
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.
