Let’s be honest—raising kids today feels completely different from how our parents did it. Between smartphones, social media drama, and a world that seems to spin faster every year, many of us feel like we’re making it up as we go along. And you know what? That’s actually okay. Here’s what I’ve learned about parenting children who’ll grow up in a world we’re still trying to figure out ourselves.
Stop Trying to Be Perfect (Seriously, Just Stop)
Instagram and Facebook have us believing that somewhere out there, someone has cracked the parenting code. Their kids eat organic vegetables without complaint, sleep through the night from birth, and never have meltdowns in Target. Spoiler alert: those people don’t exist, or if they do, their kids will probably write interesting therapy memoirs someday.
What matters isn’t creating picture-perfect moments—it’s creating real ones. Put your phone face-down when your kid wants to tell you something, even if it’s the fourteenth Roblox story today. Look them in the eyes. I know it’s tempting to half-listen while mentally planning dinner, but kids can tell when we’re really there versus just physically present.
Here’s something that changed everything for me: apologizing to my kids when I mess up. When I snap because I’m stressed about work, or when I’m unfair because I’m tired, I say so. “I’m sorry I yelled. That wasn’t okay, and I was wrong.” Does it feel weird at first? Absolutely. But it shows them that adults aren’t infallible, and that relationships survive mistakes when we own them.
The Screen Time Battle Is Real
Look, I’m not going to pretend I have this figured out completely. But here’s what I do know: screens aren’t going away, and treating them as purely evil doesn’t help. What does help? Rules. Boring, consistent rules.
In our house, phones don’t come to the dinner table. Period. Bedrooms are phone-free zones after 8 PM. The first hour after school is for talking, playing, or zoning out—not for YouTube. Are these rules popular? Not even a little bit. Do I enforce them anyway? You bet.
But here’s the catch—I follow the same rules. If I’m endlessly scrolling Instagram while my daughter tries to show me her drawing, I’m teaching her that what’s on my screen matters more than she does. Kids watch what we do, not what we say.
About social media specifically: I’m delaying it as long as humanly possible. The research on teenage mental health and social media gets darker every year. When the time comes, we’ll talk openly about what they’re seeing, who’s messaging them, and how filtered, fake content can mess with your head. I’d rather be the slightly annoying parent who asks questions than the oblivious one who finds out too late.
Success Isn’t Just About Straight A’s
Every parent wants their kid to succeed, but we’ve gotten confused about what success actually means. My neighbor’s daughter is taking AP classes, playing club soccer, volunteering at the hospital, and learning Mandarin. She’s also anxious, exhausted, and has forgotten what she actually enjoys.
Real success—the kind that lasts—comes from understanding yourself and getting along with others. When my son gets frustrated building with Legos and throws them across the room, that’s not just a tantrum. That’s a teachable moment about frustration, patience, and healthy ways to handle big feelings.
I try to help my kids name what they’re feeling. “You seem really disappointed” works better than “It’s fine, don’t cry.” All feelings are valid, even the uncomfortable ones. It’s what we do with those feelings that matters.
And when things go wrong—forgotten homework, friend drama, a failed test—I’ve learned to ask questions instead of rushing in with solutions. “What do you think you could do about that?” “What happened, from your perspective?” These little moments where they have to think through problems? That’s where resilience gets built.
Let Them Be Bored (I Promise They’ll Survive)
We’ve gotten ridiculous about scheduling. Between school, homework, soccer practice, piano lessons, tutoring, and playdates, kids today have less free time than most adults. And then we wonder why they’re stressed.
Some of my kids’ best days have been the ones with nothing planned. Sure, they complained for the first hour—”I’m bored, there’s nothing to do”—but then something magical happened. They invented games. They built forts. They got into arguments, worked them out, and moved on. All without me refereeing.
Unstructured play isn’t wasted time. It’s where creativity happens, where social skills develop, where kids learn to entertain themselves. Not every minute needs to be optimized for future college applications.
And please, please get them outside. Even if you live in a city, parks exist. Nature does something that screens simply cannot—it calms the nervous system, improves focus, and gives kids sensory experiences they actually need.
Let Them Do Things (Even If They’ll Mess Up)
I have watched parents at the playground literally hold their five-year-old’s hand going down a slide. I’ve seen high schoolers whose parents still pack their lunch. I’ve met college students who’ve never done their own laundry. This isn’t love—it’s handicapping.
