Tag: mindful-parenting

“Just One More…” — What Bedtime Battles Taught Me About the Stoic Virtue of Temperance

On By Ian ToalLeave a comment

When my son kept reaching for one more snack, one more story, one more show ( or at least the first 5 minutes to see what happens) — I realized the most loving thing I could do wasn’t saying yes, but holding the line with purpose, clarity, and care.

This is Part 4 of a four-part series on incorporating Stoic principles into my son’s and my life. Each post explores one of the core Stoic virtues, finishing with Temperance.

Temperance:

Desire always asks for more.
Temperance knows when enough is enough.

It always starts with a plea:

“Just one more…”

One more minute.
One more snack.
One more video.
One more chapter, even after we agreed it was the last.

My son says it almost without thinking.
But I hear it for what it is:
A test.
A request.
A reaching out for more —
and maybe a way to delay the next thing he doesn’t want to do.

And the truth is, sometimes I want to say yes. Because I’m tired. Because he’s cute. Because one more feels easier than a meltdown. And I don’t want some moments to end either. Sometimes I’d love to give in — to stretch bedtime a little longer, to enjoy just one more laugh or cuddle. But I’ve come to see that parenting isn’t only about the moment. It’s also about the bigger picture — about what’s healthiest and most meaningful for both of us in the long run.

And that is what Temperance asks of us.

It asks for steadiness, not surrender.
For clarity, not control.
It invites me to stay grounded — even when the easy answer is yes.

Not just for me. But also for him.

Temperance Means Holding the Line with Love

The Stoics saw Temperance not as denial, but as discipline with purpose.
It’s knowing what’s enough — and having the strength to stop there.

The nights, when I said no to a third snack, or paused the screen when the timer beeped, or held him while he cried because he didn’t get what he wanted — that was Temperance too.

Not because I was cold. But because I was clear. Because I was present. Because I wanted to teach him that limits are love, not punishment.

Because love isn’t always about saying yes — it’s about knowing when to say it’s been enough. It’s helping him feel safe in a world that doesn’t bend to every whim. It’s showing him that his needs matter more than his impulses. And that the people who care for him will guide him through disappointment, not avoid it.

A Bedtime Battle, A Bigger Lesson

Last week, he hit his limit. We were three requests past lights out. He had asked for another snack, another video, another glass of water, another everything. And when I gently said, “No more tonight, bud. It’s time to get to bed,” he broke.

Tears. Yelling. Arms crossed tight.
And then finally, climbing into my lap with his face buried in my shirt.

He didn’t need the snack.
Or the screen.
He needed me — to give him some limits and help him reset and get ready for bed.

So I held him.
Not to fix it.
Not to make it go away.
Just to let him know the boundary was still there—
and so was I.

That, too, is Temperance.

Begin With Purpose

Temperance isn’t about being strict for the sake of it.
It’s about starting the day with intention—
and ending it with care.

That means deciding throughout the day: What matters the most right now? And holding that line when things get loud, messy, and emotional.

Even when your kid says,
“Just one more…”

You breathe.
You hold the line.
You love them through it.

Because the world doesn’t need more indulgence. It needs more calm and rational moments. More clarity. More parents who are willing to begin with purpose.

Try This Tomorrow:

For You:
Pick one area where you often give in, out of exhaustion.
Decide ahead of time what “enough” looks like.
Stick to it, gently and without apology, throughout the day.

Together:
Let your child know the plan ahead of time: one show, one snack, one story.
Then offer something more lasting: a snuggle, a conversation, a moment of stillness.

Final Thought

Boundaries aren’t walls.
They’re garden fences,
built to protect what we love.

And inside those fences,
with presence and purpose,
nourishment grows.

The Light Inside: Teaching Kids to Find Their Courage

On By Ian ToalLeave a comment
We can all be brave. We just need to trust ourselves

What a walk through the dark, a quiet warning, and a single statement taught me about courage.

by A Mindful Dad’s Life

Fear is a shadow. Courage is a flame. That’s how the Stoics saw it — not just as bravery, but as the foundation for moral action. A light that helps us step rightly, even when fear is near.

