Clingy kids - and how to get them to un-cling

2 hours ago
5 min read

Ever entered an event: birthday party, workshop, new classroom with your child and noticed they suddenly became "clingy"?

You give a nervous smile (conscious that you are being closely watched by other adults) and brush their behaviour off with a "oh my child child is so shy", "i don't know why they aren't joining in" and proceed to peeling your child off of your leg, followed by a gentle push and a word of encouragement: "go on, join the other children".

Your behaviour is well-meaning. After all you want to be the proud parent of a brave, independent small human. But actually what your child needs in that moment is very different.

Let me illustrate this with a story about a near-death experience climbing up Table Mountain in South Africa and what the one thing every human needs in a new circumstance is not what you are currently doing...

Because when you understand this one shift - this one mindset shift - you’ll show up for your child in a completely different way.

You’ll understand what they feel when they’re entering new territory - transitioning from the womb to the world, starting nursery, walking into a new classroom, facing big changes.

And more importantly, you’ll know exactly how to be the steady, confident guide they need to feel safe, secure, and connected - no matter what life throws at them.

Let’s dive in, shall we?

A few years ago, together with my sister, Katie, we hiked up Table Mountain in South Africa. At the park entrance, a large sign greeted us: “Enter at your own risk.”

"How hard could it be?" - we brushed the warning off and with a sense of confidence & bravado and proceeded to embark on the hike.

The trail started out clearly. But after just a few meters, the path all but disappeared.

The route was barely marked - an arrow here or there, every few hundred meters.

And then, halfway up, a thick cloud rolled in.

Suddenly, we couldn’t see anything.

Not the sky. Not the trail. Not even the tips of our fingers. Oh yeah, and there was no phone reception either.

We were completely alone. No signposts. No one to follow. No one to ask. Just us -surrounded by fog, with no idea if we were even taking steps in the right direction....

We desperately searched for proof of civilization - that someone had been on this path before us. We found a discarded mars-bar wrapper, an orange peel...- and hung on to them as though our lives depended on them.

After hours of fumbling in the fog, water supplies running low, we started wondering: is this where we meet our end?

Eventually, the cloud lifted, and we miraculously found our way to the top.

But that moment stayed with me - not because we were physically in danger (well sort of...I am sure someone would have found us eventually), but because we had lost the ability to orient ourselves.

We had no guide. No signposts. No points of reference. No reassurance.

And that was terrifying.

How our children orient themselves

During my last maternity leave - after giving birth to my third child - I kept returning to that hike.

Because this time I truly understood: This is what it must feel like to be a newborn entering the world.

Everything is new for them. Everything is unknown.

They can’t yet make sense of what they see, hear, or feel. They have no internal compass. No map. No arrows. No sense of who they are or where they are in the vastness surrounding them.

Except for you. The one and only thing they have known since their very beginning.

Your baby already knows your voice, your smell, your heartbeat. You are their first guide, signpost and safety.

As early as birth, newborns recognize and prefer their mother’s voice and smell. One groundbreaking study by DeCasper & Fifer (1980) found that newborns, within hours of being born, already show a clear preference for their mother’s voice - a voice they’ve heard in the womb. That tells us: you are already their point of reference in a noisy, unfamiliar world.

And this continues well beyond the newborn phase. Decades of research in attachment theory - especially the work of John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth - shows us that babies use their caregiver as a secure base from which to explore the world, and a safe haven to return to when they feel overwhelmed.

In Ainsworth’s famous Strange Situation study, babies placed in an unfamiliar room instinctively looked for their caregiver’s presence to determine whether everything was okay.

Your child is doing the same - every day, in new environments and in unfamiliar routines.

You’re not just their comfort - you are how they interpret the world.

And here’s the part we often forget: Just because the baby phase ends doesn’t mean your role as their guide does. Nope.

You will continue being their Sherpa - for the next 24 years.

That’s how long the human childhood period is considered to last.

Your presence, your steadiness, your attunement - it still matters, more than you realize.

So every time your child enters a new environment...A new routine. A new baby class. A new friendship group. A new social dynamic. Meets a new teacher - anything new, really (and let’s face it, for kids, every day is a learning day) - they might feel excited on the surface... but inside, there’s often a quiet undercurrent of disorientation.

Remember how that feels? The fog on the mountain? Not knowing the rules, or what’s expected, or how to find your footing?

That’s what it’s like for them. Even just entering into a classroom with different carpet can throw them off (!!)

And in those moments - you are still their constant. You are the one they look to - consciously or unconsciously - to figure out:

Am I safe? Can I relax? Is this okay?

You are their compass. Their calm in the storm.

You don’t need to be perfect.You just need to be present.

Take Action (Do this today):

Ok, so The next time your child is about to experience something new - even something small - I want you to do this: pause for just 10 seconds and ask yourself:

“How can I be their compass right now?”

That might mean:

Slowing down your pace.
Getting down to their level and making eye contact.
Labeling what’s new and unfamiliar: “This is a new classroom. It smells different, huh? Let’s take a look around together.”
Or simply offering your hand and saying, “I’m right here with you.”

Try it once - and notice how it transforms not just your child’s reaction, but your own. Because when you feel more grounded and intentional, they will too.

Remember, remember, remember:

Be your child’s safe place. Their anchor. Their guide.

It’s one of the greatest privileges - and responsibilities - we’ll ever have.

Here's to raising smarter, more confident & resilient children - and more often than not, it starts with you.