Last week, I was rushing Ellie to get ready for preschool when she stopped mid-sock and asked, “Mama, why do we always have to hurry?”
That simple question hit me like a ton of bricks. Here I was, repeating the same patterns from my own childhood — my father always rushing off to work, never quite present even when he was home.
That moment reminded me why I left teaching to focus on what really matters: raising kids who’ll grow into emotionally healthy adults.
After diving deep into child development research and reflecting on my own upbringing, I’ve discovered eight powerful practices that psychology tells us make all the difference.
1. Let them feel all their feelings (yes, even the messy ones)
Remember when showing emotion was considered weakness? Thank goodness we know better now. Research from the Gottman Institute shows that children whose parents validate their emotions develop better emotional regulation and stronger relationships as adults.
Yesterday, my little one had a complete meltdown because his tower of blocks fell over. The old me would have rushed to distract him or minimize it with “It’s just blocks!”
Instead, I sat down and said, “You worked so hard on that tower. It’s really frustrating when things fall apart.” The shift was instant—he felt heard, had his cry, then started rebuilding.
What would it have been like if someone had done that for us when we were kids? When we acknowledge our children’s emotions instead of dismissing them, we’re teaching them that feelings aren’t enemies to conquer but messengers to understand.
2. Show them your imperfections (and how you handle them)
Perfectionism nearly broke me. As a recovering perfectionist myself, I spent years hiding my mistakes, thinking I was protecting my kids from disappointment.
But here’s what psychology tells us: children who see their parents make mistakes and recover from them develop resilience and self-compassion.
Last month, I burned dinner spectacularly. Smoke alarm blaring, kids wide-eyed, the whole scene. Instead of my usual stress spiral, I laughed and said, “Well, looks like we’re having sandwiches tonight! Sometimes things don’t work out, and that’s okay.” We turned it into a picnic on the living room floor.
Children learn more from watching us navigate failure than from seeing false perfection. Every time we mess up and show them how to bounce back, we’re giving them permission to be human.
3. Create predictable rhythms without rigid rules
Structure matters, but flexibility matters more. Growing up with a father who worked unpredictable hours taught me how unsettling chaos can be for kids. But swinging too far the other way with militant schedules and inflexible rules creates anxiety too.
We’ve found our sweet spot with what I call “rhythm over rigidity.” Bedtime happens around the same time, but if we’re deep in a fort-building session, we flex. We have family dinner most nights, but sometimes it’s breakfast for dinner eaten outside because the sunset is too beautiful to miss.
According to child development experts, predictable caregiving helps children develop secure attachment while maintaining the flexibility to respond to their changing needs.
4. Teach them to solve problems (instead of solving everything for them)
This one’s tough when every instinct screams to fix everything for them. But when we constantly swoop in, we’re accidentally sending the message: “You can’t handle this without me.”
What psychology consistently shows is that self-efficacy — the belief that “I can handle challenges”—develops through experience, not protection. Children don’t build confidence by watching adults rescue them; they build it by trying, stumbling, adjusting, and realizing the world doesn’t fall apart when things don’t go perfectly.
When we step back just enough, we give our kids something far more valuable than a solution: practice. Practice tolerating frustration. Practice weighing options. Practice learning that mistakes aren’t emergencies, they’re information.
Over time, this is what turns into resilience, emotional regulation, and the ability to stay calm when life gets complicated.
As adults, these are the kids who don’t panic at every setback or outsource every decision. They’re more likely to trust their judgment, ask for help thoughtfully, and navigate conflict without freezing or exploding.
And one day, when they face a problem you can’t fix for them (because let’s face it, none of us can be there forever), they’ll quietly thank you for teaching them how to think, not just how to obey.
5. Prioritize connection over correction
How many of us grew up in homes where behavior mattered more than connection? Where being “good” was more important than being heard?
Studies consistently show that children who feel deeply connected to their parents develop stronger mental health and better relationships throughout life.
Some days, I catch myself starting every interaction with a correction: “Don’t jump on the couch,” “Stop bothering your sister,” “Clean up those toys.”
When I notice this pattern, I reset. I get down on their level, make eye contact, and connect first. “Hey buddy, looks like you have lots of energy today! Want to build an obstacle course outside?”
The corrections still happen, but they land differently when the foundation is connection, not control.
6. Model the behavior you want to see
Kids are always watching, absorbing how we handle stress, conflict, and joy. When I catch myself scrolling through my phone while they’re trying to show me something, I remember my father’s physical presence but emotional absence. I put the phone down.
Albert Bandura’s social learning theory proves what we instinctively know: children learn far more from what we do than what we say.
When we take deep breaths instead of yelling, apologize when we’re wrong, and show kindness to others, we’re writing the script they’ll follow.
7. Practice presence over perfection
This might be the most important one. In our rush to give our kids every opportunity, every enrichment class, every advantage, we sometimes forget what they need most: us, fully present, imperfect and all.
Some of our best moments happen in the ordinary spaces. Sorting leaves in the backyard. Building yet another cushion fort. Having nowhere to be and nothing to achieve.
These unhurried moments of presence are where the real magic happens—where kids feel seen, valued, and loved for exactly who they are.
The bottom line
Looking at this list, I realize none of these things require special equipment, expensive classes, or superhuman patience. They just require showing up, staying aware, and choosing connection over control, presence over perfection.
Will I nail all seven every day? Absolutely not. But that’s not the point. The point is creating an environment where our kids feel safe to grow, fail, feel, and become exactly who they’re meant to be.
Because when they’re adults looking back, they won’t remember the perfect lunches or the spotless house. They’ll remember how we made them feel seen, heard, valued, and deeply loved.
And really, isn’t that what we all wished for when we were kids?
