There are so many parenting “rules.” It can be a lot. There’s always another thing we’re told to say, not say, or avoid entirely. And there are many of these “rules” I don’t completely follow. 

Don’t say “good job.” Don’t say “be careful.” Don’t force your child to say sorry. Validate before you redirect. And somewhere in the middle of all that advice, it can start to feel like good parenting depends on having the right sentences ready at exactly the right moment. 

I understand where a lot of this comes from. Specific praise can help kids notice their effort. Telling a child why something is dangerous gives them more useful information than “be careful.” We want apologies to eventually come from empathy.

I use plenty of those strategies myself. 

But, I also say “good job.” I tell my kids I’m proud of them. I’ve used rewards. I encourage them to share in certain situations, and occasionally yell “BE CAREFUL” because they’re doing something that makes every cell in my body react before I have time to formulate a more developmentally sophisticated sentence.

I don’t think those moments tell you very much about the kind of parent someone is. There are other things I care about a whole lot more.

I don’t hit or spank my child, and I don’t use fear, humiliation, or shame as discipline. I don’t force affection or require them to clean their plate. I don’t tell my son not to cry because he’s a boy or expect Vera to be quieter because she’s a girl, or excuse behavior with “boys will be boys.” I try very hard not to turn behavior into an identity by calling a child picky, difficult, dramatic, shy, or “the one who never listens.”

I also don’t personally use traditional time-outs. When my kids are dysregulated, I’ve found it more useful to stop what needs to stop, help them regulate, and come back to the teaching once their brains are ready to understand. That doesn’t mean I put an appropriately used time-out in the same category as spanking or humiliation. It’s just not a tool I generally reach for in my own parenting.

Those are the easy lines for me to draw. What I think about much more is what I want my kids to learn from the way I parent every day.

I want to correct the behavior without deciding who my child is

Kids give us plenty of behavior to correct. Mine certainly do.

What I try to pay attention to is the story that gets attached to the behavior, because children hear how we describe them long before we realize they’re listening.

There’s a big difference between saying, “You didn’t listen when I asked you to stop,” and “You never listen.” A child can refuse every veggie on their plate one night without becoming the picky one. They can have a big reaction without becoming so dramatic.

When children hear the same descriptions of themselves over and over, those descriptions can start to become part of how they understand themselves. This is true for adults too. Even positive labels can create pressure. If you’re always “the smart one,” what happens when something feels hard?

I’d rather talk about what I’m seeing right now and leave room for my kids to change.

That’s also why fear and shame don’t make sense to me as teaching tools. I can be very clear that a behavior isn’t okay without embarrassing my child, frightening them, or making them feel bad about who they are. Discipline gives us thousands of opportunities to show kids how people handle mistakes, frustration, conflict, and accountability, and they’re learning as much from those moments as they are from whatever consequence I give.

This is probably one of the most important distinctions in my parenting. My kids are allowed to be angry with me. They can cry when I say no or be disappointed when something ends. And they’re quick to let me know when they think a decision is unfair. I want them to have a voice in our family, and as they get older, I want them to get better at using it.

Having a voice doesn’t mean having the final vote.

I can listen to why my child thinks bedtime should be 45 minutes later and still decide bedtime is staying exactly where it is. They can be upset when I put on sunscreen before spending the day at the pool. I don’t need to make the feeling disappear before I’m allowed to hold the boundary.

Validation can be really useful here, and I use it often. If saying, “I know you wanted to stay longer” helps my child feel understood and move along, great…But I don’t think validation needs to become a script we have to perform before every redirection.

Some kids want more words when they’re upset, while some get more dysregulated the more we talk. There are also moments when I need to stop something immediately because someone is throwing something or doing something unsafe. I can address the behavior first and understand the feeling later.

For the same reason, I’m not quick to say, “You’re okay” or “No need to cry.” Even when I know my child is physically okay, they may not feel okay in that moment. I don’t need to convince them otherwise. I can give the feeling a little room without treating every tear like an emergency.

