The idea that so many parenting missteps are about placement, not care, feels both clarifying and humbling.
This piece puts language to something many of us sense but struggle to practice consistently. Something that my wife and I struggle with daily and need to address.
Beautifully articulated, and quietly challenging in the best way :)
One thing that struck me is how much this is about time, not behavior. Who gets to decide when a moment is complete. Who gets to close the loop.
That feels bigger than parenting to me. It shows up in friendships, partnerships, workspaces. Any place where one person moves faster with meaning than another. Sometimes we call that leadership. Sometimes we call it efficiency. Sometimes we call it emotional intelligence. But it can quietly do the same thing you describe here. It relocates the work of experience.
I wonder if what you are naming is less about raising children who can stand on their own, and more about raising people who trust unfinishedness. Who know that not knowing yet is a legitimate place to stand. That feels quietly radical in a culture that rewards speed, clarity, and articulation. This piece feels like a counterweight to that whole posture.
Thank you for always just helping me better a better me in general :)
Listened to on drive to work and then studied the print once arrived. This is brilliant yet again Erin. I feel like I have intuitively known much of this based on my own good fortune of knowing my own parents were always (ok most usually) there for me without actually ever getting in my way (this part is probably more true since I sure did a lot of figuring on my own), but to have someone spell it all out in such a concise and coherent way truly helps deepen and ingrain the understanding… and ultimately the practice. You should really write a book…I would buy it like for sure !
I agree with this. My middle child is in middle school, and watching her live life-- she's just so awkward. But the scaffolding of community around her that I have built is amazing. From a very young age, I can tell that I am not her favorite parent. She and I clash a lot. So instead, I let her dad do most of the parenting because he is my partner and I trust him. And I went through the IEP process last school year to make sure there are three extra loving, caring adults for her to reach out to if she needs it.
You see, she reminds me of me when I was that age. The difference is that my mom screamed at me a lot. So I have the chance to to better than my mom did. I love my mom; she and I have a great relationship now because she's great at long-distance relationships with her adult kids. She did the best that she could.
My daughter gets to live the childhood I didn't. She'll flop around like an awkward duck trying to learn how to swim. But eventually, everything will smooth out and she'll learn the tools that she'll need to be graceful.
This is a stunning example of what it can look like to stay in the work without needing to be the center of it. The way you’ve built scaffolding (love that word!) around her shows so much restraint and care. Especially when your own history could easily push you to step in harder. And letting her struggle *while* making sure she’s not alone in it is no small thing. That’s real positioning.
I witnessed this first-hand growing up in another family, and let me tell you, it's carried over into adulthood. It's done so much damage and the saddest thing is that it's invisible to those involved. They wonder why things are the way they are, or why certain things happen the way they do. It's so hard to allow your children to fail, especially when you're watching it in real time. But, if you allow it to happen when they're young with guardrails, adulthood might not be so tough. Train up the way a child should go, and they will not depart from it. They might stray, sure, but at least they're close to the road they need to be on.
This is a powerful example, Maury. When these patterns form early, they don’t announce themselves as “the problem”—they just become the way things are. And by the time the damage is obvious, it’s often disconnected from the moment(s) that shaped it.
And I couldn’t agree more that letting kids struggle, with guardrails, is hard—even brutal—in real time. Watching often takes far more discipline than intervening. But that space, when held well, makes all the difference in the long run.
Erin, I thank you. My teenage girls thank you. My wife thanks you.
“Stillness can register as negligence. Waiting can feel indistinguishable from failure. In those moments, movement becomes tempting—not because it’s needed, but because it soothes our own unease.”
Such a keen awareness - why are we moving? For them or because of our own discomfort.
Thank you for this, James. I had to check myself just yesterday on a call with my college freshman—wanting to move the moment along when it didn’t actually need me to.
Grateful to be figuring this out alongside you—and parents like you! 🧡
The idea that so many parenting missteps are about placement, not care, feels both clarifying and humbling.
This piece puts language to something many of us sense but struggle to practice consistently. Something that my wife and I struggle with daily and need to address.
