They saw the boats. They saw the brown line on the wall. They know this isn’t a fun indoor day.
You don’t need a speech. You need a few true sentences and a next thing to do. “The water came in. We’re safe. We’re going to Grandma’s / the shelter / the hotel.”
If you’re about to cry, that’s allowed. Just don’t make them hold your panic.
Do this now
- Give the facts in one or two sentences. Name where you’re sleeping tonight.
- Let them take one small thing that’s still dry if you can grab it safely.
- Keep a scrap of routine: same stuffed animal, same snack, same song in the car.
- If your own stress is spiking, step outside and call 988 or Disaster Distress at 1-800-985-5990. Don’t unload the claim fight on them.
- Answer the question they asked, not the one you fear they’ll ask later.
What kids in Houston already understand
A lot of them have heard Harvey stories from older cousins. Some have been through school closures and “meet at the high ground” drills. Treat them like people who can handle a simple truth. Don’t invent a monster, and don’t pretend the house will look the same tomorrow. If a sibling is missing for an hour in the chaos, say you’re looking and who is with whom.
Questions that sound small and aren’t
“Are we poor now?” “Is the dog dead?” “Will school flood again?” Short answers. Money is tight, we’re figuring it out. The dog is with Tia. School will tell us. If you don’t know, say you don’t know and when you’ll check. Kids fill silence with worse stories than the bayou.
When you need backup
If a kid stops eating, can’t sleep, or keeps replaying the water, that’s not you failing. It’s a reason to loop in a pediatrician or school counselor when those offices reopen. Tonight, warmth, food, and one calm adult beat a perfect talk. 988 is for you too if you’re the adult who’s shaking.
Verify live. Status changes hourly. If anyone is in immediate danger, 911. For your own spike, 988 or Disaster Distress 1-800-985-5990.