A start...
Let’s skip this year’s how to “start the year strong” conversation.
When the school year begins—whether your child is in first grade, a senior in college, or beyond—there’s always a push for new strategies, fresh routines, and ways to set them up for success. But at some point, we settle into the routine we have, whether we want to or not.
The Problem with Choreography
Take the year my daughter was in middle school. I practically choreographed her morning so she could catch the bus on time.
I’d wake her as I headed downstairs, make her breakfast shake in a travel cup, and set her backpack by the door. I’d place her clogs where she could slip them on easily. And then I—yes, I—would stand at the front door, watch for the bus to round the corner, and yell up the stairs so she could run down, grab her breakfast from the stairway post, slide on her shoes, sling on her backpack, and head out the door without a care in the world. It’s easy to be carefree when someone else is managing the details.
Of course, I’m overstating it. She had plenty on her mind, for example, her social studies quiz, whether her best friend was still her best friend, whether there’d be a fire drill so she could miss gym. But in my determination to get her to school on time and without conflict, I took away a chance for her to learn. Growth doesn’t happen in a friction-free life. It comes through struggle, mistakes, and frustration, followed by the satisfaction of success.
Finding Their Own Solutions
That learning can come from us as parents, but sometimes the bigger gift is simply allowing space for our children to figure things out themselves.
Isn’t that why we sign them up for swimming or piano lessons? To practice, to struggle a little, to get better. The same holds true at home. If our routines feel messy this fall, maybe that’s the point. Instead of chasing efficiency by doing more for them, we can step back and let them work through it.
If your child is late to school, forgets their soccer jersey, or leaves their violin behind, resist the urge to fix it for them. Help them brainstorm solutions, let them try, and let them experience the discomfort of mistakes. It’s hard to watch, especially when you can do it faster. But somewhere between “success” and “failure” lies “good enough,” the place where real confidence is built.
Maybe they tape a reminder note to the back door. Maybe they’re still late because the violin is upstairs, but at least they’re trying and, more importantly, learning. Progress is often slow, but worth the wait.
When my daughter, now a college graduate, started her first job in the city, she had to catch the train every morning. Guess who set out her bag and shoes by the door? One hint: not me.
Final Thought
Parenting an anxious child often means walking a fine line between helping and over-helping. Learning when to step back takes courage, patience, and practice—but it’s also one of the most valuable lessons we can model.
If you’re navigating this balance and want tools to support your child’s independence and resilience, learn more about our Parent Coaching Program (SPACE).