Why I Stopped Fixing Things for My Kids

There are many ways to play Scrabble!

When our daughter was little, she built a tower of scrabble letters that toppled over just as, you guessed it, she reached for the final piece.

I’ll bet this scenario had happened many times before, but I distinctly remember this time—because I noticed myself and the situation, like an observer. The tears. The frustration. My attempts and soothing her. And how I jumped in, swept up the pieces, and expertly rebuilt it in seconds.

Rescuing is a reflex. We love our kids. We want to save them from hurt, reduce their struggle, and fast-track their joy.

It made her feel better.

It made me feel better.

She got to play with the thing she wanted. And I got to move on with my day.

But at what cost?

The Urge to Rescue

I recently attended a brilliant talk by Kathryn Berkett (https://www.engagetraining.co.nz/) on resilience. It turns out that protecting our kids from every bump and bruise—physical and emotional—can actually do more harm than good.

Without practice in handling discomfort, my kids and yours don’t build the internal wiring they’ll need for life’s bigger challenges.

But let’s be real.

Standing by and watching our kids struggle? It sucks.

It’s uncomfortable. It feels wrong. Every part of us wants to step in and make it better. So, how do we manage to not do it?

Three Ways to Break the “Fix It” Habit

I won’t pretend I’ve mastered this. I still sometimes find myself running around the house looking for my daughter’s tenor horn music minutes before she needs to leave for her rehearsal! But I do try to do the following:

1. Wait for an invitation: Before stepping in, I ask if they need help:

“Do you want me to help, or do you want to try a bit longer on your own?”

Sometimes they’ll say “yes,” but the question itself carries three powerful messages:

– It’s their problem to solve.

– I believe they can solve it.

– I’m here when they need me.

2. Narrate what I notice: Especially when my kids were younger, making gentle observations worked magic at times:

“That piece keeps falling. You’re working hard to figure it out.” “You’ve rebuilt it twice already—impressive persistence.”

This allowed me to actually do something without taking over. This was as much about providing quiet support as safeguarding against going batty!

3. Build a family culture where struggle is okay: Everyone struggles, even my Fairytale Fraud characters! They make mistakes, get frustrated, and face setbacks—just like us.

Join Bush, Pepper and Peek as they face struggle and learn resilience.

I've tried normalising struggle in our household. In fact, it has been such a mantra, that it is sometimes accompanied by teenage eyerolls! But hopefully the message has got through!

Stories are one of the low-stakes ways I've used to explore these themes. And next up in the Fairytale Fraud series, we’ll meet three elves—Bush, Pepper,

and Peek—who will provide the perfect launch into a conversation about resilience. 

I would have it with you already, but it's been a struggle in itself!

So no, I don’t fix every hypothetical tower anymore.

I sit nearby. I cheer when a piece stays on.

And when the whole thing crashes down again?

I wait and watch—sometimes escaping to my own space if teenage anger lashes out—but always ready to be the steady support they can come back to.

It’s not always easy to know what’s shaped my kids most—time, maturity, or these moments of perservering through struggle. But I’m proud of who they’re growing into—and I like to think this has something to do with it.

Cheering you on,

Katie

xx

🎈 Small Reflection

Need a reset too? Try asking yourself:“Do I give myself permission to struggle?” Everyone struggles, but some of us are hard on ourselves when we do.

⭐ Try This Challenge

Most stories have a story arch where something goes wrong. Next time you read a story with your child, ask:

“What would you have done in that situation?”

Let the conversation meander from there—you might be surprised where it lands.