Growing up, I watched my parents navigate the chaos of raising three kids with a mix of love, exhaustion, and what I now recognize as their own childhood baggage. Like most Gen Xers, I made mental notes about what I’d do differently when my turn came.
We were the latchkey generation, promising ourselves we’d be more present, more understanding, more everything our parents couldn’t be.
Fast forward to now, with a five-year-old and a two-year-old testing every ounce of patience I possess, and I find myself doing exactly what I swore I’d never do. The irony isn’t lost on me as I hear my mother’s words coming out of my mouth or catch myself repeating patterns I was certain I’d broken.
Maybe you’re in the same boat? Let’s talk about those promises we made to our younger selves and why breaking them might not be the parenting fail we think it is.
1) Using the TV as a babysitter
Remember judging parents who plopped their kids in front of the TV? Yeah, me too. Before kids, I was all about wooden toys, nature walks, and creative play every single day. Screen time was going to be minimal, educational, and definitely not before age two.
Then reality hit. Some mornings, when I’m trying to get breakfast made and my toddler is having his third meltdown before 7 AM, that tablet becomes my lifeline. The mom guilt hits hard, especially when I remember my own childhood of coming home to an empty house and watching whatever was on until my parents got home from work.
But here’s what I’m learning: survival mode is real, and sometimes twenty minutes of educational shows means I can prepare a healthy meal instead of serving cereal for dinner again. The difference between us and our parents? We’re actually present when the screen goes off.
We talk about what they watched. We engage. That counts for something, right?
2) Saying “because I said so”
This phrase was my dad’s favorite conversation ender. No explanation, no discussion, just pure parental authority. I promised myself I’d always explain my reasoning, always validate feelings, always have those deep, meaningful conversations about boundaries.
Cut to last Tuesday when my daughter asked “why” for the fifteenth time about why she couldn’t have ice cream for breakfast. After explaining nutrition, healthy choices, and growing bodies, I finally snapped: “Because I said so, that’s why.”
The shock on her face mirrored my own. But you know what? Sometimes kids need simple boundaries without lengthy explanations. Sometimes they’re testing limits, not seeking understanding.
The key difference is that unlike my emotionally distant father who used this phrase as his default, I use it sparingly, when other approaches have failed.
3) Bribing with treats
“If you’re good at the store, you can pick out a treat.” Sound familiar? I swore I’d never resort to bribery. Good behavior should be expected, not rewarded with sugar, right?
Yet here I am, negotiating with fruit snacks like they’re currency. The grocery store meltdown prevention kit in my bag would make my younger self cringe. But when you’re solo parenting on a Saturday afternoon and just need to get through the shopping list, those organic lollipops become peacekeeping tools.
What I’ve realized is that our parents often used treats as substitutes for attention or connection. When I offer a reward, it comes with presence and follow-through. We talk about making good choices, and the treat becomes part of a larger conversation about behavior and consequences.
4) Losing my temper
Growing up with a dad who worked long hours and came home stressed, I witnessed plenty of blown fuses over minor infractions. I promised myself I’d be the calm, collected parent who never raised their voice.
Then my toddler drew on the walls with permanent marker while I was putting laundry away. The yell that came out of me surprised us both. In that moment, I became everything I swore I wouldn’t be.
But here’s the difference: I apologize. I kneel down, make eye contact, and explain that even grown-ups make mistakes when they’re frustrated. We talk about better ways to handle big feelings. My parents’ generation didn’t do repair work after ruptures. We do.
5) Comparing siblings
“Why can’t you be more like your sister?” This comparison game was huge in my childhood home, creating rivalries that lasted into adulthood. I was determined to celebrate each child’s unique qualities without comparison.
But when my five-year-old is refusing to put on shoes and I blurt out, “Your little brother can do this already,” I catch myself mid-sentence. The comparison slipped out before I could stop it.
The work here is constant vigilance and immediate correction. When I slip, I pivot quickly: “Actually, you each do things in your own time and your own way, and that’s perfectly okay.”
6) Making empty threats
“If you don’t stop right now, we’re never coming back to the park again!” Even as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s ridiculous. We’ll be back tomorrow because outdoor play is essential for all our sanity.
My parents threw around consequences they’d never follow through on, creating confusion about boundaries. I promised to only say what I mean and follow through consistently.
Reality check: sometimes in the heat of the moment, desperate parents say desperate things. The difference is I circle back, acknowledge the unrealistic threat, and set a more appropriate consequence. “I was frustrated earlier. Let’s talk about what happens if we can’t follow park rules.”
7) Prioritizing convenience over ideals
This might be the biggest one. I had such grand plans for cloth diapers every day, homemade baby food, no processed snacks, wooden toys only. My kids would never eat fast food or wear clothes that weren’t organic cotton.
Last week, we went through a drive-through after a particularly chaotic day, and my kids ate chicken nuggets in their car seats while wearing matching pajamas from a big box store. My younger self would be horrified.
But parenting in real life means choosing your battles. Yes, we use cloth diapers most of the time, but disposables on road trips aren’t the end of the world. We eat organic when possible, but sometimes goldfish crackers save the day. The perfection I imagined before kids was a luxury I couldn’t afford once they actually arrived.
Finding grace in the gap
What I’m learning is that the gap between who we wanted to be as parents and who we actually are isn’t a failure. It’s growth. It’s humility. It’s understanding our own parents a little better while still choosing to do better where it really counts.
We’re the generation trying to break cycles while living in a world that moves faster than ever. We’re processing our own childhoods while raising kids in a completely different landscape. Give yourself credit for trying, for caring, for showing up even when you fall short of your own expectations.
The promises we break aren’t signs of weakness. They’re evidence that we’re human parents raising human kids in an imperfect world. And maybe, just maybe, our kids will look back and see not our failures, but our efforts to bridge the gap between where we came from and where we’re going.