We were leaving a school event not long ago.
The night was cool, and we were walking back to the car.

I asked my son to stay close.
Not because I wanted to scare him,
but because earlier, near the woods,
I’d seen a man who had shouted at people passing by.

I just wanted him aware.
Safe.
Close.

He stayed beside me, as I’d hoped.
But once we were in the car, he looked at me and said something that stuck:

“Kids are pretty helpless. Boys and girls are pretty much defenseless.”

His words landed heavy.
Because I don’t want him moving through the world with that belief.
Not as my son. Not as himself.

Courage Means Acting Even When Afraid:

Here’s what I hope he learns instead:

Courage — Andreia — doesn’t mean being fearless.
It means feeling the fear and still doing what’s right.

Like this:

Can I protect him from every risk?
No.

Can I make the world safe wherever we go?
Not always.

But I can teach him how to face fear without freezing.
I can show him how to step into the braver path when it matters.
That’s Courage. And it’s steady. Quiet. Strong.

For the Stoics, courage was more than boldness — it was ethical strength. Without courage, wisdom stays unspoken, justice goes unseen, and temperance withers. Courage lights the way for all the other virtues to act.

A Tool for Both of Us:

So here’s the practice.

When fear shows up — whether it’s a shadow in the woods,
a tough question in class,
or the moment before trying something new —

Pause.

Ask:
“What would the braver me do right now?”

Then take that step — big or small.
Because you are not helpless.
You are not defenseless.
You are learning every day to be strong, thoughtful, and brave.

Try This Tomorrow:

For You: Notice one moment today where you feel hesitation. Ask yourself: “What’s the braver choice?” Take that step, even if it’s small.

Together: Ask your child to share a time they felt afraid today. Then share one of your own. Talk about the brave step you each took — or could take next time.

Final Thought:

Fear will always be there, a shadow.
But so will courage, a flame.

And courage doesn’t need to roar.
It just needs to whisper “try.”

Every time you listen to that whisper, you light a flame — one that guides you, and one that shows your child how to walk the path with courage too.

We’re not just raising kids. We’re raising ourselves, too.

If you’ve got a saying that works to help your kids be brave— drop it in the comments. Maybe it helps another parent or child light their path.

Because all of this? It’s practice. And practice makes a path we can walk clearly.

This is part 2 of a 4-part series on teaching young children Stoic Virtues. You can find part 1 Here:

Roots Before Wings: Helping Our Kids Build Resilience That Lasts a Lifetime

On By Ian ToalLeave a comment

By A Mindful Dad’s Life

The Quiet Lessons We Teach on Calm Days

Resilience isn’t built in the storm. It’s built on sunny days, in small, quiet moments when life feels easy and our kids feel safe.

Picture this: your child sits at the kitchen table stacking blocks, their tongue peeking out in deep concentration. The tower wobbles. It crashes. For a second, their eyes well up, frustration rising fast. And here’s the moment that matters: do we swoop in to rebuild the tower, or do we teach them how to take a breath and try again?

These everyday moments, when the stakes are low and the world feels safe, are where we lay the foundation for how our children handle life when it gets messy. The roots we plant today will help them to grow the wings they need tomorrow.

Why Resilience Matters

Life won’t always be kind to our kids. They’ll lose friends, miss shots, fail tests, get their hearts broken, and face disappointments we can’t shield them from.

We can’t promise to protect them from every storm, but we can teach them how to stand in the wind and the rain without breaking.

Resilience is more than “bouncing back.” It’s helping our kids understand what’s important, how to process their emotions, and take action even when life feels overwhelming. And the time to start isn’t when things are hard. It’s right now, when things are good.

1. Teach Perspective Before the Storm

Kids live in the moment, which can make small setbacks feel enormous. One of the greatest gifts we can give them is the ability to zoom out, to see that challenges are temporary and failures are part of growth.

  • Share your own stories of struggle and recovery. Let them hear how you failed, got frustrated, and figured it out anyway.
  • Use simple language: “This feels big now, but one day it won’t. You’ll get through this.”
  • Help them separate who they are from what happened. Missing a shot doesn’t mean they’re a bad athlete. Failing a test doesn’t mean they’re not smart.

