The Power of “Yes”

Last weekend my husband took our kids to the park for some sunshine and scooter riding while I stayed back and cleaned the house. (I know it seems like I got the short end of the stick, but I jumped at the chance to have two hours of uninterrupted cleaning and avoid being outdoors. My OCD Enneagram Ones are nodding their heads in understanding right now. You are my people.) A while later, as I was happily wiping magic marker off the banisters, my husband FaceTimed my phone. “Look what we’re doing,” he said cautiously. He turned the camera around to reveal our two children wading ankle-deep in a creek bed. (I didn’t even know we had creek beds here in the desert.) “I thought you were going for a scooter ride,” I responded, trying not to sound irritated. All I could think about was the wet laundry, the bacteria floating in the water, and the mud that would inevitably end up on the floor of my van after their little detour. But then I heard my kids laughing as they splashed their feet. I watched as they held up little treasures they’d found. They seemed so happy. “That’s why you’re the fun one,” I said to my husband, slightly jealous. He flipped the camera back around and confessed he’d said “No,” several times before it dawned on him there was no legitimate reason to. Why couldn’t they play in the creek? Clothes will dry. They were done with their scooter ride. The car wasn’t far. It was worth it. I couldn’t argue with him.

When they arrived back home and the kids ran upstairs to change their clothes, I applauded my husband for saying “Yes.” I realized how often I say “No.” Like it’s just my default response. I don’t know why I do that. Maybe I think that’s what good parents are supposed to do. We’re not supposed to let our kids be spontaneous, impulsive, or (God forbid), irresponsible. But how much do they miss out on because I don’t feel like dealing with the mess, the inconvenience, or the consequences? Over a week later my kids were still talking about their escapade in the creek. They made a treasured memory. I vowed to start saying “Yes,” more.

As the week begins, I notice how often one of my kids asks my permission to do something, anything. They ask for permission to go outside and play, to watch a tv show, to get a snack from the kitchen, to use my stapler, to get out the paints, you name it. For my daughter, my permission to choose her own shoes is not even implied. She always asks me first. Maybe my inclination to say “No,” has just as much to do with control as it does anything else. I say I want my kids to be more independent, but do I really? Why do they feel they need my approval before they make the most minor of choices? Goodness, I have a lot of work to do. So I’m beginning to practice “Yes,” at every opportunity, (which I’ve learned can also just be not saying “No”).

I stand by when my son comes downstairs wearing no other variation but 4 different shades of green, insisting it “matches.” I stay quiet when my daughter chooses the cat-ear headband for the thousandth time even though she has dozens of other accessories to pick from. I say “Yes,” when they ask to drive through Dutch Bros. on the way back from school, even though we routinely go straight home to start homework. (The result of this particular “Yes,” was a free beverage because my five-year-old flirted with the barista through his open car window, showing her his school artwork and calling her, “the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.” Lord have mercy.) I say “Yes,” when my son asks to eat dinner outside tonight because “It’s so sunny and perfect outside Mom!” (It was also incredibly windy, which he failed to mention. We spent more time chasing down paper napkins than eating our food, which had grown cold in three minutes on account of the aforementioned WIND.) I say “Yes,” when they ask me to read “just one more chapter.” Someday they’ll stay up and read books on their own. Someday will be here before I know it. Why am I always in such a hurry to turn their lights out by 7:30? Dad gives them pizza for breakfast and I don’t utter a word, because it’s okay to break up the monotony of life now and then. I say “Yes,” when my son asks to chop the vegetables for dinner. His knife cuts leave a lot to be desired. I chewed through both minuscule and giant pieces of radish in my salad, but he was so darn proud of himself for wielding a knife all on his own. I’m glad I didn’t turn him down.

I sit on the couch as I watch my children brainstorm an idea for making a bird feeder. I stay quiet as they gather peanut butter and cranberries from the pantry. I see them glance worriedly in my direction as they pull out paper plates, butter knives, and scissors. They are waiting for me to intervene with a resounding, “NO.” I don’t though, and because I don’t, I witness them use teamwork and ingenuity to create something wonderful. They giggle and chat through the entire project. They put everything away and wipe the counters when they’re done, without being asked. A big part of my “No,” would’ve been because of the mess it made, but it turns out I have nothing to worry about. The mess is gone and in its place is an hour of well-spent creativity and bonding. I am surprised at how freeing it is for me to let my kids manage themselves. I see now it’s freeing for them too. I make a point of telling my nine-year-old that I trust her decisions. “You are a really responsible kid. I have no doubt you’ll make choices you think are best,” I tell her. My words leave an ear-to-ear grin on her face. She looks visibly lighter and far more confident than I’ve ever seen her. Oh, the power of “Yes.” (I’m gonna need a few more years before I can utter those words to my son. His track record isn’t nearly so shiny.)

It’s tough to discern as a parent when “Yes,” or “No,” is more beneficial. Saying “Yes” can lead to more laughter, more memories, and more fun! It can also lead to more consequences. The more I choose to stand back and let my children try things their way, the more likely it is they will fail. They’ll learn more things the hard way if I say “Yes.” But is that always such a bad thing? Parents have an innate desire to protect their kids. We don’t want to see them fail. But haven’t we grown the most when we’ve suffered the consequences of our actions? My son learns humility when he insists on doing it himself and then realizes he needed my help after all. By saying “Yes,” to him more, he’s said, “I’m sorry Mom, you were right,” more in the last seven days than he has in the last five years. Oh, the power of “Yes.” Saying “No” can certainly prevent messes, derailment, and unforeseen problems. But is that such a good thing? If my kids hear “No,” too often, they might stop asking altogether. They’ll stay in their safe box of rules and know I’ll control it all for them. They won’t need to think for themselves or try it their way. They won’t learn to trust themselves any more than I trust them. Their world may stay safer, cleaner, and more predictable, but they won’t grow much there.

Here’s the thing about being more agreeable. It often means you veer off schedule. Saying “Yes,” means you have to be flexible, because that “Yes,” will likely lead to things you didn’t plan for and will ultimately take longer than saying “No.” This is difficult for scheduled, routined, rule follower, color-inside-the-lines personalities like mine. My husband often jokes that I love being spontaneous as long as it’s planned. He’s absolutely right. I’ve often found spontaneity overrated. I’ll enjoy myself far more if I feel prepared mentally, physically, and emotionally. (Why is that so hard to understand?) Knowing this hasn’t kept him from surprising me though. I think he takes a little too much joy in pulling me outside my comfortable box of rules and checklists. But I can honestly say I’ve never been disappointed with a single surprise he’s thrust upon me; trips to Disneyland, weekend getaways, romantic dates, and best of all, a marriage proposal Some of my favorite memories have been when my carefully laid plans were thrown to the wayside. I don’t want to deprive my children of memories like that. So when my husband suggested we surprise our kids with a 24 hour trip to the beach, I shoved all thoughts of, “It’s a 10-hour drive round trip; we’ll be so exhausted. I hate sand; it gets everywhere. That’s a lot to pack for just one day. The weather might not cooperate,” to the back of my mind and said, “Yes.” You can imagine how stunned and thrilled they were when we announced we were heading to the beach for a day, for no other reason than it sounded fun. It has gone down in history as a favorite family memory. Oh, the power of “Yes.” Was I exhausted? Yes. Was I vacuuming sand out of my car for WEEKS afterward? Yes. Do I wish we’d sprung for a hotel? Yes. But did I regret saying “Yes”? Not once.