Learning to say "sorry" as a parent
In her column, Tracy shares experiences and lessons learnt as she navigates life and grows with her two boys. To share your views email Tracy on [email protected]
Image: File
It’s funny the things you learn about yourself when you become a parent.
You think you’re the teacher, the one imparting all the wisdom, but some days, I feel like I’m getting the most important lessons of all from my kids. I had one of those days. It was a lesson wrapped in a tiny pair of sneakers, and it was all about the power of "I'm sorry."
I was raised with that very old-school way of thinking. You know the one: "Respect your elders and when they talk, you listen without chiming in.”
It was a world where you didn't dare question authority, let alone try to offer a better answer. Respect was a one-way street, flowing from the young up to the old. And while I value respect immensely, I’m starting to see how that rigid framework can build walls instead of bridges.
Lately, we’ve been on a mission to teach our seven-year-old about responsibility. It’s a slow process, filled with reminders and a fair bit of patience. His new chores are simple: make his own bed in the morning and pick up his clothes from the floor. He’s actually been doing so well, and I’ve been puffing up with pride every time I see his neatly made bed.
I am learning so much from this one...my big boy
Image: Teacher
So there we were, I walked into the hallway and spotted his shoes laying on the floor, hiding under the couch. I felt that familiar flicker of mom-frustration. We’d been doing so well, and now this?
I called him. "Lovey, I asked you to pick up your shoes. Why are you not listening?" I said, my tone sharper than I intended. "You've been doing so well with your chores, please pick it up and put it away.”
He opened his mouth, his little face a mask of confusion. "But mommy, I did pick up the shoes..."
I wasn't having it. I was already on a roll, convinced of my righteousness. I pointed a finger right at the offending footwear. "I can still see the shoes right there. There are no buts about it."
"But mommy..." he tried again, his voice smaller this time.
"No buts!" I interrupted, my voice rising. "Please, just pick up the shoes and put them away, like I asked you the first time."
His little head lowered into his chest, and my heart gave a painful squeeze. But I stood my ground. He mumbled something, then finally said, "But mommy, I did pick up the shoes. Look."
He wasn't pointing to the shoes I was on about, but to the shoe corner by the door.
There, tucked away neatly, were his other shoes, the ones he’d worn while playing at ma the day before.
My heart nearly sunk to the floor. His voice was almost breaking as he explained, "I didn't see those shoes on the floor, mommy. I thought you meant the ones on the stairs. I picked them up."
In that moment, all my old-school conditioning crumbled. I stepped back, took a deep breath, and looked at my boy who had been trying so hard to do the right thing.
I knelt down to his level and the words just came out, heavy with sincerity. "I am so sorry, my boy. Mommy was wrong. I didn't see the other shoes, and I didn't give you a fair chance to explain. That wasn't fair, and I am so, so sorry I raised my voice."
The relief that washed over his face was all the confirmation I needed.
What’s even more amazing is that this new habit is rubbing off on my husband, who is much more old-school in his ways. He also grew up with the mentality of doing as you are told, adults are right - an 80’s baby.
But just recently, he and I got into a bit of a squabble over something silly, and our son was in the room. Later, I heard my husband go into our son's room and say, "Hey, big boy. I want to apologise. You heard daddy raise his voice earlier, and that wasn't right. Daddy was wrong to do that, and it's not the way we should talk to each other, especially not to mommy, who is a woman."
I believe with all my heart that this teaches our son more than any lecture ever could. It teaches him accountability that it’s okay to make mistakes, as long as you own them.
It teaches him that everyone, even mommies and daddies, have feelings that can get hurt. And most importantly, it builds character. It shows him that true strength isn't about always being right; it's about having the courage to admit when you're wrong. And that’s a lesson I’m so grateful we’re all learning together.