Resilient kids see failure as information, not identity.

2. Help Them Name Their Feelings

Resilience isn’t about “toughening up”, it’s about emotional awareness. When kids can name what they’re feeling, they can manage it instead of being overwhelmed by it.

  • When your child is upset, ask, “What are you feeling right now?”
  • Validate their emotions instead of rushing to fix them: “I understand why you’re frustrated. That makes sense.”
  • Teach that feelings come and go like the weather. Sadness, anger, fear, none of them last forever.

When kids know that emotions are natural and temporary, they gain the confidence to work through them instead of avoiding them.

3. Celebrate Effort, Not Just Results

Resilience grows when kids learn that their worth isn’t tied to winning. By focusing on effort over outcome, we give them permission to keep trying even when things don’t work out.

  • Praise the process: “I’m proud of how hard you worked,” not just “I’m proud you won.”
  • Give them challenges slightly outside their comfort zone: fixing a toy, planning a family activity, or helping cook dinner.
  • When they succeed, focus on what they learned and how they felt along the way, not just the finish line.

Effort builds grit. Grit builds confidence. Confidence builds resilience.

4. Model What Moving Forward Looks Like

Our kids learn more from watching us than from listening to us. When we handle setbacks with patience, self-compassion, and problem-solving, we’re showing them the blueprint for resilience.

  • Talk out loud about your own challenges and how you approach them.
  • Admit when you make mistakes, and let them see you try again.
  • Show them that it’s okay to ask for help.

Resilience isn’t pretending to have it all together. It’s showing up, learning, and moving forward, even when it’s hard.

When the Hard Days Come

There will be moments when your child faces something you can’t fix. A friendship ends. A dream slips away. A door closes.

That’s when your groundwork matters most.

Because if they’ve practiced naming their feelings, shifting their perspective, and trusting their own ability to recover, they’ll already know what to do: breathe, feel, think, act.

And maybe they’ll even remember something you said in a quiet kitchen years ago:
“This hurts now. But you’re stronger than you think. And this is not the end of your story.”

And maybe in that moment, they’ll remember something you told them, and something you lived through. Because resilience isn’t just something we teach; it’s something we’ve had to earn ourselves.

Take time to share those moments with your child: the times you struggled, the times you stumbled, and the times you kept going. Let them hear how perspective, emotional honesty, and persistence helped you move forward. When they see that these lessons mattered in your life, they’ll carry them forward in their own.

Roots Before Wings

We give our kids roots: belonging, love, security. But we also give them wings: courage, grit, confidence, and hope.

One day, they’ll face a storm you can’t stand in for them. And they’ll rise, not because life got easier, but because you helped them practice being strong when life was calm.

Resilience isn’t built in the storm. It’s built in the sun. And it starts with us.

If this resonated with you, start today: notice the small moments, speak kindly through the little frustrations, and talk with your child about how they feel, even when everything’s going fine. Resilience begins when we choose to be present, not perfect.

When Tightening the Reins Backfires – Quick Parenting Tips

On By Ian ToalLeave a comment


Tightening the reins too much can turn a small attitude problem into a power struggle. Here’s how to stay calm, offer choices, and build trust with your kids.

Kids push back harder when they feel powerless. Tightening the reins too much can turn a small attitude problem into a full-on power struggle. Here’s how to stay calm and keep the connection strong:

✅ 1. Pause Before Reacting

Take a breath before laying down a consequence. A calm response works better than a sharp one.

✅ 2. Ask What’s Behind the Attitude

Is your child tired, frustrated, or just needing to feel some control? Figuring this out changes how you respond.

✅ 3. Offer Choices Within Boundaries

Instead of “That’s it, you’re done,” try saying something like:
“Do you need a quick break, or should we wrap this up now? It’s your choice.”

Kids often relax faster when they feel included in the decision.

✅ 4. Let Go of Needing to “Win”

Parenting isn’t about winning every moment—it’s about building trust. The more curious and patient you are, the quicker the attitude melts away.

