Dear Mom,

I asked the kids today what it feels like when I say no to them.

Scotland said, “It feels like I don’t get ice cream. Like a beautiful parrot gets trapped in a bird cage.”

Idris said, “It feels like I’m a toy and I get ripped and someone throws me away in the trash can.”

I then asked them what it feels like when I say yes.

Scotland said, “I feel like I got two Texas Sheet Cake scoops from Jeni’s Ice Cream in one day. And the bird grew super large and broke the cage and flew away.”

Idris said, “I feel like a toy that can’t get ripped because I’m made out of metal.”

I’ve sat down to write to you multiple times about the word ‘no’. I have an entire letter saved on my computer about the different sides of saying no and the confusion that comes out of our society’s definitions of the word. 

Google and self-help and podcasts and TED Talks all spew contradictory information. Lean in. But don’t say yes unless you mean it. Say yes to every opportunity but also say no when you need to. Decline when it suits you but not too often. Protect yourself but don’t diminish your confidence. 

This gets murkier when it comes to women and how we’re told to walk through life. Break the glass ceiling, but not at the expense of other women. Take advantage of our connections and experience but don’t step up out of turn. Stand up for ourselves but don’t be aggressive.

It’s all quite confusing when it’s broken down and it gets worse when parenting comes into the mix. I’m not supposed to tell my kids no. I also am. Although not too often and not without explanation. They need to hear no at times. It builds character and resilience. But it must be done with thoughtfulness.

In order to approach this topic, I’ve decided I need to zoom in a bit. To find one specific angle of this subject as to avoid going crazy with its contradictions.

Today I’m going to talk about my tendency to say no to my kids, just because I feel like it.

It’s easy for me to tell myself that my kids need to hear the word no from me. They need to know that they can’t simply get what they want when they want it because they want it. That’s not going to teach them any lessons about life. They must understand the feeling of disappointment. They must know how to recover from not getting their way. They must learn to adapt. Life isn’t all about instant gratification and patience is key.

But that doesn’t mean I should wield the power to say no to them simply because I don’t feel like doing what they want me to do. I catch myself, too often, saying no with no good reason.

If I’m being totally honest, it’s not fair to them.

Whenever I say the word no to my kids, their response is always, without fail, why? And if I answer their whys with ‘because’ or ‘because I said so’ then I fear I’m only saying no because I feel like it. Or because I don’t feel like doing what they ask of me. 

Now, there are times, when saying yes to them requires me to get out of my comfort zone. Last week for example, we planned to go to the beach with friends. I wanted to say no. I wanted to back out last minute. I didn’t want to spend the day driving out to the beach to then have to deal with whiney kids who inevitably track home a carload of sand. I didn’t want to pack a massive bag of beach toys and snacks. I didn’t want to hear their complaints when they realized the Pacific Ocean is freezing.

I had to get over all of that. I had to allow them to experience a Southern California beach day during their summer holiday. I had to say yes because it was the right thing to do.

Surprise, surprise, it was a wonderful day. For six hours, the kids were completely unfazed by the coldness of the water. The only downsides were the slight sunburns and the sand I kept finding stuck on them even after showers. Neither of which caused the kids to complain. All they kept talking about was when we can go back to the ocean. I’d say, this was a day that was worth my saying yes.

We’re watching the Olympics this week and Scotland has decided she wants to be an Olympic gymnast. At first thought I wanted to scream no. I wanted to tell her to pick a different sport. A different dream. Gymnastics is expensive and time consuming and life sucking and bad on the body. But she’s seven. She should be able to dream, and I must stay out of her way. I should allow her to make her own decision down the road. Allow her to try.

I will not allow me to be her hinderance in life. 

But first, I must get out of my own way. I must get out of my comfort zone. I must stop being lazy. Because that’s what it comes down to ultimately. It’s laziness. My desire to say no, or my aversion to saying yes, is solely because I don’t feel like researching gymnastics classes in our area that we can actually afford. I don’t feel like driving her to class. I don’t feel like buying her all the things she needs to be the best when she’ll likely decide she doesn’t like it and wants to try a different sport instead. But what if I’m wrong? What if she proves to be good enough and proves to have the drive to work hard enough and has the natural talent to be the best and be an Olympian? What if I am the only thing standing in her way?

