Last Saturday at the farmers’ market, I overheard a grandmother telling her daughter, “In my day, we didn’t coddle children like this.” Her tone was sharp, critical. I saw the younger mom’s shoulders tense up as her toddler clung to her leg.
The scene took me right back to my own childhood dinner table—where conversations stayed surface-level and emotions were something you kept to yourself. My father worked long hours and stayed emotionally distant, while my mother anxiously managed the household. They did their best with what they knew, but some of those old approaches They just don’t hold up anymore.
I spent seven years teaching kindergarten before Ellie was born, and what I saw convinced me that the “because I said so” generation got some things really wrong. My parents are slowly coming around to my gentler approach with Ellie (5) and Milo (2), but they still raise their eyebrows when I validate big feelings instead of sending kids to their rooms.
So let’s talk about five parenting approaches from the boomer generation that we can finally leave behind.
1) Suppressing emotional expression
“Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” Sound familiar?
This was standard operating procedure when I was growing up. Boys especially were taught that tears meant weakness, but girls weren’t exactly encouraged to express anger either. The message was clear: some feelings are acceptable, others need to be hidden away.
But here’s what we know now that they didn’t: shutting down emotions doesn’t make them disappear. It just teaches kids that parts of themselves are shameful or wrong.
When Milo melts down because his tower of blocks fell over, I don’t tell him to “get over it.” I sit with him. I name what he’s feeling. I let him know that disappointment and frustration are normal, manageable feelings that won’t last forever. It takes more time than “stop crying,” but he’s learning that all his feelings are safe with me.
That’s not coddling. That’s building emotional intelligence.
2) “Because I said so” discipline
I remember asking my dad why I couldn’t go to a friend’s house, and getting “because I said so” as the complete explanation. Case closed. No discussion needed.
This authoritarian approach was about establishing hierarchy, not teaching. Parents commanded, children obeyed, end of story.
But kids aren’t soldiers. They’re little humans trying to make sense of the world, and “because I said so” teaches them exactly nothing except that power matters more than understanding.
Dr. Dan Siegel, author of The Whole-Brain Child, reminds us that “Too often we forget that discipline really means to teach, not to punish. A disciple is a student, not a recipient of behavioural consequences.”
When Ellie asks why she can’t have dessert before dinner, I don’t shut her down. I explain that eating sugar first will make her too full for the nutrients her body needs. Does she always like the answer? No. But she’s learning to think critically instead of just following orders blindly.
I set clear boundaries with both kids, but I also explain the why behind them. It takes more effort, but I’m raising kids who understand reasons, not just rules.
3) Comparing siblings to each other
“Why can’t you be more like your brother?”
This one hit close to home as a middle child. I watched my parents hold my older brother up as the standard, subtly suggesting that my younger sister and I should measure ourselves against him.
The intention might have been motivation, but the result was competition and resentment.
Every child is their own person with unique strengths, challenges, and developmental timelines. When we compare them, we’re essentially telling them they’re not enough as they are. We’re saying there’s a “right” way to be, and they’re failing at it.
I work hard not to fall into this trap with Ellie and Milo. Yes, Ellie is verbal and chatty while Milo expresses himself through cuddles and climbing. That doesn’t make either of them better or worse—it makes them different.
When my mom comments that Ellie was already reading at Milo’s age, I gently redirect. “Milo has his own timeline. He’s amazing at building and problem-solving in ways Ellie wasn’t at two.”
Our kids don’t need to be measured against each other. They need to be seen for who they are.
4) Never apologizing to children
Adults don’t apologize to kids. That was the unspoken rule in my house growing up.
Even when my parents were clearly in the wrong—snapping unfairly after a bad day at work, jumping to conclusions before hearing our side—there was never an acknowledgment, never a “I’m sorry.” I think they believed that apologizing would undermine their authority.
But you know what actually undermines authority? Modeling that mistakes don’t require repair.
Last week I lost my patience with Ellie over spilled milk. I was tired, overwhelmed, and I reacted harshly. Once I calmed down, I went to her and said, “I’m sorry I yelled. That wasn’t about the milk—I was feeling stressed, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”
Her face softened immediately. “It’s okay, Mama.”
Apologizing doesn’t make me weak. It makes me human. And it teaches my kids that relationships require repair, that mistakes happen, and that saying “I’m sorry” is a sign of strength, not weakness.
5) The “children should be seen and not heard” mentality
This phrase perfectly captures the boomer approach to children’s voices and opinions: they didn’t really matter.
Kids were expected to sit quietly while adults talked. Their thoughts, ideas, and perspectives were dismissed as unimportant until they reached some magical age where they suddenly counted as people.
This wasn’t about teaching respect. It was about silencing developing minds during their most formative years.
Children aren’t decorative objects. They’re people with thoughts, feelings, and perspectives that deserve to be heard.
Wrapping this up
Look, my parents did the best they could with the tools they had. I’m not trying to bash an entire generation here. But we know more now about child development, emotional regulation, and healthy relationships than we did forty years ago.
Creating a different family culture with more emotional openness hasn’t always been easy. Sometimes I catch myself wanting to fall back on those old patterns—the quick “because I said so” when I’m exhausted, the urge to tell Milo to “toughen up” when he cries. Those scripts run deep.
But here’s what I remind myself: the goal isn’t to make parenting easier in the moment. It’s to raise kids who trust themselves, who know how to process their feelings, who understand that their voices matter.
That requires unlearning some deeply ingrained habits. It requires doing the work on my own childhood patterns—the people-pleasing, the perfectionism, the discomfort with certain emotions. Because I can’t teach my kids to be comfortable with feelings I’m still running from.
The old ways prioritized obedience and conformity. The new approach? It prioritizes connection and emotional health. Not every moment is perfect over here—our house is messy, I lose my patience, and some days we’re all just surviving. But I’m choosing progress over perfection.
And honestly? Watching Ellie process disappointment with words instead of tantrums, seeing Milo come to me for comfort when he’s upset instead of hiding his feelings—that tells me we’re on the right track.
