What are the 4 pillars of parenting?

1. Love Them Even When You Want to Lock Yourself in the Bathroom

Yeah, we all love our kids. But I’m talking about something way harder than that warm fuzzy feeling you get when they’re sleeping peacefully (which, let’s be honest, might be the only time they look angelic).

I’m talking about loving them when Jared decides to “help” by reorganizing my spice cabinet and now I can’t find anything. Or when he has a complete meltdown at Target because I won’t buy him a $50 LEGO set. Or when Maddie cries for no reason I can figure out while I’m trying to make dinner and help with homework at the same time.

The moment that changed everything for me happened last year. Jared was struggling with reading – like, really struggling. Every night we’d sit down for homework and it was just… painful. He’d get frustrated, I’d get frustrated, and pretty soon we were both in tears.

One night he looked at me with these huge sad eyes and said, “Mom, am I stupid?”

I literally felt my heart break. Because I realized that in my stress about his reading, I’d been sending him the message that my love depended on how well he performed.

So now, no matter what happens, the first thing I do is remind him (and myself) that nothing – NOTHING – he does will change how much I love him. Bad grades? Still love you. Attitude? Still love you. Forgot to feed the dog again? Still love you (but you’re still feeding the dog).

With Maddie, this looks like staying calm during those 3 AM crying sessions when I have no idea what she needs and I’m running on like 3 hours of sleep. Sometimes I literally whisper, “Mommy loves you even though she’s about to fall over from exhaustion” just to remind us both.

This isn’t about being a pushover – I still have expectations and consequences. It’s about making sure they know that my love isn’t something they have to earn or can lose.

Pro tip: The 5 Love Languages of Children seriously saved my relationship with Jared. Turns out his love language is quality time, which explains why he follows me around like a puppy all day long.

2. Rules Aren’t Mean (They’re Actually Kind)

Okay, I used to think having lots of rules made me the mean mom. I wanted to be the fun one! The cool one! The one kids actually liked!

Spoiler alert: kids without boundaries are miserable kids. And parents without boundaries are even more miserable.

I figured this out when Jared was about 5 and I was trying so hard to be his friend that I forgot to be his mom. Bedtime was whenever. Dinner was whatever he wanted. Chores were optional. And you know what happened? He was anxious all the time because he never knew what to expect, and I was stressed because nothing in our house worked.

Now we have rules, but they’re not arbitrary “because I said so” rules. They make sense:

• We’re kind to each other (this covers everything from not hitting to not calling names)
• We clean up our messes (revolutionary concept, I know)
• We tell the truth even when it’s hard
• We do what we’re supposed to do before we do what we want to do
• We ask for help when we need it

The key is consequences that actually teach something. Like when Jared “forgot” to walk our dog Buddy for three days straight. Instead of just grounding him, we talked about what it means to take care of something that depends on you. His consequence was researching dog care and making a presentation to the family about what Buddy needs. He was actually excited about it and hasn’t forgotten since.

Even with baby Maddie, there are gentle boundaries. Consistent nap times, feeding schedules, and yes – letting her fuss a little to learn how to self-soothe. It’s not mean, it’s helping her figure out how the world works.

Positive Discipline completely changed how I think about this stuff. It taught me how to be firm without being harsh, which honestly seemed impossible before I read it.

3. Listen Like Your Kid is Actually Saying Something Important

This one took me forever to figure out because I’m a fixer. When someone tells me a problem, my brain immediately goes to SOLUTION MODE. But kids don’t always need solutions – sometimes they just need to be heard.

Perfect example: Last week Jared came home all upset because his friend Tyler didn’t want to play soccer at recess and wanted to play basketball instead. My immediate instinct was to offer fixes: “Well why don’t you play with someone else?” or “Maybe you could learn to like basketball too?”

But I’ve been practicing this thing where I just… listen first. So I said, “Tell me what happened” and then actually let him tell the whole story. And when he was done, instead of jumping to solutions, I said, “Wow, that sounds really disappointing. You were really looking forward to soccer.”

You know what happened next? He came up with his own solution. “I think maybe tomorrow I’ll ask Tyler if we can play soccer for half of recess and basketball for half.”

Like… he figured it out himself! When I stopped trying to fix everything and just listened!

With Maddie, listening looks different but it’s just as important. When she cries, I don’t automatically assume I know what she needs. I pay attention to different cries, different body language, different times of day. And I talk to her constantly – during diaper changes, while I’m making dinner, when we’re just hanging out. She can’t talk back yet, but she’s learning that her voice matters.

Some things that have helped us talk better:

• Phones stay in another room during dinner
• I ask about the best AND worst parts of his day
• I share stuff about my day too (age-appropriate stuff)
• When he’s upset, I try to understand the feeling before addressing the behavior
• I apologize when I mess up conversations (which happens more than I’d like to admit)

How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk has been a lifesaver. The techniques actually work, even when Jared’s being particularly 8-year-old-ish.

4. Let Them Mess Up (Even Though It Kills You Inside)

Oh man, this one is HARD. Every fiber of my being wants to protect my kids from every disappointment, every scraped knee, every mean kid, every failed test. But here’s what I’ve learned: when I do everything for them, I’m not actually helping them.

Jared wanted to learn to cook, so we started doing “Chef Jared Sundays.” The first few times were… disasters. Burned pancakes. Eggshells in the scrambled eggs. Flour literally everywhere. I was standing there with my hands practically shaking because I wanted to take over and do it right.

But I didn’t. And now he makes amazing breakfast and is so proud of himself. Plus he’s way more willing to try new things because he knows I trust him to figure stuff out.

Last month he forgot his library book on library day. Old me would have rushed to school with it because I couldn’t bear the thought of him missing out. New me let him experience what happens when you forget important stuff. Guess who hasn’t forgotten his library book since?