What Shaped My Parenting Style
My Own Childhood
The first experience that shaped my parenting style was my own childhood. Because I never really experienced failure until my early twenties — when it came crashing down on me all at once — I knew that when I had a child, I wanted her to experience small failures along the way. My hope was that, as an adult, she’d have the skills to cope. I wanted her to learn the art of the struggle: pushing herself outside her comfort zone, but not so far that she’d be overwhelmed.
Well, I was in for an extra challenge, because God gave me a perfectionist. (I still don’t know where she gets that from.*) Let me tell you something about bright perfectionists: a lot comes naturally easy to them. Struggling is an even more foreign feeling for them than for others, and when they inevitably do experience it, they try to avoid it at all costs. I often see learned helplessness or avoidance of challenging work in my bright perfectionist students — work they are more than capable of doing.
Example: When my daughter Julia learned to ride a two-wheel bike, we got her a new one. The following summer, she pulled it out again. On day three, she fell. Hard. We didn’t see that bike leave the garage for the rest of that summer… or the next. No amount of encouragement could get her back on it. She hated the feeling of messing up and wanted no part of it.
The other piece I was intentional about was building a true connection and relationship based on mutual trust. Throughout my own childhood, I was often criticized for being “too emotional.” By the time I was a teenager, I not only tried to suppress my emotions, but I also didn’t feel comfortable sharing the ones I did acknowledge with my parents. I didn’t want that for Julia and me.
My goal with her has always been that, as a teenager, she’d feel comfortable enough to tell me big things like if she was thinking about having sex, and that as an adult, she’d choose to keep me in her life.
When Julia was 17 months old — and again at 3.5 years old — I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Both my mom and my mother-in-law cautioned me not to share too much with her. I couldn’t comprehend keeping something this big from my child. Of course she was going to notice differences — not only in my appearance, but in my energy. I shared everything with her in an age-appropriate way because I wanted to provide her with context. If I started lying to her at such a young age about something so profound, what kind of foundation of trust would I be building? I needed to tell her. And I’m so glad I did, because I always describe our love as fierce, and I believe our openness and honesty are a major part of that.
My Education and Love for Learning
I’m a teacher at heart. As a child, my sister and I would play “school,” and I was ALWAYS the teacher. In third grade, for career day, I dressed up as my teacher and was thrilled when she let me sit at her desk for the day. Everything I do tends to turn into a lesson — not in a condescending way, but because I love learning and want to share it with others in a way that’s easy for them to understand. So naturally, I went to college to become a teacher.
I attended Truman State University, which was an amazing time in my life. Their education program is a five-year master’s program in which you earn a BA in a core subject and a master’s in your preferred level of education. I majored in English and focused on elementary and middle school levels.
Sometimes I find myself frustrated, feeling like I’m repeating the same parenting education information over and over. “Why don’t they get this?!” Then I check myself and remember: I’ve never been a parent without my background in education and child development. Most parents don’t have that. They went to school for finance or nursing or business or no education at all. It’s MY job to teach them. Suddenly, the frustration melts away.
I also have a deep desire to learn. I get frustrated because I can’t consume information fast enough. Naturally, I also have a love for books and reading.
When Julia was a baby, I knew how important it was for her to hear a variety of words — and that to encounter vocabulary beyond normal conversation, you have to read to children. So, I would read her picture books, but I also read children’s chapter books like Matilda to her as I rocked her to sleep. I remember laying her on a blanket and reading her the entire bound collection of Beatrix Potter’s works.
For me, education is a major priority because, as cliché as it sounds, knowledge is power. Do I demand perfection in her school performance? Absolutely not! Remember, I have a perfectionist, and we’ve worked a LOT on developing a growth mindset. My expectation is simply that she does her very best. The result matters less to me — the journey toward that result is what I care about most.
Mr. Rogers
As a young girl, and throughout my childhood, I adored Mr. Rogers. I loved his slow, calming voice. I loved his cadence and the way he never rushed to explain a concept. I loved that he was musical. I loved that he acknowledged emotions and taught children what to do with them.
Fred Rogers saw television growing in popularity and noticed the niche of children’s programming. What he saw was that it was becoming louder, more violent, and more chaotic. He wanted to slow things down and teach what he believed was important in a gentle but impactful way. That’s how Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was born.
I remember one time, feeling particularly like an outsider for expressing my emotions, crying in a corner while my family laughed. I shouted, “Mr. Rogers likes me just the way I am!” And indeed, he did.
Just last year, Julia and I flew to Pittsburgh for the sole purpose of seeing his actual set pieces, sweaters, shoes, and puppets. We also drove to his hometown and visited his gravesite to pay our respects.
Mr. Rogers’ favorite number was 143. Why? Because it stood for “I love you.” I = 1 letter, love = 4 letters, you = 3 letters. 143. I’ve tattooed 143 on my wrist, and when Julia and I are apart, we hold up 1 finger, then 4, then 3, to say “I love you.”
When I get hot-headed, I try to channel his calm. I used to have a shirt that said, “Be the person Mr. Rogers always knew you could be.”
He was groundbreaking in speaking to children respectfully on such a large scale. But he wasn’t the first to recognize that children deserve the same respect adults do.
The Montessori Philosophy
That honor goes to Maria Montessori. She was an Italian trailblazer — one of the first women in Italy to become a doctor. When she was assigned to create a school in a Roman slum so the landlord wouldn’t be frustrated by unsupervised children while their parents worked, she had the courage to think outside the box. She observed the children, keeping what worked and abandoning what didn’t — regardless of tradition.
Ultimately, she concluded that we had always expected children to adapt to an adult environment, when instead, adults should adapt their environment to fit the needs of children. Fun fact: she was the first to create child-sized tables and chairs. When asked how she created the Montessori philosophy, she said, “I did not invent the method. I have simply given the children a chance to show me what they can do, and they have done it.”
When I was studying at Truman State, the focus was on traditional public school. We touched on other philosophies, including Montessori, but it was never the focus. It wasn’t until Julia was born that I really began exploring it. I loved its emphasis on independence, peace, and the importance of the environment. As I learned more, I realized I was already practicing much of it — and it felt incredibly natural to me. My husband once complained, “Our house looks like a preschool.” My response? “Good. That’s the point.”
I enrolled Julia in a Montessori preschool when she was two, and we both felt right at home. My orderly toddler experienced freedom within limits, and I continued to grow as a Montessori parent.
At the time, I worked at a nonprofit that helped resettle refugees and immigrants, managing all programs involving children from birth through 18. It was my dream job — until it wasn’t. That’s when the director of Julia’s school offered me a position there. I jumped at the chance.
Over the past seven years, I’ve been an assistant teacher, head teacher, manager, and now director. I love the school as if it were my own. I love sharing Montessori with others, and I adore our families and students — some of whom we’ve known for most of their young lives. Every year at our alumni event, I can’t help but weep for the first half hour as former students return taller, brighter, and more mature, yet still holding us in their hearts enough to come back.
So much has shaped how I parent and how I teach. But these topics above are the big jewels in the treasure chest. I can’t wait to share more, to help others define and refine their parenting style, and to offer tried-and-true ideas for raising independent, confident people.
*Sarcasm