MicroStep: Read the Car

Here’s 1 moment, 1 pattern, 1 MicroStep, and 1 question for you this week.

1 MOMENT

When you just want them to have fun - and, well, er, get better too.

The car ride home after the game.
The tryout that didn’t go well.
The performance that fell apart in the second half.

Your kid climbs in, buckles up, and stares out the window.

And your brain starts running the highlight reel — or the lowlight reel — and you have thoughts.

Maybe you lead with encouragement: “You looked great up there!”

Maybe you go straight to feedback: “What happened in the third quarter?”

Maybe you try to fix the feeling: “Don’t worry, there’s always next time.”

And somehow, no matter what you say, the window gets thicker.

1 PATTERN

Here’s what’s happening in that car.

Your kid just spent the last hour or two being evaluated — by a coach, by parents, maybe their classmates. Their nervous system is either buzzing with adrenaline or quietly absorbing a disappointment they don’t have words for yet.

And then they get in the car.

And the person they love most starts the debrief.

Even when the words are kind, the message can land as: how you performed is what I’m thinking about right now.

We don’t mean it that way. But when stress hits, we don’t rise to the level of our intentions — we fall back on our patterns, our wiring.

And most of us were wired to respond to performance.

To fix, encourage, analyze, or comfort. All of it performance-focused.

The problem isn’t that we care. The problem is that our kid can’t yet tell the difference between “I’m reviewing your performance” and “I’m reviewing you.”

1 MICROSTEP

Before you say anything — read the car.

If it was a good day, lead with presence: “I love watching you play.”

That’s the whole sentence. No “but.” No “next time.” Just that.

If it was a hard day — a bad tryout, a rough recital, a moment they know didn’t go well — sometimes the most powerful move is to bite your tongue.

Not because you don’t care. Because you do.

Either way, you'll have thoughts — real ones, hard ones, ones that you are dying to express. And sitting on them. That's the work.

And that's what LATER is for. Later for feedback, later for encouragement, later for the conversation they might actually be ready to have.

The car ride home is rarely the right moment for any of it.

Your only job right now is to be the one place where their worth isn’t up for review. I see you. I’m not going anywhere. And I’m choosing not to make this worse.

1 QUESTION

What do I usually say in the first 60 seconds of the car ride home — and what am I really communicating?

Plan it.
Try it.
And let me know what happened!

Mary
Creator, the MicroStep Method®