5.) To know life isn’t fair
There’s a disturbing trend in America, especially in youth sports culture. It’s called the “participation trophy effect.” I just made that up, so don’t cite some copyright law. I won’t respond to you.
The “participation trophy effect” says everyone is a winner.
“It’s OK, Billy. You didn’t win the game. But you still get a trophy. Everyone’s a winner out here.”
No, they’re not.
I’m so grateful for my background in sports. They taught me about life. And I learned more from defeat than victory. Participation trophies don’t prepare your children for real life. In real life, not everyone gets a trophy. There are winners and losers. But, through loss and rejection, you learn. You develop perseverance and grit. Defeat might break you down, but you have an opportunity to rebuild stronger than before.
I want my boys to see failure, rejection and loss as essential components of life. I want them to measure self-worth internally, not by a score on a scoreboard. I want them to know excellence and hard work matter. Life doesn’t give you a trophy because you show up. Sometimes you fail. But failure isn’t final.
6.) To say no and protect their boundaries
From the moment my boys could crawl, they pushed our boundaries. If we told them to stay away from the electrical outlet, they crawled to the electrical outlet. If we told them not to stand in the chair, they stood in the chair.
At first, I thought my kids were evil creatures who gained pleasure from my frustration.
Eventually, however, I realized they tested our boundaries because they wanted to ensure they actually existed.
Establish boundaries between your children and your expectations. They should clearly know what is appropriate. But you must also establish boundaries between your children and the endless barrage of activities and opportunities.
You can’t do everything. Your children can’t experience everything. To them, every opportunity looks good. It’s your job to keep your children grounded and prevent them from drowning in activities.
Overcommitment is one of the great idols of American Christianity. We worship this idol because it tells us we’re important and our children are gifted. And, unfortunately, we sacrifice our children on this altar. We enjoy the satisfaction from our children being the best. This gives us importance. But it creates teenagers stretched thin, obsessed with outward achievements and overcome with anxiety.
Your children might not say this, but they need you to say no.
