Kids roll their eyes like it’s an Olympic sport. You set a curfew, ask for help with the bins, or suggest an early night—and suddenly you’re the villain in a teen drama. I get it. I’ve been through it with my own kids, and now I see the same routine with the grandkids on our park walks.
Here’s the good news: some of those “ugh, really?” moments become the stories they thank you for later.
Here on Artful Parent, I’m all about the long game — raising humans who are sturdy, kind, and confident. So let’s talk about eight things that might not win you applause tonight but will pay off down the line.
1) Holding steady with boundaries
Curfews, screens, seatbelts, bedtimes—these are the classics kids love to hate. But predictability is a love language. Boundaries tell your child, “You’re safe, and I’m steering the ship when the waves get choppy.”
What helps:
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Keep rules few, clear, and posted. “Phone docks at 9,” “Homework before games,” “Text if plans change.”
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Explain the why without a lecture. “Sleep helps your mood and memory.” Short and sweet.
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Enforce calmly and consistently. Not every misstep needs a monologue.
It won’t stop the sighs, but one day they’ll set the same lines in their own homes and think, “Okay, I get it now.”
2) Letting them fail (safely)
I know the urge to rescue. Last month, my grandson was building a wobbly science display. I wanted to jump in with duct tape and a spreadsheet. Instead, I asked, “What’s your plan?” He learned more from that wonky poster than any “perfect” one I could have engineered.
Failure (with a safety net) teaches resilience, problem-solving, and humility. Guardrails, not guard-dogs.
Try this:
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Ask process questions: “Where will you start?” “What have you tried?”
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Offer a tool, not a takeover: “Want tape or a second pair of hands?”
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Do a gentle debrief later: “What worked, and what would you change?”
A line that’s really shaped how I parent and grandparent comes from a book I’ve mentioned before: Laughing in the Face of Chaos by Rudá Iandê (he’s the founder of The Vessel). One sentence I keep returning to is: “You have both the right and responsibility to explore and try until you know yourself deeply.”
The book inspired me to step back more often—less micromanaging, more mentoring.
If your kid’s eye rolls spike whenever you don’t rush in to fix things, this new release is a refreshing nudge to trust their process.
3) Insisting on kindness and manners
“Say please.” “Look the waiter in the eye.” “Write Grandma a thank‑you note.” Cue the eye roll. Later, these tiny habits open doors. Teachers notice. Bosses notice. Friends notice.
Keep it practical:
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Model it. Kids copy tone more than words.
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Make gratitude easy: pre‑stamped postcards on the fridge for quick notes.
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Praise the effort: “Thanks for circling back to thank the coach.”
Manners aren’t about being fancy; they’re about seeing other people.
4) Expecting them to contribute at home
Chores get a bad rap. But a kid who can do laundry, cook two meals, and fix a squeaky hinge grows into an adult who doesn’t fall apart when life gets real.
How to make it stick:
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Call it contribution, not punishment. “We’re a team; teams share the load.”
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Match tasks to age and interest: a skateboarder can sweep the garage; a bookworm can manage the library returns.
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Teach, then trust. Show once, step back, resist “Just give it to me.”
They might grumble now; one day they’ll text you a photo of their first apartment meal with a “Thanks for making me learn this.”
5) Respecting privacy and consent
Knocking before you enter. Asking before posting their photo.
Not reading diaries or DMs unless you have a serious safety concern and you’ve been clear about check‑ins.
These habits teach the most important lesson of all: your body, your time, your story.
Practical moves:
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Knock, wait, and accept “One minute.”
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Ask before sharing: “Okay if I send your recital clip to Aunt Jo?”
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Offer alternatives in family greetings: handshake, fist bump, hug—child’s choice.
It can feel small. It isn’t. Kids who feel ownership of their lives bring you more of their lives.
6) Teaching emotional literacy
“Use your words” isn’t just for toddlers. Teens need it, too. Name feelings, normalize them, and help your child navigate—not suppress.
A quick script:
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Name: “Sounds like you’re embarrassed and angry.”
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Normalize: “Anyone would feel that way after being left out.”
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Navigate: “Want to brainstorm what could help lunch feel less awkward tomorrow?”
You’re not endorsing every reaction — you’re giving them a map. The bonus? Emotional literacy makes future relationships saner—for them and for everyone around them.
7) Taking responsibility—and repairing fast
There’s a point in every family blow‑up where you can either double down or repair. Choosing repair teaches accountability and keeps the relationship bigger than the argument.
Keep it simple:
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“I interrupted you. That was disrespectful.”
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“I’m sorry.”
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“Do you want to try this conversation again now or after dinner?”
No “but you…” add‑ons. No theatrical groveling. Just an honest reset. Kids remember the adults who can apologize without turning it into a lesson about the child’s tone, timing, or attitude.
8) Protecting the boring basics: sleep, food, movement, and small rituals
Bedtimes. Real meals. Fresh air. A short walk together after dinner. A no‑agenda Saturday breakfast. These are the eye‑roll champs of family life—and the anchors kids come to rely on.
A few ideas:
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Pick one weeknight that’s always low‑key and screen‑light.
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Guard sleep like it’s sacred. Because for growing brains, it is.
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Keep a tiny ritual: pancakes on Sundays, a shared podcast in the car, a three‑question check‑in (“Good, hard, funny”) before lights out.
They’ll remember the taste of those rituals long after the exact rules have faded.
Final thoughts
One thing I’ve learned in my sixty‑something years: most of what matters in families is unglamorous. It’s repetition, gentle course corrections, showing up even when it’s inconvenient.
Kids don’t always applaud that in the moment.
That’s okay. You’re planting roots, not chasing claps.
If you want a friendly nudge as you stay the course, I’ll repeat my recommendation of Rudá Iandê’s new book, Laughing in the Face of Chaos.
He’s The Vessel’s founder, and his work keeps steering me back to the essentials: trust your child’s path, let real life be the teacher, and drop the perfection performance so connection can breathe.
My own insights from the book pushed me to swap a lot of pressure for presence—and the house got warmer.
Your turn.
Which eye‑roll‑inducing habit are you going to keep anyway, because future‑them will thank you for it?
