Nobody hands you a manual when you become a parent. You figure it out as you go, borrowing bits from how you were raised, picking up tips from friends, and hoping for the best. Most of us muddle through reasonably well.
But here’s what I’ve noticed after decades of watching families, including my own. The parents who struggle most aren’t making big, dramatic errors.
They’re making small, almost invisible ones. Tiny missteps repeated so often they become invisible. The kind of mistakes that feel like normal parenting until you step back and realize they’ve been quietly undermining everything you’re trying to build.
These aren’t character flaws. They’re blind spots. And the good news about blind spots is that once you see them, you can do something about them.
1) Talking at children instead of with them
I used to do this constantly. My kids would come home from school, and I’d launch into a string of questions. How was your day? Did you finish your homework? What did you eat for lunch? It felt like engagement. It wasn’t.
Talking at children means treating conversations as interrogations or lectures. You’re extracting information or delivering instructions, but there’s no real exchange happening. The child learns that conversations with you are something to endure, not enjoy.
Talking with children looks different. It means sharing your own thoughts and actually being curious about theirs. It means comfortable silences. It means letting them lead sometimes, even when the topic seems trivial to you.
Research from the American Psychological Association consistently shows that children who feel genuinely heard by their parents develop stronger emotional regulation and self-esteem.
Try this: next time you’re with your child, share something about your own day before asking about theirs. Watch what happens.
2) Solving problems they should struggle with
When my grandson was learning to tie his shoes, it took everything in me not to just do it for him. Watching a child struggle is uncomfortable. Your instinct screams to step in and fix it.
But struggle is where growth lives. When we constantly rescue our children from difficulty, we send a clear message: I don’t think you can handle this. Over time, they start believing it.
This doesn’t mean abandoning them to figure out everything alone. It means learning to sit with your own discomfort while they work through theirs. It means offering support without taking over. “I can see this is frustrating. What have you tried so far?” is very different from “Here, let me do it.”
The parents who struggle often have children who struggle too, not because of genetics, but because they never learned that struggling is survivable. That it’s actually the path to competence.
3) Using guilt as a motivator
“After everything I’ve done for you…” Sound familiar? Guilt is a tempting tool because it works in the short term. Children will comply to escape that awful feeling of having disappointed you.
But guilt is corrosive. It doesn’t teach children to make good choices. It teaches them to avoid getting caught making bad ones. It breeds resentment and anxiety. And it damages the trust between you.
I’ve mentioned this before, but the difference between guilt and accountability matters enormously. Accountability says, “Your actions have consequences, and here they are.” Guilt says, “Your actions make me suffer, and you should feel bad about that.” One builds responsibility. The other builds shame.
If you find yourself reaching for guilt, pause. Ask yourself what you actually want your child to learn from this moment. Then find a way to teach that directly.
4) Expecting consistency from inconsistent brains
Children are not small adults. Their brains are literally under construction. The prefrontal cortex, the part responsible for impulse control, planning, and rational decision-making, isn’t fully developed until the mid-twenties.
Yet we expect children to remember rules perfectly, control their emotions reliably, and make sensible choices consistently. When they fail, we get frustrated. We think they’re being defiant when they’re actually being developmentally normal.
As noted by Dr. Dan Siegel, a clinical professor of psychiatry at UCLA, understanding brain development transforms how we interpret children’s behavior. That tantrum isn’t manipulation. That forgotten homework isn’t laziness. That impulsive decision isn’t stupidity. These are features of a brain still learning to regulate itself.
Adjusting your expectations doesn’t mean lowering your standards. It means meeting your child where they actually are, not where you wish they were.
5) Prioritizing obedience over connection
Obedient children are easier to manage. They follow rules, do what they’re told, and don’t cause scenes in public. It’s no wonder so many parents make obedience their primary goal.
But obedience without connection creates a fragile relationship. Children comply because they fear consequences, not because they trust your guidance. The moment they’re old enough to push back, they will. And you’ll have no foundation of mutual respect to stand on.
Connection doesn’t mean being permissive. You can have boundaries and warmth. You can enforce rules and still make your child feel valued. The key is ensuring your child knows that your love isn’t conditional on their compliance.
Ask yourself honestly: does your child obey you because they respect you, or because they’re afraid of you? The answer matters more than you might think.
6) Comparing siblings or peers
“Why can’t you be more like your sister?” “Your friend Jake never gives his parents this much trouble.” These comparisons feel like motivation. They’re actually poison.
When you compare children, you’re not inspiring them to improve. You’re telling them they’re not enough as they are. You’re setting up rivalries that can last decades. You’re teaching them that your love is a competition they’re currently losing.
Every child is running their own race. They have different strengths, different challenges, different timelines. The child who struggles academically might have emotional intelligence that will serve them beautifully in life. The one who can’t sit still might have energy that becomes entrepreneurial drive.
Your job isn’t to rank your children against each other or against the neighbors’ kids. Your job is to help each one become the best version of themselves. That requires seeing them as individuals, not as contestants.
7) Neglecting your own needs entirely
Martyrdom is surprisingly common among struggling parents. They give everything to their children and keep nothing for themselves. No hobbies, no friendships, no rest. They wear their exhaustion like a badge of honor.
But depleted parents make poor decisions. They lose patience faster. They model an unsustainable way of living. And their children grow up believing that adulthood means self-sacrifice to the point of misery.
Studies on parental burnout show it leads to emotional distancing, neglect, and even thoughts of escape. Taking care of yourself isn’t selfish. It’s necessary maintenance that allows you to keep showing up for your family.
What would it look like to reclaim just one hour a week for something that fills your cup? Start there. Your children will benefit from having a parent who isn’t running on empty.
8) Avoiding difficult conversations
Death. Divorce. Money problems. Racism. Sexuality. These topics make us squirm. So we avoid them, telling ourselves we’re protecting our children from things they’re too young to understand.
But children are perceptive. They sense tension. They overhear fragments. They fill in gaps with their imagination, which is often worse than reality. When we refuse to discuss hard things, we don’t protect them. We isolate them with their confusion and worry.
You don’t need to share every detail. Age-appropriate honesty is the goal. “Grandma is very sick, and the doctors are trying to help her” is better than pretending nothing is wrong while the child watches everyone cry. “Sometimes families change, and Mom and Dad have decided to live in different houses” is better than a sudden upheaval with no explanation.
Difficult conversations build trust. They teach children that you’re a safe person to come to with hard things. And they’ll have plenty of hard things in life. Wouldn’t you rather they bring them to you?
The thread that connects all of this
Looking back at these eight mistakes, I notice something. They all stem from the same place: fear. Fear of losing control. Fear of raising children who fail. Fear of being judged. Fear of doing it wrong.
Parenting from fear makes us rigid when we need to be flexible. It makes us reactive when we need to be thoughtful. It makes us focus on short-term compliance instead of long-term relationship.
The antidote isn’t perfection. None of us will get this right all the time. The antidote is awareness. Noticing when you’ve slipped into one of these patterns and gently correcting course.
Which of these mistakes resonates most with you? And what’s one small thing you could do differently this week?
