I don’t cut crusts off toast at breakfast time. If my kids don’t want to eat the crust, they eat around it. I’m not lazy, I’m teaching life skills. It’s a valuable lesson that you have to eat around the bits you don’t like.
My often passive parenting isn’t me checking out; I’m intentionally stepping back so my kids have space to grow and work it out for themselves.
I’m a passive parent
My kids are both in school now, and sometimes we wait up to 10 minutes for my youngest to tie her laces. I’ll wait because I’m finished doing it for her. It’s practice in patience, for both of us, and she’s a smart kid, getting faster every time.
I’m a fan of a bit of tough love. If there are peas in the pasta and my kids decide (that day) they don’t like them, they can pick them out. It will take patience and be frustrating as the little green balls slide back into the sauce after they’ve been carefully removed, but picking the peas or onions out is a lifelong habit for many adults, and the sooner you master it, the better.
I first noticed I was a passive parent when I went for a coffee with a friend and watched her hold her 1-year-old daughter’s bottle to her little lips. My friend had one hand on the bottle, the other balancing her latte, while her sandwich sat untouched. I realized then that from the age of about 4 months, my son had held his own bottle, likely because I put it to his mouth and then turned away and used both my hands to eat my lunch.
I’ve observed similar patterns with shoelace tying and car seat buckling. I’m always surprised when a child gets in my car and can’t buckle their own seatbelt. When I stopped doing it for them, my kids picked it up incredibly quickly.
I want to empower independence
I am a full-time working mom, so sometimes my passive parenting strategy is ironically passive. They learn to make snacks because I’m on a client call or wipe their own bum because I’m in the middle of something and they’re sick of calling for help.
For clarity, I’m a loving, attentive mother. I take time to admire the artwork, and I spend a lot of time engaged with my kids doing activities together, answering endless questions, and teaching them things. I believe one of the best things I can do for them is give them independence early and show them how many things they don’t need me for.
The summer my daughter turned 4, I made a hard rule: I wasn’t going to push any more swings. I was missing out on way too many good park bench chats with other moms while I stood mindlessly looking at her back and pushing her. Incredibly, in less than a week, she was flying higher than I ever pushed her. She was thrilled with herself, and I got my social time back.
I want my kids to learn through trial, error, and persistence to do things on their own. First, because I think those skills will set them up for success, and second, because I like to eat my lunch with both hands. I also trust my kids’ abilities, and seeing their confidence grow as they figure things out by themselves is a joy to witness. The kids calling out from the back seat that they’ve buckled their own booster seat while I’m still getting my own seatbelt done is a small display of independence that shows them they can do more without my help. I hope these self-sufficient moments now will, later on, equal confidence and a willingness to try.
I don’t limit myself to a single parenting style
When I read about the various parenting styles, from jellyfish and panda to authoritarian and attachment, I’m not sure where I fit.
I have moments of gentle parenting. I love the idea of free-range, but my kids are a bit young. I think I’ve got a bit of attachment combined with some authoritative parenting flair. Adding a neurodiverse kid in there means sticking to a method isn’t easy. Realistically, I think I’m a sandwich-in-both-hands type parent.
Whatever the name of the approach, my aim is to support critical thinking and empower independence in a safe environment. And I also don’t want to be cutting crusts, peeling grapes, and laying my kids’ clothes out into their teens. Some mornings, my daughter’s outfit choices are horrendously uncoordinated, but if she looks like she’ll be warm enough, we’re out the door. She’ll figure out quickly that layering two pairs of pants under a tutu with a wool sweater in August isn’t ideal for classroom comfort.
My kids are smart and capable, and I see them become even more so when I ignore them here and there and take a passive approach. Inevitably, they figure it out for themselves, learning to tie their laces, pump their legs, pick out the peas, or just eat the greens instead. They understand they’re capable of more than they realize. And I get to finish my sandwich, which feels like a win for everyone.
Read the full article here