Parenting isn’t about perfection—it’s about showing up, time and again, and growing right alongside your kids.

When Tightening the Reins Backfires: A Mindful Dad Lesson

On By Ian ToalLeave a comment

“As soon as I tightened the reins because she had attitude, the attitude got worse.”

A fellow parent said this to me recently, and I couldn’t help but nod. I’ve been there. Honestly, I live there sometimes.

My first instinct, whenever my son pushes back, is to push harder. If he rolls his eyes or mutters something under his breath, my mind goes straight to “Oh no, we’re not doing this.” So I tighten the reins, stricter rules, sharper tone, less wiggle room. I want to make sure he knows I’m serious.

But you know what happens almost every time? His attitude gets worse. The tighter I pull, the harder he pulls back.

And when I step back and think about it, it makes perfect sense.

Why Tightening the Reins Doesn’t Work

Kids, like us, hate feeling controlled. When I tighten the rules without giving him room to breathe, I’m not just setting boundaries, I’m sending the message that I don’t trust him to manage himself. And that message, even if I don’t mean it that way, makes him want to fight back. I usually know when he feels controlled because his first response is to say, “That’s not fair.”

I get it, it’s human nature. We all want to feel heard, even when we’re wrong. And I think for dads, especially, there’s this pressure to be the enforcer. We’re supposed to keep things under control, to be the one who doesn’t bend. But I’m learning control and leadership aren’t the same thing, and my son doesn’t need a warden. He needs a guide.

What I’m Trying Instead

I’ve been experimenting with something different lately. Instead of going full drill-sergeant, I try to pause and ask myself:

  • “What’s behind this attitude? Is he frustrated, tired, embarrassed, or just trying to feel in control of something?
  • “What’s the real issue here, and what’s the outcome I want?”

Then, instead of just laying down the law, I give him choices within the boundary. For example:

  • Instead of: “You’re done with screens for the day, because you can’t talk to me like that.”
  • I’ll try: “You can take five minutes to cool off and then play, or we can turn the game off for the night. Which do you want to do?”

He doesn’t always like the options, but giving him a say changes the energy. He’s not being forced, he’s choosing. And sometimes, now that he’s getting a little older, he’ll offer up his own choice. When that happens, I stop and really listen, so he feels heard. I ask myself if his idea still fits the boundary, and if it does, I work it in so we both win.

Child psychologists say kids push back harder when they feel powerless—it’s a survival instinct. Giving choices, even small ones, tells their brain they’re safe, and they calm down faster. I’ve seen it happen in real-time; his shoulders relax, his voice softens, and we move forward instead of spiraling into a power struggle.

The Hardest Part (For Me, Anyway)

Here’s the truth: mindful parenting isn’t about being soft or letting things slide. It’s about letting go of my need to win every moment.

And that’s tough. Because when I’m tired or stressed, “winning” feels easier than connecting. Tightening the reins feels like control, but it’s usually just me reacting instead of teaching.

I’m learning that the more curious I am, the more patient I stay, the faster the attitude melts away. It’s not perfect. Sometimes I still snap, but on the days I manage to pause, we both end up calmer.

A Work in Progress

I’m not writing this as someone who has it all figured out. I still struggle. But every time I pause instead of pounce, I feel like I’m gaining something important, his trust.

And I keep reminding myself: I don’t want my son to just follow my rules. I want him to learn how to manage his own emotions, make good choices, and trust me enough to talk when things feel hard.

That doesn’t happen when I tighten the reins too hard. It happens when I guide, listen, and sometimes let go just enough for him to grow.

The real question I’m asking myself now is: Am I trying to raise an obedient kid or an emotionally intelligent one? Because the answer changes how I parent.

Your Turn

Have you ever had this happen, where tightening the reins just made things worse? What worked (or didn’t work) for you?

Parenting isn’t about perfection, it’s about showing up, time and again, and growing right alongside our kids.

Originally published on Medium

Should You Stay Together for the Kids? Why Sometimes the Answer Is No (Part 1)

On By Ian Toal1 Comment

By A Mindful Dad’s Life

One night, my son’s mother and I got into an argument.

