Parenting can be tough.
I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know everything, but after raising kids and now tagging along behind grandkids on park paths, I’ve had a front-row seat to the way certain well-meant habits can backfire.
Some of these behaviors feel loving in the moment.
They reduce tears today and they keep the peace at dinner, but years down the line?
They can leave kids anxious, brittle, or quietly resentful.
On Artful Parent, we care about raising creative, capable kids—that includes giving them the psychological room to become resilient, honest, and self-directed.
Below are seven common habits that seem helpful in the short term but often leave children frustrated with us later.
I’ll weave in what research suggests and what I’ve learned the long way around.
If you’re a regular reader, you may remember I once wrote about building strong foundations for children; think of this as the companion: What not to do if you want your child to grow into a sturdy adult.
1) Bubble-wrapping them from every challenge
When your child struggles, every instinct says, “Jump in!”
I’ve caught myself tying shoes a nine-year-old could tie, emailing teachers about problems my child could sort, and intercepting playground squabbles that would’ve fizzled with time.
Children build resilience the same way muscles grow—through manageable strain and recovery.
Shielding them from all difficulty strips away the “micro-workouts” the brain needs to learn coping.
In psychology, we call this stress inoculation—gradually facing small, tolerable challenges so the nervous system learns “I can handle this.”
When we fix everything, kids can quietly resent us for two reasons.
First, it sends a message that we don’t trust them to cope.
Second, it deprives them of the pride that comes from figuring out the hard thing.
Years later, they remember the hovering more than the help.
2) Never letting them take responsibility
Picture this: Your child limps home from soccer, blaming the ref, the wind, and a shoelace conspiracy for the loss.
It’s tempting to nod along, I mean, we love our kids and we want to be on their side.
However, when we always locate the problem “out there,” we teach external locus of control: The belief that life happens to me, not through me.
Over time, that belief fuels helplessness and—yes—resentment toward the people who never insisted we look in the mirror.
Accountability is not shaming—it’s skill-building.
Ask curious questions: “If you could replay that five minutes, what would you try differently?”
Notice how those questions keep dignity intact while nudging agency.
Children who learn to own mistakes develop grit and are more likely to try again.
They also grow up less angry at parents because they don’t feel managed; they feel mentored.
At our house, we made a simple rule: We can talk about what others did after we identify one thing we’ll do next time.
It keeps the focus where power lives.
3) Overemphasizing achievements
A few weekends ago, one of my grandkids sulked through our walk because his team got knocked out early from a local tournament.
I told him what I wish I’d told my own kids more often: “Losing a game doesn’t define you. How you treat your teammates when you’re disappointed—that tells me who you’re becoming.”
When we celebrate only visible wins—grades, goals, ribbons—children learn that love spikes with performance.
Psychologists call it contingent self-esteem.
The danger is predictable: When the applause fades, the self-worth wobbles.
Kids resent the scoreboard pressure because it reduces them to outcomes.
Ironically, it also hurts performance; anxiety narrows attention and makes learning brittle.
The antidote is emphasizing process and character: Effort, strategy, kindness, persistence, and creative risk-taking.
By all means, clap at the recital but save your biggest compliments for the quiet virtues that never trend on social media.
That’s the kind of praise kids can carry into adulthood without resenting the source.
4) Stifling their emotional expression
When I was a young father, “Boys don’t cry” slipped out of my mouth more than once.
I wince thinking about it now.
We think we’re toughening kids when we wave off tears or label normal anxiety as “drama.”
What we’re actually doing is teaching emotional suppression, which research links to higher stress, weaker relationships, and—later—anger toward the people who told us our feelings were wrong.
Kids don’t resent boundaries around behavior—throwing toys isn’t okay.
They resent the message that certain feelings are unacceptable to show around us.
That alone breeds distance.
5) Using fear and intimidation as disciplinary tools
I’ve raised my voice, and you probably have too.
The problem isn’t a single shout; it’s a climate of fear—yelling, shaming, unpredictable punishments—that may win short-term obedience but corrodes long-term trust.
Kids learn to hide mistakes rather than discuss them.
They comply when watched and rebel when not; they don’t feel safe enough to bring you the big stuff later.
Authoritative parenting—the style consistently associated with the best outcomes—pairs warmth with clear limits.
Consequences are consistent, explained in advance, and directly tied to the behavior as they teach skills, not just compliance.
It’s amazing how much resentment evaporates when kids feel respected, even in discipline.
6) Micromanaging every aspect of their lives
I’ve been guilty of this one: Scripting schedules, selecting hobbies, and editing projects until the child’s work looks like mine.
We do it because we want to help; we also do it because it’s faster.
However, micromanagement steals two psychological nutrients children desperately need: Autonomy and competence.
Self-determination theory—the fancy name for a very human truth—tells us that people thrive when they feel they have some choice, some mastery, and someone who has their back.
When we over-direct, we may get short-term neatness but long-term resentment.
Our kids eventually think, “You didn’t trust me,” or “My choices never counted.”
Start where it’s safe: Let a five-year-old pick between two outfits, let a ten-year-old choose which instrument to try, or let a fourteen-year-old plan the weekend breakfast.
Then honor the choice—even when it’s not what you’d pick—so they can experience ownership from start to finish.
Offer guidance, not takeover.
My favorite line is, “Want feedback, or just my applause?”
7) Neglecting your own mental and emotional well-being
Kids learn more from the way we live than from the lectures we give.
If we’re constantly frazzled, sleep-starved, and snapping at the slightest mess, but we never model rest or repair, children absorb the lesson: adulthood means depletion.
That breeds resentment in two directions.
First, they resent the tension they grew up swimming in.
Second, they resent the invisible rule that self-care is selfish—because they’ll carry it, too.
The most generous thing we can do for our families is to take our well-being seriously.
That might mean counseling when anxiety crowds the day, a walk after dinner that’s non-negotiable, or saying no to one more obligation so bedtime isn’t a battlefield.
I keep a simple ritual with my grandkids: we take “quiet minutes” on the park bench before we head home.
We breathe together, we listen for birds; it’s not fancy, but it’s contagious.
Seeking support isn’t a weakness but, rather, seeking support is leadership-in-the-making.
Closing thoughts
I’m still figuring things out myself, but here’s what I know: When we trade control for coaching, fear for fairness, and outcomes for effort, kids flourish—and the parent-child bond stays warm.
Bit by bit, they fail, they try again, and they build the kind of inner strength that makes life’s storms survivable.
Which one habit will you experiment with changing this week?
