Reframing our failures: Good enough parenting is good enough

I grew up in an era where pass and fail were clearly defined. Teachers would liberally use red pen to denote wrong answers (especially in my maths book), and there was no sign of EBI (“even better if”) or just a coloured dot alongside answers that weren’t right. 

There were lots of areas where I had a clear idea of what ‘failure’ looked like. Some were obvious and very black and white (like maths), whereas others were not as clear-cut. 

So, what does success look like in a relationship? My 16-year-old self, probably overly influenced by what I’d seen on screen, likely equated that with constant, heady romance. Nearly 25 years into married life, my version of success looks very different. 

I’d always wanted to be a parent, loved children and young people, and had worked for years in youth work before growing our family. I was a fun auntie, babysitter, and friend to the children in our lives and had learned some things which made me believe I’d be a good parent. As we grew our family—first through adoption—we had weeks of preparation courses and assessments that confirmed to me that we were going to be good parents.

In this series, I’ll take a look at some of the giant, astonishingly daft decisions that I’ve made that have led to comic failure —alongside exploring some of the deeper failings that being a parent has revealed in me. 

If I’m honest, I was naive about what parenting would actually be like—perhaps even, at times, a little proud of what I would do differently to the people around me, who I perceived made mistakes that I would ‘never’ repeat. I resolved to be consistent, calm, wise, and prayerful. Therefore, I would raise children who were confident, kind, resilient, and faith-filled. Like the woman described in the Bible, my children would rise and call me blessed. 

And yet, here I am introducing a series on failing as a parent—something which I have done, and continue to do, repeatedly. A series rooted in my personal experiences, manifold ‘failures’, and oft-repeated mistakes. I’m not sure that the woman, with great vision and resolve to be a great parent, would approve—or perhaps even believe—that I would have failed to such an extent. 

But here we are. 

“Chat GPT, define failure” 
Failing [noun]: a weakness, especially in a person’s character; a shortcoming 
Failure [noun]: a lack of success 

For me—and perhaps for you (she says hopefully)—there have been the classic failures brought on by sleep deprivation and poor planning skills: arriving for a day out with no nappies, food, or a change of clothes; or going on a 9-hour flight with not a single dummy for either child who used them. There have also been repeated failures to maintain a gentle, calm voice; to keep up nightly, meaningful devotionals for all my children, always; and even the occasional failure to check what Dad has said first before answering! 

And then, of course, there are the kinds of failures that are perhaps harder to face—those rooted in my own weakness and immaturity. Finding myself in repetitive, cyclical ‘discussions’ with a teenager, and taking too long to realise that someone needs to be the grown-up (spoiler alert: it should be me). There is nothing quite like raising children to highlight the best and worst of who we are. 

We have the privilege of raising children through fostering, adoption, and birth. We’ve seen beautiful victories and breathtaking challenges. If a failure is defined as a lack of success, then what I have begun to realise is that I need to do better at recognising what success really looks like—alongside facing up to my part in learning from failure and helping to raise children who can too. 

In my inexperienced, life-before-kids world, I may have thought failure would look like disobedience—like someone slamming a door and shouting ‘I hate you’ or storming out of the house. And yes, sometimes it has looked like that in part—because in reality, success and failure are far more complex and layered. 

Perhaps failure isn’t based on whether a child or young person disagrees passionately with me, but more in how I respond to that? Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself—more of that to come. 

The perfect parent and other mythical creatures 

So many of us want to be great at raising kids—we want to feel like we’re getting it ‘right’. We can feel under huge pressure: from culture, from social media’s obsession with the fetishisation of parenthood (particularly motherhood), from church, from family, and from the pressure we put on ourselves. We can get obsessed with the idea that our children will only thrive if we get everything ‘right’—following every fad or trend, for fear that if we don’t, our children will be permanently scarred. 

We do this, most of the time, also knowing that it is impossible to do everything right all of the time! 

Funny old thing, raising children, isn’t it? 

The good enough parent and other words of encouragement 

I mentioned earlier that we have the privilege of being parents through adoption, and that part of that involved a preparation course (some of which I maintain would be helpful for all parents!). During this course, I learned about the concept of ‘good enough parenting’, developed by Dr Donald Winnicott, a British paediatrician and psychoanalyst in the 1950s. He suggested that as children grow, it’s actually healthy for parents to become less responsive—not absent, not disengaged, but less instantly available. It’s part of helping children become more independent and more resilient. 

Winnicott concluded that meeting our child’s emotional needs just 30% of the time is enough to raise well-adjusted, securely attached kids.

Read more:

Parenting your teenage children

What’s your parenting style: Are you a dry-clean parent?

What’s your parenting style? Are you a lawnmower?

Psychologist Edward Tronick reached similar conclusions through his “Still Face” experiments. He found that in a typical healthy parent-child relationship, parents are truly attuned to their children’s needs about a third of the time. Another third of the time, they miss it completely (something that I find very reassuring!). And in the remaining third, they get it wrong at first—but work to repair the connection. That process of rupture and repair, of trying again after getting it wrong, is what actually builds resilience in children. 

At the very least, failing doesn’t have to be fatal. Perhaps success includes failure? 

In the example of Jesus, who invites us to come to him as we are, promising forgiveness any and every time we confess our shortcomings, failing certainly seems to be part of the human experience that we need to accept. 

Does that mean we can throw caution to the wind and just wing it from here on in? I’m not sure that lines up with being a disciple of Jesus, committed to becoming more like him every day. 

Messed up today? Join the club! 

I wonder what things you might add to your list of ‘failures’ from the last 24 hours. If you’re reading this and can’t think of anything—get in touch and help the rest of us out! And if you’re reading this and, like me, could reel off any number of them—welcome along, you’re not on your own. 

In this series, I’ll take a look at some of the giant, astonishingly daft decisions that I’ve made that have led to comic failure (that I may title ‘Hindsight Is a Beautiful Thing’)—alongside exploring some of the deeper failings that being a parent has revealed in me. 

This series isn’t going to be about glorifying or celebrating failure, but about being real—about trying to deepen our thinking together to help us prayerfully consider what needs to change and what needs to be celebrated, so we can find freedom from guilt (which is not from God) and peace (which is freely given by him).