I had always made it a point to protect our son from that kind of conflict. I’d go in late to work or take time off just to ensure we could talk privately about disagreements. I believed, and still do, that children shouldn’t have to carry the emotional weight of their parents’ problems. And I thought his mom and I were on the same page.

But that night, things broke down.

She started venting, then yelling, and I didn’t respond well. It went on for maybe ten minutes. The things she was yelling about weren’t just about me or us. They were about life, stress, frustration, things I couldn’t fix in that moment, but her words always circled back to what I had done wrong. When it finally ended, I went to my son on the couch. He had turned the volume on the TV up high to block us out. I sat next to him for a while, then gently suggested we start getting ready for bed.

After I read him three books, I brought up what happened. Not in detail, just in broad strokes, enough for him to know that it wasn’t his fault. I told him I was sorry he had to hear us argue. And I said something I believe every child needs to hear:

“Most people don’t fight and yell like your mom and I did tonight. Most couples, when they’re in love, are kind to each other, and listen, and treat each other with respect.”

He looked at me, really looked at me, and said:

“Oh thank God. I thought everyone was like this.”

I laughed a little, and then I told him the truth. That when he starts dating, he gets to choose. He can be in a healthy, loving relationship. One that is built on kindness, respect, and compassion.

The Hidden Cost of Staying “For the Kids”

Many parents believe that staying together, no matter how unhappy the relationship has become, is what’s best for their child. It seems selfless. It seems responsible. But science and psychology tell a different story.

What Children See Becomes Their Blueprint for Love

From a psychological perspective, the emotional environment children grow up in forms the foundation for how they understand love, trust, and safety. According to attachment theory, early experiences with caregivers shape not only how children see themselves, but also how they approach relationships for the rest of their lives.

If children grow up witnessing coldness, disrespect, unresolved tension, or constant conflict, they may internalize those dynamics as “normal.” Worse, they might believe that love has to come with pain, yelling, or emotional disconnection.

In contrast, when children see healthy conflict—disagreements handled with respect, boundaries, and mutual understanding—they learn that love can be safe and constructive. Even divorce or separation, when handled with care, can model positive emotional resilience.

The Myth of “Shielding the Kids”

You may think, “We don’t fight in front of them. They’re fine.”

But children are perceptive. They notice when the air is heavy with unspoken resentment. They pick up on the tone, the cold shoulders, the sudden silences. As researcher John Gottman found in his studies of family dynamics, even infants can sense emotional discord in the home.

Children don’t need to witness a screaming match to feel unsafe—they just need to feel the absence of warmth.

What the Research Says

  • A longitudinal study from the University of Notre Dame found that children exposed to regular parental conflict were significantly more likely to suffer from anxiety, depression, and low self-esteem—even into adulthood.
  • In contrast, children from divorced or separated homes fared better when the separation reduced exposure to hostility or emotional dysfunction.
  • According to the Journal of Family Psychology, the quality of the parent-child relationship and the level of inter-parental conflict are far more predictive of child outcomes than whether the parents remain married.

The Cost to Parents—and Their Ability to Parent

Trying to “hold it together” in a toxic or disconnected relationship often leads to burnout, anxiety, or emotional shutdown. You become less present, less patient, less emotionally available.

You may still love your child, but it gets harder to show up for them in the ways they need.

That night, after the argument, I did show up. I held space for my son’s confusion and gave him something he could hold onto—a vision of what love should be.

But that moment also made something clear to me:

If the environment we create is one where our child says, “I thought everyone was like this,” then we’re not doing our job as parents. We’re not protecting their belief in love, or modeling what it means to respect another person—even when things are hard.

Coming in Part 2:

When It’s Time to Leave—and How to Do It Well
We’ll explore:

  • When separation becomes the healthier choice
  • The impact on children from both parents’ perspectives
  • How to co-parent with respect, and model healing instead of harm

You can find Part 2 here.

Roots and Wings: The Greatest Gift We Can Give Our Children

On By Ian ToalLeave a comment

There’s a saying I once wrote in my journal—words that poured out of me one night after a hard parenting day: “The greatest gift I can give my son is both roots and wings.”

