Yesterday, I watched my five-year-old completely melt down over a tower of blocks that kept toppling over. She was trying to build it taller than her little brother, and every time it fell, her frustration grew until she was sobbing on the floor.
My first instinct? Rush over, rebuild it for her, and make everything better. But I stopped myself. Because that moment taught me something crucial about what we’re doing wrong as parents, even with the best intentions.
We want our kids to be happy, successful, and confident. But somewhere along the way, our well-meaning efforts to protect and support them are actually creating children who crumble at the first sign of difficulty.
Here are seven things I’ve caught myself doing (and see other parents doing daily) that accidentally destroy our children’s ability to handle frustration.
1. Jumping in too quickly when things get hard
Remember when you were a kid and had to figure things out on your own? Last month, my daughter was struggling with her shoelaces. She’d been at it for five minutes, getting increasingly frustrated. Every fiber of my being wanted to swoop in and tie them for her.
But what message does that send? That when things get tough, someone else will fix it?
Instead, I sat nearby and said, “You’re working really hard on that. What if you try holding the loops differently?” She eventually got it, and the pride on her face was worth every minute of watching her struggle.
The problem is we’ve become rescue parents. We see our child struggling with homework, and we basically do it for them. They can’t open a juice box? We grab it immediately. But frustration tolerance is like a muscle – it only grows stronger with use.
2. Removing all obstacles before they encounter them
I used to be the parent who’d call ahead to restaurants to make sure they had the exact meal my kids would eat. Who’d pack three different snacks in case the first two weren’t appealing that day. Who’d smooth over every potential bump in their path before they even knew it existed.
But life doesn’t work that way, does it? When we constantly clear the path ahead, our kids never learn to navigate obstacles themselves. They expect smooth sailing and fall apart when they hit their first real roadblock.
Now, I let them experience small disappointments. If the playground is closed, we figure out something else to do together. If their favorite cereal is out of stock, they simply choose a different one. These tiny frustrations build their capacity to handle bigger ones later.
3. Entertaining them constantly to avoid boredom
“I’m bored” used to send me into full entertainment mode. Activities! Crafts! Screen time! Anything to fill that uncomfortable void. But boredom isn’t the enemy we think it is.
When kids learn to sit with boredom, they develop creativity, patience, and the ability to self-regulate. They figure out how to entertain themselves, how to be comfortable with quiet moments, how to let their minds wander.
My two-year-old now knows that “bored” means it’s time to find something to do. Sometimes he builds those couch cushion forts. Sometimes he just sits and plays with his toy cars for an hour.
That ability to self-soothe through boredom? That’s gold when it comes to handling frustration.
4. Overprotecting them from failure
This one hits close to home. As a recovering perfectionist, watching my kids fail at something feels physically painful.
When my daughter’s art project doesn’t turn out how she wanted, or when my son can’t stack his blocks right, I want to fix it, redo it, make it perfect.
I recently watched a YouTube video titled “Why the ‘Best’ Parents Are Raising the Most Fragile Kids” that really struck me. It mentioned how in the old days, “No one sat you down to talk about resilience. You developed it by running into limits—and finding out you didn’t break.” That’s exactly what we’re denying our kids when we shield them from every failure.
Failure teaches problem-solving. It builds grit. It shows kids that not getting something right the first (or fifth) time isn’t the end of the world. When we protect them from these experiences, we’re essentially telling them they’re not capable of handling disappointment.
5. Giving in when they push back
You set a boundary. Your child protests. They whine, they negotiate, they have a meltdown. And because you’re exhausted and just want peace, you give in.
Sound familiar?
Every time we change our “no” to a “yes” because of their reaction, we teach them that frustration and persistence will get them what they want. We’re actually training them to have less frustration tolerance, not more.
Holding boundaries when they’re upset teaches them that uncomfortable feelings won’t kill them. That they can feel frustrated and survive. That the world won’t always bend to their will, and that’s okay. Natural consequences, not giving in, that’s where the real learning happens.
6. Validating every emotion without teaching coping skills
Yes, all feelings are valid. But somewhere between “toxic positivity” and “let it all out,” we’ve lost the plot.
We validate and validate, but forget to teach our kids what to do with those big feelings.
Your child is frustrated because their tower fell down? “You’re really frustrated that didn’t work” is a great start. But it can’t end there.
We need to follow up with “What could we try differently?” or “Let’s take three deep breaths and try again.”
Acknowledgment without action leaves kids stuck in their frustration. They need tools, strategies, and practice using them when emotions run high.
7. Modeling poor frustration tolerance ourselves
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: our kids are watching how we handle frustration.
When I lose it because dinner burned or traffic is bad, I’m teaching them that frustration is unbearable, something to avoid at all costs.
I’ve had to work hard on this one. Now when I’m frustrated, I narrate my process: “This isn’t working how I wanted. I’m going to take a breath and try a different way.” Or “I’m really frustrated right now. I need a minute to calm down before I figure this out.”
Our children learn more from what we do than what we say. If we want them to handle frustration well, we need to show them what that looks like.
The path forward
Building frustration tolerance in our kids means fighting every protective instinct we have. It means sitting on our hands while they struggle. It means letting them experience disappointment. It means being okay with their temporary discomfort for their long-term growth.
Start small. Pick one area where you typically jump in too quickly and step back. Let them wrestle with that jacket zipper a bit longer. Don’t immediately offer solutions when they complain about a problem with friends. Let them sit with their boredom for ten minutes before suggesting activities.
Our job isn’t to eliminate frustration from our children’s lives. It’s to teach them that frustration is temporary, manageable, and often the doorway to growth.
When we rush to remove every obstacle, solve every problem, and soothe every disappointment, we rob them of the chance to discover their own strength.
Trust me, watching your child struggle is hard. But watching them overcome that struggle on their own? That’s where the magic happens.
