I'll Venmo you.

Disciplining my kids feels like walking a psychological tightrope in high heels. If I’m too soft, they’ll grow up thinking the world revolves around them and become the kind of adult who has public meltdowns in the coffee shop or on an airplane. If I’m too hard, they’ll go no-contact by 22 and talk about me with a therapist who specializes in “emotional trauma in early childhood.”

It physically hurts me to see them upset - especially when I feel like I’m the reason. I hold a boundary, they cry, and then suddenly I’m spiraling. Was that too much? Will they remember this moment forever? Will I be the villain in their memoir? But five minutes later they’re screaming at me because I asked them to put on socks and shoes to go outside in 30 degree weather.

I know kids need discipline and limits. I know “consistency builds safety.” But in actual practice? It feels like a constant gamble. I hold the line, and they lose their minds. Then I wonder, am I doing this for them, or just because I’m overstimulated and can’t take one more shriek?

I try to take a breath before reacting. Not because I’m enlightened or have it together or by any stretch of the imagination am a perfect, patient parent. But If I DON'T pause, I’ll probably say something I regret, and end up apologizing to both the child and my own inner child later.

(When I remember) that pause is everything. It’s what stands between “I’m parenting with intention” and “I’m just mad because they spilled acrylic paint on my freshly cleaned table" or "I am making sure you do not unalive yourself because were literally just on the roof."

I try to be kind, but firm. I try to set limits without turning into a dictator. But let’s be real: some days, I say things like “That’s it! No more ANYTHING!” and stomp away like I am the toddler.

And then comes the guilt and the worry. Then the 2 a.m. brain spiral: Am I crushing their spirit? Will they write about this in a college essay titled "Why I Have Trust Issues?"

But here’s what I keep coming back to: discipline isn’t the problem. It’s how we do it. And I’m not trying to control them - I’m trying like hell to guide them. To show them that it’s possible to be firm and kind. It's okay to mess up, as long as you repair. You can set a boundary and still be a safe place.

So I’ll keep doing the work. I'll keep going to therapy and working on MYSELF so that I can keep breathing through it and showing up for my kids. I'll keep apologizing when I get it wrong. And I'll keep hoping that someday when they’re grown, they’ll look back and say,

“Yeah, she lost her mind sometimes - but I always knew she loved me. And I turned out pretty okay.”

And if not... I’ll keep showing up, but I will also Venmo them for their therapy.

xoxo

Madi