When I instruct my 4-year-old with directives like, “Don’t crash the skateboard into your younger sibling,” or “Please leave the cushions on the couch,” he often juts out his bottom lip and accuses me of being unkind. On his more measured days, he expresses that he dislikes my words. Yes, he takes offense at my parenting, which is frustrating since I strive to discipline in gentle, respectful manners.
Four years ago, I embraced the principles of attachment parenting, believing it was essential to respond to my child’s every need. This approach promotes co-sleeping, extended breastfeeding, and baby-wearing, essentially allowing the child to dictate the flow of family life (just kidding, sort of). In this mindset, a child’s cries signal distress that the parent must alleviate.
This nurturing philosophy was heartwarming until I found myself utterly exhausted, feeling lost in my role as a parent. I yearned for personal space and autonomy when my child wasn’t attached to me. I wanted the freedom to leave the bed without stealthily crawling away, hoping my little one wouldn’t wake up and demand immediate attention. While I wanted to be responsive to my son’s needs, I also recognized the importance of prioritizing my own.
Gradually, I began to establish boundaries. Embracing mother-led weaning and sleep training was liberating! However, with these new ideals came the necessity to accept more crying, which required a mental shift in how I perceived my children’s tears. I now understand that being a firm parent with high expectations often results in moments of unhappiness for my child, which can be tough to handle.
There are times when I feel tempted to concede simply to avoid his disappointment. Yet I firmly believe that allowing him to confront his emotions is a vital aspect of parenting. I don’t want my children to suffer unnecessarily, but I also recognize that there’s value in experiencing and expressing sadness.
This past summer, when my 3-year-old fell while running on the sidewalk and began to cry, I offered him ice, a Band-Aid, or animal crackers. He declined all of these, simply stating, “No, I just want to cry.” I realized then that tears can be therapeutic, helping to release stress and improve mood. Crying is a natural response, not just to physical pain, but to emotional distress as well.
With this understanding, I feel less compelled to rescue him from his negative feelings. While I will always support and comfort him, I have learned not to let his disappointment deter me from enforcing rules, redirecting behavior, or setting limits. Protecting him from negative emotions does not equate to kindness; instead, I should provide him with opportunities to navigate and cope with them.
When I say no, I accept his emotional responses because I know that permissiveness does not foster a happy child or a healthy parent-child relationship. Children thrive when they understand that their parents are capable leaders. There will be times he resists this, and I have been labeled a “Mean Mommy,” but I know he ultimately benefits from feeling secure. Deep down, he craves boundaries; he needs to trust that I will keep him safe.
Respecting my son doesn’t mean treating him as my equal. I provide him with choices, but they are within a framework of what is reasonable. For instance, he doesn’t get to choose his bedtime, but he can decide whether he wants to read one book or two. He doesn’t dictate dinner options (candy is not on the menu!), but he can choose how much he eats. I used to grant him too much freedom in the name of respect.
Now, when I tell my children no—like “No, you can’t break the crayons” or “No, you can’t have another episode”—I recognize that their tears are a natural expression of their feelings. Allowing them to cry shows my acceptance of their emotions rather than bending the rules to keep them endlessly happy. I used to confuse empathy with shielding my kids from negative feelings; now, I understand that empathetic parenting means acknowledging their reactions without rescuing them or punishing them.
Setting boundaries also involves letting them express their disappointment. I’ve learned to say, “You’re upset; it’s okay to be mad, but you need to express it in your room or outside. Once you’re done, we can talk and hug.” I want my son to accept his feelings, but I won’t allow myself to be a punching bag. I can say, “You can be frustrated, but you must speak to me respectfully.”
Recognizing why my son behaves a certain way is different from condoning inappropriate behavior. While my role is to love and care for him, it’s equally crucial to teach him appropriate responses to his emotions. Children can easily use emotions to manipulate, but by being comfortable with his tears, I diminish his ability to do so.
I have become more confident in saying no, realizing that there were instances when I hesitated too long, resulting in frustration. Just yesterday, he asked for a specific shirt and soccer socks (which I can never seem to find). He also wanted to wear his cleats and shin guards. Feeling overwhelmed by my morning tasks, I reminded myself, “Don’t seek to please him just to avoid a meltdown. Just say no.”
I strive to say yes to my son whenever I can, but only when I genuinely feel comfortable. I now say no to communicate authentically. I value authenticity over mere niceness and want my son to learn the same. By respecting myself and establishing boundaries, he learns to consider his own needs as well.
I once believed I had to keep my son happy at all costs, but I now recognize that his challenges often present valuable growth opportunities. By standing firm, I convey trust, and that’s the essence of respectful parenting. I say no because I care about both his well-being and my own.
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Summary:
In this article, a mother reflects on her journey from attachment parenting to establishing boundaries through the art of saying no. Initially overwhelmed by her child’s needs, she learned to navigate their emotions while fostering respect and independence. By accepting her child’s feelings without yielding to manipulation, she creates a nurturing environment that encourages emotional growth. Ultimately, she values authenticity over mere niceness, understanding that both her well-being and her child’s development are paramount.