My 13-year-old son had been working hard all summer on his push-ups. When he started, he could barely do 10, but through sheer determination and daily effort, he’s now cranking out an impressive 110. He’s proud, and rightfully so—this kind of progress is something to celebrate.
The other day, as he showed off his new push-up count, I noticed something about his form. His arms weren’t bending as much as they should, and, wanting to help him improve, I pointed it out. “Hey, you might want to bend those arms a little more,” I said, hoping to teach him the right technique. But instead of the quick adjustment I expected, he froze. Without a word, he got up, ran to his room, and slammed the door behind him.
I figured I’d fix things quickly, so I did what we all tend to do these days—I called him. But as soon as he picked up, he immediately hung up on me. Ouch.
That’s when it hit me. What I thought was helpful feedback had felt like a blow to his pride. He was so proud of what he’d accomplished—going from 10 push-ups at the start of summer to 110 is no small feat—but instead of celebrating his hard work, I’d focused on his form. To me, it was a teaching moment; to him, it was like I was dismissing all his progress.
It’s funny how, as parents, we sometimes forget how much our words matter. Here was my son, just 13, showing me something he was genuinely proud of, and with one offhand remark, I managed to deflate him. My intention was to help, but I missed the bigger picture—his pride, his effort, and the fact that he was trying to show me how far he’d come.
Realizing I’d messed up, I knew I had to make it right. I grabbed a peace offering—a snack and a smile—and headed to his room. When he finally let me in, I started with an apology. I told him I was sorry for not acknowledging how hard he’d worked and for making him feel anything less than proud. I asked for a redo, a do-over, and a fresh start. We talked it out, and I made sure he knew just how proud I was of his dedication.
That moment reminded me of something important: progress isn’t just about getting things perfect, it’s about the effort and the journey. And parenting? Well, it’s progress too. Just like my son’s push-up goal, we’re figuring things out as we go. Sometimes, we get it right; other times, we miss the mark. But it’s always okay to ask for a redo. Celebrating the progress—ours and theirs—is what really matters.
