My pediatrician gave me a knowing look as my whiny 18-month-old daughter wriggled out of my arms and plopped down onto the tile floor.
“I think 18 months is the hardest age,” the doctor said. “They’re mobile and opinionated, but they still don’t have the language skills to express their needs, so they throw a lot of tantrums.”
I nodded ― that made sense to me as a speech-language pathologist. Communication is our greatest tool when it comes to relationships, which is one of the reasons why I decided to become a speech therapist in the first place.
Meanwhile, my daughter began touching every surface in the office and then proceeded to stick her hands into her mouth.
“Here’s my best advice,” the pediatrician offered. “Firstly, you have to choose your battles. Otherwise, everything will be a battle. You have to let some things go, or else you’ll be managing meltdowns 24/7.”
“That makes sense,” I said as I tried to stop my daughter from opening all the cabinets.
“Secondly, when you say ‘no,’ mean it. In order for her to learn the meaning of the word, you need to be consistent. Don’t let ‘no’ be the start of a negotiation.”
“I think I’ve already failed at that one,” I grimaced, thinking of all the times I’d said no and then compromised in an attempt to bypass ensuing chaos.
“That’s OK,” the pediatrician encouraged. “It’s a learning process for everyone.”
Well-meaning individuals are quick to dole out advice to new parents ― much of it unhelpful ― but I’ve returned to these two pearls of wisdom from my pediatrician time and time again. In fact, I’ve found that they can serve as guideposts for other tricky relationship dynamics as well.
For example, with the upcoming holidays and visiting family, I know that I’ll have to “choose my battles” and let some comments slide.
I’ll have to ignore the offhand remark about my toddler’s bad manners so that I can reserve conflict for more meaningful points of contention. One of those points came up recently when we were gathered around the dinner table and my daughter began to say the prayer “God our Father,” except that she said “God our Mother” instead ― which is something that I taught her.
When a family member corrected her, I stepped in to assert my belief that God has no gender. I want my daughter to learn freedom and flexibility when it comes to religion and to be able to relate to God in her own unique way.
The conversation that followed regarding our differing biblical interpretations and religious beliefs was uncomfortable, but I persisted because I want my daughter to see herself as a female reflected in the divine. As a woman wounded by a patriarchal faith tradition, I want to protect my daughter from some of those harmful ideas. I want her to relate to God in a way that makes her feel free, safe and loved rather than dismissed, devalued and diminished.
Similarly, when family members insist that my daughter eat everything on her plate, I am quick to reassure her that she is the boss of her body. While it’s important to try new foods, I want my daughter to know that she is ultimately in control and does not have to do anything that doesn’t feel right. The same rules apply for family members that demand physical affection from her. Teaching my daughter to listen and trust her own body matters more than hurting another family member’s feelings.
I choose to fight these battles because filtering the messages that my kids absorb through social interactions and faith or cultural traditions is important to me. It’s one of my top concerns as a parent, and I continually revisit my values when it comes to deciding which conflicts to pursue.
The second piece of advice ― saying no and sticking to it ― can be tougher to implement, especially with toddlers. But as my pediatrician said (and I can attest), consistency is crucial when it comes to language development and learning.
For example, my 3-year-old regularly asks for more books during our bedtime routine. I’ve had to enforce a 3-book limit because otherwise we’d be up reading books all night.
At first, it was tough to enforce this “no more books” rule. Reading books is great, after all. What’s one more book? More is always better, right?
Over time, however, it became confusing for my daughter, who began to view my “no” as an invitation to negotiate. This bled over into other scenarios, like begging for more TV or candy after I’d repeatedly said no.
Eventually, as I became more deliberate in my use of “no,” my daughter grew to understand and respect that boundary. It has not only made bedtime smoother, but also improved our relationship as a whole.
The same is true for adults. When I declared that we wouldn’t be traveling for the holidays this year, my family accepted this answer without pressuring me to change my mind. After years of practicing clear communication, they now know how to recognize my limits, which has lessened the relational stress for all involved.
If parenting has taught me anything, it’s that we are all constantly learning and evolving. Every interaction is a chance to begin anew ― to make a different decision, to use a better word, to be more clear about our intentions and values.
Keeping the peace during holiday times might mean swallowing a snarky dig about my parenting choices or reluctantly accepting a(nother) toy that we don’t need. Ultimately, though, discerning when to stand my ground has benefited (and will continue to benefit) my relationships with both the adults and kids in my life.
Lauren Salles Gumpert is a freelance writer, Speech-Language Therapist and aspiring author. She lives in Virginia Beach with her husband and three young kids. You can connect with her via Substack ( to read more of her writing.
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