My kids discovered the Netflix baking show Nailed It while searching for a family movie. As the auto-preview rolled, they were instantly captivated. Although I enjoy the show, I doubted it would capture the interest of my eight-year-old and my six-year-old twins.
For those unfamiliar, the concept involves three amateur bakers attempting to replicate extravagant cakes crafted by professional pastry chefs. The results are often hilariously disastrous, showcasing a side-by-side comparison of the intended masterpiece and the reality. My kids adore the vibrant energy of host Nicole Byer and love the wacky cake designs. Yet, what truly draws them in? Watching three adults fail gloriously at their baking endeavors.
It’s important to clarify that my kids aren’t reveling in a mean-spirited way when a cake’s frosting eyes slide off, resembling a melting mannequin. Instead, they seem to express a sense of empathy and gratitude while witnessing others—who appear competent—fall short.
I understand that allowing our children to encounter failure is crucial for their development. If we swoop in to save them every time, they miss out on building problem-solving and creative thinking skills. Constantly aiding them can undermine their confidence and diminish their desire to tackle challenges independently. Experiencing setbacks teaches resilience, and I aim to raise adaptable, determined kids.
Yet, watching them struggle can be heart-wrenching, especially when tantrums arise. It’s tough to refrain from intervening as their frustration mounts. I feel compelled to comfort them when they face disappointment, but I know my role isn’t to shield them from every difficulty; it’s to remind them they’re not alone in their struggles.
My children recognize that I’m available when they need me, but they also feel the weight of my gaze as I wait for them to ask for assistance. This dependency creates a sense of being scrutinized. They often feel embarrassed by my presence, even when I’m not interfering. Simple tasks like dribbling a ball, tying shoelaces, or solving puzzles can cause immense frustration for them. When they observe me effortlessly accomplish these tasks, it’s hard for them not to compare their abilities to mine.
During our family Mario Kart sessions, my oldest daughter often becomes disheartened, convinced she’s terrible at the game. When she finishes in a low position, she channels her frustration toward me, believing I haven’t taught her properly. I remind her that improvement requires patience and practice, but she’s usually not interested in that explanation. Kids often seek solace in shared frustration rather than lessons on perseverance.
The contestants on Nailed It serve as a source of comfort for my kids. When I point out my own last-place finish in Mario Kart, their spirits lift. While my daughter loves to win, she finds reassurance in knowing others—like the Nailed It bakers—struggle too. I realize that comparison isn’t the ideal way to measure success, but it can help nurture confidence in a friendly competitive environment.
Children understand the disappointment that comes from wanting to excel in art or sports, only to fall short due to inexperience or a lack of skill. We as adults can relate—it’s frustrating.
I don’t conceal my own frustrations from my kids. I openly share when I can’t solve a problem or when I make a mistake. I emphasize that being wrong is part of learning. I’m quick to reassure them that my distress isn’t directed at them. Sometimes they let me navigate through my struggles alone, but other times they offer their help. Their perception of themselves as helpers boosts their self-esteem and fosters empathy.
When my oldest daughter needs assistance, she often fears judgment and assumes others will perceive her as incompetent. However, when she helps me, I express gratitude and reinforce that seeking help is not a sign of weakness. It’s simply part of the learning process.
Messing up is proof that I’m trying. If I want my children to embrace their own challenges, they need to witness my imperfect attempts.
In summary, Nailed It has unknowingly provided a valuable lesson for my family. Observing the ups and downs of others can foster empathy and resilience in my children, reminding them—and me—that we are all in this together.
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