Beware the automatic yes and the automatic no

One of my children suggested we go to the beach for a quick dip one evening last week. After many years of being the one doing most of the suggesting when it comes to trips out and little adventures, I love it when one of them has a spontaneous idea. In fact, it’s a big relief that I rarely feel the need to nudge or gently cajole anymore. However, it meant a 20-minute drive, and I was pretty exhausted and about to get dinner going. As my child waited for my answer, I realised that I often find myself in the dilemma of whether it’s a yes or a no from me. Sometimes, both feel equally true, and I often have to sit in confusion for a few moments as I figure it out. I have also learned to keep an eye out for the automatic yes and the automatic no.

The automatic yes
Do you ever say yes to something your child suggests even when you are exhausted and have no capacity at all? It’s the last thing you want to do, but you agree because saying no fills you with guilt. It’s completely understandable, particularly when we’re unschooling. Our child isn’t at school, and we are responsible for meeting their needs. We may already be carrying the worry that we’re not doing enough, so turning down any suggestion they bring to us can feel deeply uncomfortable. What if they never want to do this thing again? What if that was the seed that could have led to some great new interest? What if today is the only day they want to go out this week? Who knows what opportunities could be lost forever because we once said no! No wonder we feel bad about it. I remember years ago lying awake at midnight next to a child who wanted to work out maths sums in their head. I was bone tired but had to come up with increasingly complicated additions and subtractions, and I was incapable of advocating for a good night’s sleep because saying no to maths in any shape or form felt terribly wrong.

Of course, there will be lots of times when it’s right to stretch ourselves—parenting will often ask us to go the extra mile. If you have a child recovering from school burnout, a suggestion from them may be a momentous step on the road to a better place, so harnessing it with an enthusiastic “Yes!” may well be worth it, even if it’s 11pm and you were just dozing off. There have been seasons of our life when everything has felt very quiet and at those times I would happily put tiredness or anything of my own aside and say yes to whatever suggestion felt like it would expand our world.

However, there is a difference between consciously choosing to go the extra mile, and abandoning ourselves, and sometimes the best answer for everyone is that we don’t have the time or the capacity, or that we could do it tomorrow or once we’ve had a chance to rest. Our children don’t need parents who are permanently exhausted, overwhelmed or resentful. They do need parents who know how to take care of themselves. And when we can explain our own limits, we are also modelling to our children what it looks like to honour our own needs and to have healthy boundaries that can be expressed without blame, shame or guilt. It’s a wonderful lesson in consent. My daughter was a great teacher for me in this. When she was younger, we had lots of different card games that she loved to play with me or her dad and she could play them for hours. Sometimes I wouldn’t have the capacity or time but would say yes anyway because I felt bad saying no. She could always spot a reluctant yes, and she would look me straight in the eye and ask if I really wanted to play. If my answer was less than an authentically enthusiastic yes, she would straight up refuse to play with me.

The automatic no
Alongside the automatic yes is the equally familiar automatic no. This is that sensible adult voice that immediately dismisses suggestions because they seem impractical, inconvenient or illogical. It tells us that there isn’t enough time, that we already have plans, or that what our child is proposing simply doesn’t make sense. This is the voice that wants things to run smoothly and interprets our child’s spontaneity as a potential spanner in the works.

I often catch myself in an automatic no before I’ve consciously even thought about it. Can we borrow Belle the spaniel and drive to our favourite park in half an hour’s time? Play an hour of Mario Kart? Completely rearrange a bedroom? What, now? No!

What I have learned is that I often feel an automatic resistance to things that feel initially either complicated (ie they require me making phonecalls and scheduling things this very moment), or because I have my own plan in motion. When I pause and really pay attention, I often realise that actually there is time, that the thing I thought was urgent can wait, and that the apparently ridiculous idea could actually turn into a wonderful afternoon. Some of my best memories have come from letting go of my attachment to the plan and what was “sensible” and allowing myself to step into my children’s world instead. And it’s great for children to be able to bring their ideas to the table and be trusted enough to explore them.

Of course, this doesn’t mean we have to say yes to every wild suggestion. But we can be alert as to where the no is coming from, and wonder if perhaps there is a lesson in here for us about busyness and modern life. Are there some “shoulds” that we could let go of? Is there something we can model to our children here that might be helpful for their lives? As a still-recovering perfectionist, it has been good for me to consider when an item on the to-do list is genuinely important and when it could be moved aside.

So, as the holidays roll on, see if you can pay attention to where your responses are coming from. The next time a child makes a suggestion and you notice some discomfort around it, see if you can pause and just sit with the request for a moment. Notice what emotions are coming up for you and how it all feels in your body. How does “yes” feel? And how does “no” feel”? Does the yes come from a place of guilt? In which case is this a moment for modelling self-care or is it a moment for going the extra mile regardless? Does the no come from a place of habit or control? In which case, what would happen if you let go a little?

Once we’ve spotted any automatic patterns and put them on pause, we can delve a bit deeper with our child. If the suggestion is a little complicated, we can bring our needs to the table too and see if there’s a way that we can figure this out together. We can let them know that it sounds like a great idea, but we also need to do a supermarket shop and be on a zoom call at 5pm. Or that we don’t think we have enough energy for that now, but maybe we could make it a plan for tomorrow. There is so much potential learning and connection in approaching things collaboratively.

So, I did initially say no to the beach trip, because it didn’t feel like a sensible plan. But then I repented fairly quickly and said yes instead. We had a blissful immersion that did me the world of good, and we ate late, but that didn’t matter at all. I also said yes to requesting Belle the spaniel, but she wasn’t free so that turned into a plan for the next day anyway. And I said a confident no to my involvement in rearranging the bedroom that day, but offered my services later in the week. And Mario Kart hasn’t actually come up for a long while, but I can honestly say that I have never regretted saying yes to an hour of Mario Kart.