Co-regulation fits into this too. Children learn how to regulate partly through being around regulated adults, but that doesn’t mean I need to be physically attached to my child or narrating every emotion until they calm down. Sometimes co-regulation looks like a hug, or sitting nearby, or just saying very little and giving them space. It’s not always the same either. 

The child in front of me, on any given day, gets to help determine which one they need. 

I don’t force my kids to hug or kiss someone because that person asked. I can teach kindness and manners without teaching my child that keeping another adult happy requires affection. They can say goodbye, wave, or give a high five.

Of course, bodily autonomy has limits when I’m responsible for keeping a child healthy and safe. My kids don’t get to opt out of a seat belt, necessary medical care, or brushing their teeth because they’ve thoughtfully exercised their autonomy. Parenting would get very strange…very quickly.

What I want them to learn is that when physical contact isn’t necessary, their comfort with their own body deserves respect.

Food is another place where I think about this. I don’t require a clean plate because I want my kids to practice noticing whether they’re hungry or full. I still choose what foods are available and continue offering new foods or foods they don’t like (yet). 

But I can’t feel their stomach for them. 

One night they might eat 3 bites. The next, they might eat enough food that I think I’ll have to start doubling the recipe. Their appetite changes, and learning to notice those changes is something I want them practicing now.

I talk a lot about regulation, and I still yell sometimes. We’re only human, right? 

There have been moments when I’ve been overstimulated, frustrated, exhausted or asked for the same thing 100 times and gotten much louder than I wanted to. I’m not talking about raising my voice. I mean the moments after where I know I lost my cool. 

I repair those. And one thing I try very hard not to do is make my child responsible for my reaction during the repair. “I’m sorry I yelled, but you weren’t listening” sounds like an apology, but what my child hears is that my yelling happened because of them. I’d rather own my part clearly: “I was really frustrated, and I yelled. I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”

We can still talk about their behavior. Maybe they ignored me 12 times, hit their sibling, or something else that they need to take responsibility for too. Their behavior and my reaction are two separate things, and I want them to learn that each person owns their piece.

This is also why modeling is SO important. I can tell my kids to apologize, use respectful words, take a deep breath, or take accountability all day long, but eventually they’re going to notice whether the grown-ups around them do those things too.

They get to watch me get it wrong and come back. I know there is a lot of value in that. My kids aren’t being raised by someone who handles every situation beautifully, because that’s just not realistic. They’re being raised by someone who expects accountability from them and is willing to practice it. 

I share scripts because they can be incredibly useful. Sometimes you’re in the middle of a hard moment, and it helps to have a place to start.

I just don’t want scripts to become the point. If I understand why I’m doing something, I have a lot more flexibility when real life doesn’t look like the Instagram example. I can ask myself whether I’m holding a reasonable boundary, whether my child is looking for connection, needs more words or less, and whether I’m modeling the same respect and accountability I expect from them.

Then the exact sentence can change.

We can have thoughtful conversations, and sometimes it might sound more like, “If you don’t want to walk up the steps, I can help you,” because bedtime has been going on 20 minutes longer and we’ve already negotiated enough.

Sometimes I’ll give a specific safety cue or exactly what I want them to notice. Other times, they do something that makes my stomach drop, and “Be careful!!” is all that comes out.

That’s why I care less about getting every phrase right and more about what I’m trying to teach in the moment. Once I know that, the exact words can change.

That’s the stuff I’m paying attention to.

I care a lot more about what my kids get from me over time. They know that I’m listening, that I’ll still lead, boundaries don’t disappear, and that I can be firm without making them feel bad about themselves.

And when I don’t handle it the way I want to, I want them to see me own that too.

I don’t want parenting advice to make us so afraid of saying the wrong thing that we lose trust in ourselves. If my kids grow up knowing they can have big feelings, hear no, make mistakes, speak up, repair, and still feel deeply loved in our family, I’m not going to lose sleep over the fact that I sometimes say “good job.”

Dr. Mona will answer these questions in a future Sunday Morning Q&A email. Chances are if you have a parenting concern or question, another parent can relate. So let's figure this out together!