Confessions from Two Child Development Experts
The long list of mistakes and what we would do differently
Thanks for reading Raising Good Humans on Substack! My first book, The Five Principles of Parenting: Your Essential Guide to Raising Good Humans is now available for purchase here.
As child development experts, Dr. Tina Payne Bryson and I spend so much time supporting parents as they navigate the complexities of, well, raising good humans! But even though we have a lot of content knowledge as experts in our field, we are also constantly falling short in our own parenting. In this week’s episode of the Raising Good Humans podcast, Tina and I had a conversation about times when our reactions as mothers didn't quite align with our professional recommendations. We're human, and these "messes" are not only inevitable but also crucial for growth and building resilient relationships with our children.
The shame so many of us feel from hard parenting moments, though painful, is a sign of reflection and growth. If we never felt bad as parents, it would mean we aren't reflecting or growing. Our ability to reflect on these missteps is evidence of providing secure attachments for our children (reminder that REFLECTION is one of the Five Principles of Parenting).
Fail number one: losing your temper
Tina shares a common scenario - the slow build-up of patience until, in a flash, the "lid flips" and sanity goes out the window. She recalls a time when her three-year-old, Ben, hit her. Trying to implement a "time-in," she started with gentle, almost cheesy, pronouncements about hands being for loving, not hurting. Ben, utterly unfazed, hit her again. Escalating her approach, she tried to move him to a "time-in" spot, only for him to hit her once more. As her composure evaporated, she found herself yelling, shaking her finger, and then, after Ben stuck out his tongue, she completely lost it. "If you stick that tongue out one more time, I'm gonna rip it out of your mouth!" she threatened. Ben, collapsing in tears, delivered the humbling blow: "You didn't make a good choice." Tina immediately melted, apologized, and repaired the moment.
What she would have done differently: Tina wishes she had paused, been more curious about the "why" behind Ben’s behavior (attention? hunger? frustration?), and addressed the hitting directly but briefly. "No hitting, hitting hurts," coupled with empathy for his feelings, and then followed by a quick pivot to a new activity, would have shifted the focus away from her reaction and back to his behavior. The key, she realized, was setting a limit much earlier instead of letting the situation escalate.
Fail number two: parenting to an audience
My older daughter, just about three at the time, was acting out at a friend's small birthday party. She was generally compliant, and I wasn’t used to this behavior. Feeling the eyes of others on me, I leaned in and whispered to her, with what I knew was a terrifying calmness, "You are embarrassing me." The immediate change in her demeanor confirmed the impact of my manipulative, gaslighting tactic. To this day, I speak to my daughters about this moment, emphasizing that their behavior is not a reflection of me. I deeply regret letting the perception of others outweigh my child's needs. She’s 18 now and I am still thinking about it.
What I would have done differently: My do-over would have been to remove us from the situation, saying, "It looks like this party is really overwhelming. Maybe we need to go sit somewhere and just get a little space from everybody." This would have prioritized my daughter’s own needs, rather than concerns around my own ego. This concept of "parenting to an audience" is a significant discipline mistake. We often prioritize how others perceive us over what our child genuinely needs.
Fail number three: doubting the power of repair
One of the most profound lessons about repair came quite recently. My daughters were being nasty to each other at dinner, and my older one said something I perceived as hurtful to my younger one. I completely lost my cool. I yelled, and it escalated into a full-blown brawl where I said some things I regretted. From this awful moment, I stormed into my room and fell into a shame spiral, convinced I had caused irreparable damage to our relationship, especially as she nears the end of her time at home before college. I called my husband, despairing, and he gently reminded me of what I would tell someone else in this situation: repair.
After what felt like an eternity, my daughter walked into my room and, with incredible emotional intelligence, simply said, "You're probably wanting to make some repairs right now." I was stunned. "I am, I am," I confessed.
What I would have done differently: This moment was a powerful affirmation - repair is real. Our strong foundation meant that my mistake, while significant, didn't stick. She recognized it as "mom going crazy," not a reflection of my love for her. This is the beauty of "reps" – the countless positive interactions that build a resilient relational account, making a single withdrawal less impactful.
Fail number four: letting our own baggage get in the way
Tina, as a child, learned to ride a bike later than her younger sister, which was an embarrassing experience for her that she still remembers. This personal history of anxiety and shame resurfaced when her son, Ben, who was also tentative and slow to try new things, struggled with learning to ride his bike. Tina found herself shaming Ben, telling him that all his friends were already riding, which was a direct reflection of her own past embarrassment and fear. This moment highlights how parental fears and insecurities, even those from childhood, can lead to fear-based parenting and inadvertently shame a child.
What she would have done differently: Tina now recognizes this as an "intergenerational transmission" of her own shame. Instead of letting her own history get in the way, Tina would have taken a moment to name and recognize what was being triggered in her, and refused to allow her parenting to be overcome by fear. Instead, she would have shared a story from her past with her son, and given him the space and time he needed to learn to ride a bike.
What can we learn from these "confessions"?
Repair, repair, repair. Reconnection is key. If you're not ready to genuinely connect (because you're still in threat mode), wait. Repair isn't just about saying "I'm sorry"; it's about re-establishing your authentic and safe connection. Sometimes it's non-verbal – a hug, a shared laugh, or playful self-deprecation.
Get curious, not ashamed. Instead of dwelling in shame, get curious. What triggered your reaction? Is there a theme? Understanding what gets in the way of being the parent you want to be allows for reflection and problem-solving. This self-compassion is vital, as shame makes us more vulnerable to repeating mistakes.
Laughter is healing. Laughing at ourselves, and with our children, can be a powerful repair tool. It injects lightness and humor into tense moments, fostering connection and mutual understanding.
Acknowledge fear-based parenting. Many regrettable reactions stem from underlying fears – often irrational ones. Identifying these fears can help us step back and respond more thoughtfully, preventing the intergenerational transmission of our own insecurities.
Share. Talking about your parenting missteps with trusted friends or your partner is incredibly relieving and normalizes the experience. It allows for self-reflection and helps us feel more human and connected to other parents.
Set boundaries earlier (or be flexible). Understand your own capacity and limits. If your patience is limited, set firm boundaries early to protect everyone. Conversely, if you have bandwidth, be flexible and reconsider initial limits. The goal is thoughtful responses, not rigid adherence.
Give yourself permission to wait. Unless there's imminent danger, you don't have to address every behavior in the moment. It's perfectly okay to say, "I really need to think about how I want to address this. We'll talk about it later" - or event to decide not to discuss it at all. Not every moment needs our full attention, and correcting every behavior can be too much.
The moral of the story? Parentings is inherently messy. There will be moments of frustration, anger, and even shame. But instead of hiding from these mistakes, we can reframe them as powerful opportunities for growth, learning, and strengthening of our family bonds. We can focus instead of building enough reps of positive moments with our kids to support a strong foundation. They count for A LOT.
A quick reminder to buy my first book, The Five Principles of Parenting, and write a review from wherever you order. Reviews really help to get the book noticed, and to spread the word. Please especially rate and review any books purchased on Amazon (it shockingly really, really matters!). Also, when you receive the book, snap a quick pic with it and post on social media. Share one thing you love about it and help me to get more copies into the hands of parents in your community. Tell a friend about the book, or about something you found helpful in the book. Parents look to each other for advice, and I’d love to be a part of the support you pass on to your loved ones.
Thank you @Dr. Aliza Pressman, hard parenting moments are inevitable, and feeling shame or guilt means our ego is working and that we can examine and grow from our missteps.
This one was so great. Thank you both for sharing!