Remember that feeling when your parents said “no” to something everyone else was allowed to do? I spent years convinced my parents were the strictest people on the planet.
Now, with muddy handprints on my walls and two little ones testing every boundary I set, I finally get it.
Those rules that seemed so unfair? They were love wrapped in structure. And now I find myself enforcing the exact same ones, watching my daughter’s face crumple the way mine once did, knowing she won’t understand until she’s standing where I am now.
1) No eating in front of the TV
Growing up as the middle child, I watched my friends balance plates on their laps during Saturday morning cartoons while I sat at our kitchen table, staring longingly at the living room. My mother insisted we eat at the table for every single meal. No exceptions.
I thought she was being controlling. Why did it matter where we ate?
Fast forward to last week: I watched my 5-year-old daughter actually taste her food for the first time in days because we turned off the tablet at dinner. She noticed the sweetness of the carrots. She asked questions about how I made the soup. We talked about her day at preschool instead of staring at a screen.
Those family dinners I resented? Even though our conversations stayed surface-level back then, we were together. We were present. My mother wasn’t trying to make our lives harder. She was trying to make us slow down long enough to connect.
2) Early bedtimes, even on weekends
Eight o’clock bedtime on a Saturday night felt like social suicide when I was nine. All my friends stayed up until ten or eleven, and there I was, brushing my teeth while they were just starting the good movies.
But here’s what I see now that I didn’t then: My mother noticed everything. She saw when I got cranky, when I couldn’t focus, when small frustrations became major meltdowns. And she knew exactly what I needed, even when I fought her on it.
These days, when my 2-year-old starts throwing blocks instead of stacking them, I know he needs sleep. When my daughter melts down over her socks feeling “wrong,” I check the time. Almost always, they’re overtired. That strict bedtime wasn’t about control. It was about giving us what we needed to feel good in our bodies.
3) Limited screen time that felt prehistoric
One hour of TV per day. That was the rule, and I thought my parents were living in the stone age. How was I supposed to keep up with what everyone was talking about at school?
Want to know something funny? My parents think my approach to screens is too strict. But I’ve seen what happens when my kids get too much screen time. They fight more. They whine more. They lose interest in the sandbox and the art supplies and the dress-up clothes.
That one-hour rule forced me to find other things to do. I built elaborate worlds with my siblings. I read books that transported me places no TV show could. I learned to entertain myself, a skill that serves me every single day as an adult.
4) Chores before fun, always
Saturday mornings meant cleaning before anything else. No playing, no TV, no meeting friends until our rooms were clean and our chores were done. I remember standing in my messy room, overwhelmed and angry that everyone else was already at the park.
Now I watch my daughter carefully sort her art supplies before we go outside, and I see the satisfaction on her face when she finds exactly what she needs later.
Teaching kids to handle responsibilities first isn’t about being mean. It’s about giving them the gift of a clear mind and the ability to fully enjoy their free time.
Plus, there’s something to be said for learning early that fun feels better when you’ve earned it. My 2-year-old puts his blocks away before we read stories, and even at his age, he’s learning that sequence of responsibility and reward.
5) No meant no, even when I begged
My mother never wavered once she said no. Not after five minutes of pleading. Not after an hour. Not even when I pulled out the “everyone else’s parents let them” card. I thought she was heartless.
Do you know how exhausting it is to stay firm when your child is sobbing because they can’t have ice cream for breakfast? Every fiber of your being wants to give in, to see them smile, to be the fun parent.
But kids need to know where the walls are. They need to trust that when you say something, you mean it. It makes them feel safe, even when they rail against it.
When I tell my daughter no, and I stick to it despite her protests, I’m teaching her that the world has boundaries and that she can trust my word.
6) Thank you notes for everything
Every birthday, every Christmas, we sat at the table with my mother hovering nearby, making sure we wrote thank you notes. Real ones, with specific mentions of the gifts and why we appreciated them. I thought it was the most pointless exercise in the world.
Last month, my daughter dictated a thank you note to her grandmother for a book she’d sent. She told me all the reasons she loved it, how the pictures made her laugh, how she wanted to read it every night.
The joy in her grandmother’s voice when she called after receiving that note? That’s when I understood.
My mother wasn’t teaching us about obligation. She was teaching us to notice when people think of us, to acknowledge kindness, to complete the circle of giving and gratitude.
7) Family came first, no matter what
Missing a friend’s party for a cousin’s birthday. Staying home from the school dance because my grandmother was visiting. Having to include my younger sister when my friends came over. I thought my parents were sabotaging my social life.
But family is the long game. Friends from elementary school have faded, but my siblings are still here. We still show up for each other. That foundation my parents forced us to build? It’s holding strong through adult challenges I couldn’t have imagined as a child.
When I see my daughter helping her little brother with his shoes, even though she’d rather be playing, I remember my own resistance to including my younger sister. And I remember how she became one of my closest friends, despite my childhood protests.
Final thoughts
The truth about strict rules is that they’re exhausting to enforce. It would be so much easier to let my kids eat wherever, stay up late, skip the thank you notes. Every “no” takes energy I don’t always have.
But love isn’t always soft and permissive. Sometimes love looks like structure. Sometimes it looks like boundaries. Sometimes it looks like being the bad guy now so they can be healthier, happier humans later.
My parents weren’t perfect. There are things I do differently, things they shake their heads at when they visit. But those rules I thought were so unfair?
I finally see them for what they were: My parents loving me enough to do the hard thing, even when I hated them for it.
And now, when my daughter storms off because I won’t let her have candy before dinner, I think about my mother standing firm in our kitchen all those years ago. I get it now, Mom. I finally get it.