It wasn’t until much later I learned that Johann Wolfgang von Goethe had written something nearly identical centuries before:

“There are only two things children should get from their parents: roots and wings.”

And later, Hodding Carter echoed it:

“There are but two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings.”

I didn’t know that when I wrote it. I had just lived it. And maybe that’s the point. Maybe we all arrive at this truth when we love deeply enough.

Roots

Roots are the foundation. They’re the morning routines, the tucked-in blankets, the bedtime stories we’ve told a hundred times—the castle we storm together, even if I run the wrong way to battle the orcs. They’re the quiet presence we offer when our kids are overwhelmed, or the moments when we choose to be with them fully, no distractions and no excuses. Those moments give them a sense of safety and allow space for big feelings they can’t yet name.

Roots are made of consistency and quiet courage. They are the traditions we build, the values we live, and the love we offer even when our kids push us away. They tell our sons:

“You belong somewhere.”
“You are grounded in something strong.”

For me, roots mean teaching my son how to calm down, how to brush his teeth, how to be kind even when he’s frustrated. It means showing up when it’s hard. It means listening, even when I’d rather walk away.
It means creating a safe place to return to, even after he’s yelled, melted down, or lost control.

Wings

Wings are the courage to let go. They’re the freedom we allow our sons to discover who they are, without shaping them into who we hoped they’d become.

Wings are in every “You’ve got this.”
Every “Go try.”
Every moment when we step back and let them rise or fall on their own.

Giving my son wings means not rescuing him from every hard moment. It means trusting that he’ll grow through the discomfort. That he doesn’t need me to be perfect, he needs me to believe in him.

Wings whisper:

“I trust you.”
“You are allowed to become.”

“You can Trust Yourself.”

The Balance

This is the hard part.
Too many roots, and we raise a child afraid to move.
Too many wings, and they might never know how to land.

But when we give both, real roots and strong wings, we raise boys who are grounded and free. Boys who become men with a deep sense of self—rooted in love, truth, and purpose—and a brave heart ready to face the world with kindness, curiosity, and strength.

For my son

If I can give you anything, my son, it will be this:
A sense that you are loved and safe, even when the world is not.
And the freedom to discover your voice, your values, and your wild, wonderful path.

These are your roots. These are your wings.
And I will be here, on the ground, cheering as you rise.

Welcome to Mindful Dad Life

On By Ian ToalLeave a comment

Why I Started This Blog — and What It Means to Me

I didn’t plan to start a blog.
Not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because I was too busy trying to be the dad I wish I’d had.

Being a parent changes you. Sometimes gently, sometimes like a storm.
And in the middle of it — work, bills, questions you can’t answer — I realized I wanted to do more than just get through fatherhood. I wanted to be present for it.

That’s where Mindful Dad Life comes in.

This Blog Is a Place for Me to Be Real

I’m not here to pretend I’ve got it all figured out.
There are days I get it wrong.
Days I react too quickly.
Days I forget that being “strong” isn’t the same as being connected.

And nights when I say I’m sorry, I messed up.

But I’m learning. And that’s what this blog is about.

What You’ll Find Here

This is a place for:

  • Stories about raising a son who listens to his own heart and learns to act with compassion, courage, and kindness
  • Reflections on what I’m learning as a dad and man
  • Ideas for making memories — especially when time is short
  • Reminders that being present matters more than being perfect

Whether it’s a weekend adventure, an emotional moment we worked through, or a thought I needed to write down — you’ll find it here.

Why I’m Sharing This Publicly

Because being a dad can feel isolating, even when you’re surrounded by all the noise.

If any part of my experience helps another father feel seen, heard, and maybe even just a little appreciated, or gives someone a little guidance to someone walking a similar path, then this is worth it.

This isn’t about going viral.
It’s about being real, being honest, and being here.

Let’s Learn This Together

You don’t have to be perfect to be a great dad.
You just have to show up — consistently, imperfectly, wholeheartedly.

So here I am. Showing up.

Welcome to Mindful Dad Life.
I’m glad you’re here.