Beautifully articulated, and quietly challenging in the best way :)
One thing that struck me is how much this is about time, not behavior. Who gets to decide when a moment is complete. Who gets to close the loop.
That feels bigger than parenting to me. It shows up in friendships, partnerships, workspaces. Any place where one person moves faster with meaning than another. Sometimes we call that leadership. Sometimes we call it efficiency. Sometimes we call it emotional intelligence. But it can quietly do the same thing you describe here. It relocates the work of experience.
I wonder if what you are naming is less about raising children who can stand on their own, and more about raising people who trust unfinishedness. Who know that not knowing yet is a legitimate place to stand. That feels quietly radical in a culture that rewards speed, clarity, and articulation. This piece feels like a counterweight to that whole posture.
Thank you for always just helping me better a better me in general :)
Every time I read your work, I’m inspired to be better and have practical ideas on how to do so. Thank you 👊🏻
Thank you, my friend. 🧡
Listened to on drive to work and then studied the print once arrived. This is brilliant yet again Erin. I feel like I have intuitively known much of this based on my own good fortune of knowing my own parents were always (ok most usually) there for me without actually ever getting in my way (this part is probably more true since I sure did a lot of figuring on my own), but to have someone spell it all out in such a concise and coherent way truly helps deepen and ingrain the understanding… and ultimately the practice. You should really write a book…I would buy it like for sure !
So happy Erin, have a great day xo
Thank you so much for taking the time to listen *and* read it that carefully, Kai. That means more to me than you know.
What you describe about your parents—being there without getting in the way—is such a gift, and it’s powerful to hear how that shaped you.
I really appreciate you sharing this. And thank you for the book encouragement—it genuinely made my day.
I agree with this. My middle child is in middle school, and watching her live life-- she's just so awkward. But the scaffolding of community around her that I have built is amazing. From a very young age, I can tell that I am not her favorite parent. She and I clash a lot. So instead, I let her dad do most of the parenting because he is my partner and I trust him. And I went through the IEP process last school year to make sure there are three extra loving, caring adults for her to reach out to if she needs it.
You see, she reminds me of me when I was that age. The difference is that my mom screamed at me a lot. So I have the chance to to better than my mom did. I love my mom; she and I have a great relationship now because she's great at long-distance relationships with her adult kids. She did the best that she could.
My daughter gets to live the childhood I didn't. She'll flop around like an awkward duck trying to learn how to swim. But eventually, everything will smooth out and she'll learn the tools that she'll need to be graceful.
This is a stunning example of what it can look like to stay in the work without needing to be the center of it. The way you’ve built scaffolding (love that word!) around her shows so much restraint and care. Especially when your own history could easily push you to step in harder. And letting her struggle *while* making sure she’s not alone in it is no small thing. That’s real positioning.
Thank you so much for sharing this, Kate!
I witnessed this first-hand growing up in another family, and let me tell you, it's carried over into adulthood. It's done so much damage and the saddest thing is that it's invisible to those involved. They wonder why things are the way they are, or why certain things happen the way they do. It's so hard to allow your children to fail, especially when you're watching it in real time. But, if you allow it to happen when they're young with guardrails, adulthood might not be so tough. Train up the way a child should go, and they will not depart from it. They might stray, sure, but at least they're close to the road they need to be on.
This is a powerful example, Maury. When these patterns form early, they don’t announce themselves as “the problem”—they just become the way things are. And by the time the damage is obvious, it’s often disconnected from the moment(s) that shaped it.
And I couldn’t agree more that letting kids struggle, with guardrails, is hard—even brutal—in real time. Watching often takes far more discipline than intervening. But that space, when held well, makes all the difference in the long run.
Erin, I thank you. My teenage girls thank you. My wife thanks you.
“Stillness can register as negligence. Waiting can feel indistinguishable from failure. In those moments, movement becomes tempting—not because it’s needed, but because it soothes our own unease.”
Such a keen awareness - why are we moving? For them or because of our own discomfort.
🙏♥️
Thank you for this, James. I had to check myself just yesterday on a call with my college freshman—wanting to move the moment along when it didn’t actually need me to.
Grateful to be figuring this out alongside you—and parents like you! 🧡