Age-appropriate independence looks different at every stage, but it needs to start early. Toddlers can put on their own shoes (it might take forever, but they can). Elementary kids can make a sandwich. Teenagers can absolutely manage their own homework, and if they forget an assignment, experiencing the natural consequence teaches more than your reminder texts ever will.
Will they fail sometimes? Yes. Will they make dumb decisions? Definitely. But better to fail at small things now than big things later when the stakes are higher and you’re not there to help.
You Can’t Do This Alone (And You Shouldn’t Try)
The whole “nuclear family in a house with a white picket fence” thing? That’s a recent invention, and honestly, it’s kind of a terrible one. We’re supposed to raise kids in community—grandparents, aunts, uncles, neighbors, friends.
If you’re feeling overwhelmed and isolated, that’s not personal failure. That’s what happens when we try to do something humans aren’t designed to do alone.
Build your network intentionally. Get to know your neighbors. Connect with other families at school. If you’re lucky enough to have family nearby, lean on them. Find your people—the ones who’ll pick your kid up from school when you’re stuck at work, who understand when you need to vent, who your kids can turn to when they don’t want to talk to you.
Talk About the Scary Stuff
Kids today know about climate change, school shootings, and political division. Pretending everything’s fine doesn’t protect them—it just leaves them anxious and confused.
The trick is honesty without overwhelming them. When my kids ask hard questions, I answer truthfully but age-appropriately. Yes, climate change is real. Here’s what our family is doing to help. Yes, bad things sometimes happen. Here’s what we do to stay safe. Giving them accurate information and actionable steps builds confidence, not fear.
For older kids, this includes the really uncomfortable conversations about sex, relationships, consent, and identity. Would I rather talk about literally anything else? Sure. But I’d rather my teenager hear about these things from me—awkwardly but accurately—than from their equally clueless friends or the internet.
Praise the Right Things
When my daughter brings home an A, I don’t say “You’re so smart!” I say “You really prepared well for that test” or “I noticed how much time you spent studying.” The difference matters. One suggests ability is fixed, the other suggests effort leads to results.
Same thing with character. When I see my son share his snack with his little sister without being asked, I notice it out loud. “That was really generous of you.” When my daughter tells the truth even though she’ll get in trouble, I acknowledge that. “That took courage.”
Kids become the story they hear about themselves. If all they hear is praise for being naturally talented or smart, they learn to avoid challenges that might prove otherwise. If they hear praise for being kind, persistent, or brave, they lean into those qualities.
Show, Don’t Just Tell
Kids absorb what we do, not what we preach. I can lecture about healthy eating all day, but if they watch me stress-eat ice cream every night, that’s the lesson they’re learning.
Want them to read? Read yourself—and let them see you doing it. Want them to be kind? Let them watch you treating the grocery store clerk with respect. Want them to handle stress well? Show them what that looks like, even when it’s hard.
This includes the uncomfortable stuff. How you talk about your body, how you handle conflict with your partner, how you react to your own mistakes—they’re watching all of it and taking notes.
Different Kids Need Different Things
My two kids are completely different humans, which means what works for one fails spectacularly with the other. My son needs firm boundaries and consistent routine. My daughter needs flexibility and choices. Neither approach is wrong—they’re just different kids.
Pay attention to who your child actually is, not who you hoped they’d be or who their sibling is. One of the hardest and most important parts of parenting is accepting that your kid might be nothing like you, and that’s not only okay—it’s beautiful.
Keep Perspective
You’re not raising a child. You’re raising a future adult. The goal isn’t perfection at age seven or straight A’s at fifteen. The goal is launching a reasonably functional, emotionally healthy human into the world who can navigate challenges, form healthy relationships, and find meaning in their life.
Some days will be terrible. You’ll lose your temper, say the wrong thing, miss important signals, or make decisions you’ll regret. That doesn’t make you a bad parent. It makes you human.
The best thing you can offer your kids isn’t a flawless childhood—it’s your consistent presence, your genuine love, and your willingness to keep showing up even when it’s hard. That foundation matters more than any parenting technique or expert advice.
On the tough days—and there will be many—remember this: you’re doing better than you think you are. Your kids are luckier than they know. And showing up with love, even imperfectly, is more than enough.
That’s not just parenting advice. That’s the truth.