Then there are the other moments when I say no. The small ones that make no real sense. 

Over the weekend, Scotland and I were brainstorming ideas for a book we’re writing together. We made a voice memo on my phone of notes for our outline. Idris then wanted to add something and asked if he could make a voice memo. I said no. Why? Because. Because I didn’t feel like opening my voice memo app again. Seriously. That was the reason. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to have a voice. I just didn’t feel like saying yes.

And that’s a problem.

It’s a problem because he doesn’t understand my no without explanation. And I worry that maybe he will assume it’s because I believe his voice isn’t important enough to be recorded. If I’m being totally honest, his ideas were pretty amazing. Maybe not for our particular story, but he has great ideas, and I should have allowed him to record his words. Wouldn’t that have been such a special thing to have for later?

I’m discovering that my issue isn’t that I say no to them too often. It’s that I say no too often without thought. The big moments, like, signing up for gymnastics or making plans with friends, require me to stop and think. I have to look at the calendar. I have to do research. It’s easier to say yes when I have time to weigh my options. But when they approach me with a request for right now, I find myself saying no as a reflex. It comes out without any thought at all.

Can I play with the play-doh? No.

Can I listen to music on your phone? No.

Can I go on the Pilates equipment? Not right now.

Can I watch TV? I said no already.

Can I have a snack? Not yet.

Play doh? The only reason to say no is because I don’t feel like cleaning it up after. But they’re old enough now. They put it all away on their own and I just have to sweep up the crumbs they miss. Not a big deal.

Listen to music on my phone? Why not? Probably because I want to look at my phone or listen to a podcast. Two things I shouldn’t be doing while hanging out with my kids.

Pilates equipment? The only reason we say no is when we can’t be in the room to watch them. There is a strict rule in our home against being on the equipment when a parent isn’t in the room. But, unless I’m showering or in the bathroom, there is no real reason I should be saying no.

TV? Ok, that might be mostly valid. They don’t get to always watch when they feel like it. But I could also recognize that I’ve been forcing them to watch the Olympics all day every day lately and they just want a simple cartoon.

Snack? This one is tricky. My kids would graze all day if I allowed it. I do think I need to say no to snacking but not all the time. They are active kids and if they are hungry and want a piece of fruit. I can say yes. Again, they’re older now, they don’t even need my help getting the snack anymore. So why say no?

Am I saying no to them because I don’t want to be bothered? Is it my need to have space and not deal with the requests of a child? If so, where does that come from? I chose to have these kids. I shouldn’t be so annoyed when they ask me to do something. It does feel like it takes a whole lot less energy to say yes. It requires no explanation. No fighting. No arguing. No crying. No escalation. 

Saying no can be positive for me, and hearing no can be helpful to them, but that doesn’t mean they have to hear it all the time from me. I need to really ask myself why I’m saying no. Is it for their benefit? Or mine? If I have no good reason to say no, then why not say yes? Why not allow them to get their way?

School is about to start again. They will go all day with rules. Why not come home to a place where they can hear yes?

I can say yes to Scotland when she asks to workout with me. I won’t get to listen to my podcast, but I’ll have plenty of time for that while they’re at school. I can say yes when the kids want to help me put away laundry even if that means it won’t be perfect. I can allow them to help me cook or bake even if that means it might take longer and will be messier.

Hearing no might be important for growth, but so is hearing yes. Imagine how much more joyful their lives will be if they, at least some of the time, do get their way. They are usually asking me for things that bring them no harm. Why can’t they get what they want? Why can’t I play with them? Why can’t I give them piggyback rides to the other room? Why can’t they have that last piece of chocolate? Well, likely because I already ate it, but you get the idea, right? 

I say no to them for the simple reason that I don’t feel like saying yes and that must feel so shitty. I don’t want them to feel shitty because of me. Not if I can avoid it. It won’t always be perfect. This isn’t an exact science. But I am committing to saying yes more to my kids. To minimize my saying no without reason. Because, as I’ve said a million times to you already, there will be enough opportunities during their lives to hear no and to be disappointed. It doesn’t also need to come from me.

I can be their place of hope and joy. I can be the person in their lives who allows them the space to dream.

They can remember that their mom helped them feel like they always have enough ice cream and that they can’t be broken or caged. 

Because she said yes.

I love you, Mom.

Love,

Rachel