There are nights when my husband handles bedtime, and I try to take a moment for myself. The lights are low, the house is quieting down, and I finally sit. And then I hear the creak of a door. Footsteps. A voice. “Mommy, can you tuck me in?”
Some nights I’m patient. Other nights I snap. “Daddy already tucked you in. Go to bed.”
And that’s when she’ll pop back out again.
A new question.
A forgotten story.
A complaint about the fan being too loud, feeling scared, or the blanket feeling weird.
It used to irritate me. I felt like she was pushing boundaries. Testing me.
But over time, I realized something else was happening.
And when I shut her down too quickly, she circled back even more - louder, messier, more insistent. Because what she really needed to know was: Am I still welcome? Are you still here?
That realization hit hard.
Especially now, in this season of life after having my third child, moving away from family, and losing my mom. I’ve been stretched thin. Emotionally depleted. And it makes all the constant bids for connection feel overwhelming.
There’s guilt that lives there too. Because I know one day she’ll stop asking. One day, she won’t need my tuck-ins. But right now, she still does. And I don’t want to miss the deeper meaning of that.
This week, we’re unpacking the hidden message behind repeated misbehavior and how to shift from reacting to reconnecting.
Here’s what you’ll walk away with:
- Why repeated boundary testing isn’t always about disrespect and what it’s often trying to communicate instead
- A reframe that will help you see testing moments as feedback, not failure
- Scripts to help you lead calmly, even when you’re touched out or overwhelmed
- Real-life examples from my home (yes, the chaos is real here too)
- A reflection to bring you back to the kind of parent you want to be
If you’re a parent who’s ever wondered:
“Why doesn’t she just listen?”
This one’s for you.
