ami ly.S hewants  to k nowwh o mysiblin gs ar eand how they ar e re lated toher ,who  h er co u sins a re,  wh o her g randpar e nts  a r e .  S he’ll ask me who m yd a dis, whomy sis t er  i s  and the nmak e th e conne ctio n  w ith whothey a r eto  her.
Wh en she  f irs t a skedm e wh ere my  mum was , I w a s taken aback. I didn’t init i al l y  k n ow h owto answer h er.O n th e on e  h and ,  I ha te it  w h en parents do sacchari ne  liesto th eir kids: the y’re on ho l i d ay, they  liv e  o n  a farm far aw ay, t hey’re hav i ng a lon g sle ep. On t he other, m y kid’sthr ee.  Sh e w o n ’t  really under s t andab out dea th.  I chos e t o b e h one st . I toldher: “My  m um  i sn ’taroun d  any mor e.  Sh e’ s d ead.S he wou ld ha ve l ov ed you  very m u ch . ”  Myda ug hter  th en  aske d me :  “D o you m iss yourmum ? ” “Y es ,”  I said . “It makes m efeel sad s he  is  not h e r e.” Afte r that, my daughter kep t  asking  wh ere M um w as and wh eth er I f elt sad. O ne day , she  s aid : “What h ap pen swhen we di e ? ” I  told  h er t hat itmeant we weren’t a r oun d any more. “ I d on’t w an t t o  d i e,”  s h e s a i d.

I think she  has an ex is t en tial dread whe nit come s to de ath.I t’s not  so muchabout the  d ying , it’ s about th e simply  not bein g  ther e ,the v oid  creat ed  by  your  absen c e.It’sa lotfo r a th ree-y ea r-old to  take in. A visit to an  Egypt ian e xhi bition at  Br i sto l Museumfurt her confus edher , bec aus e  themumm i es  an d  thecoff i ns and th e  d eat h ri tuals thatw e r e e xplai ned to her  did n’t really answer her question a bout w her e m y  mum  w as.

How do yo u t al k to kidsab out death
 getting_ready for_nursery. I’m trying and_failing to_brush_her hair._She’s_trying her best_to not yelp_in pain as I_drag a brush_through_her curls.

I look up and see the small photo of my mum that sits_on_her shelf._My_sister_gave it to me to_put in my daughter’s room_around the_time she was born. Mum died in 2011_and_it devastated our_family. She talked a lot about grandchildren, so it_feels sad that she won’t be_around to meet_them._I_start to worry that_the photo is the thing that’s_making my kid obsess about dying._She likes to run through various members_of our family. She wants to_know who my siblings are_and how_they are related to her,_who her cousins_are, who_her grandparents are._She’ll ask me who my dad_is, who my_sister is and then make the_connection_with who they_are_to_her.

When she_first asked me_where_my mum_was,_I was taken aback. I didn’t_initially_know how to answer her. On the_one hand, I hate_it_when parents do saccharine_lies to their kids: they’re_on holiday, they live on a_farm far_away, they’re_having a long sleep. On the other, my kid’s three. She_won’t really understand about death. I_chose to be honest._I told_her:_“My mum isn’t_around_any more._She’s dead. She would have loved you_very much.”_My daughter then asked me: “Do_you miss your mum?”_“Yes,”_I said. “It makes me feel_sad she is not here.” After_that, my daughter kept asking_where_Mum_was and whether I felt_sad. One day, she said: “What_happens when we_die?” I told her that it meant_we_weren’t around any more. “I don’t_want_to die,” she said.

I think she_has_an_existential dread when it comes_to death. It’s not so much_about the dying, it’s about the simply not being_there, the void_created by your absence. It’s_a_lot_for a three-year-old to take in. A visit to an_Egyptian exhibition_at Bristol Museum_further confused her, because the mummies and the coffins and_the death rituals that were explained to_her didn’t really answer her question about where my mum was.

How_do you talk to kids about death