Every aisle, website, and Instagram ad insists we must have the newest swing, bassinet, or stroller designed by NASA engineers. The irony? Our baby usually prefers our arms.

Every parent eventually unleashes the classic line: “Because I said so.” It’s quick, efficient, and shuts down debate. The problem? When it becomes your default, kids stop learning why rules exist — and eventually, they stop listening altogether.

The tween years are a paradox. One minute they’re reciting climate change statistics like mini-activists, the next they’re crying because their favorite hoodie is in the wash. Parents get whiplash trying to figure out: Do I give them independence? Or do I remind them to brush their teeth for the hundredth time?

Every generation swears their youth was tougher, purer, and character-building — usually right before a teen rolls their eyes into another dimension. The “Back in My Day” Time Machine unpacks why our nostalgia sounds less like connection and more like competition. Because while you’re reminiscing about dial-up internet, your teen’s just trying to survive high-speed adolescence — and they need empathy more than history lessons.

At some point between ages 11 and 13, many parents stumble into the sticky, blush-filled world of tween crushes. Your kid drops the word “like” in a suspicious tone, or you notice them hovering a little longer around someone at school, and suddenly your inner gossip reporter springs to life. Unfortunately, turning every innocent crush into a family press conference doesn’t strengthen your bond — it embarrasses your tween into retreating further.

It starts with one after-school activity — soccer, maybe. Then comes piano, karate, tutoring, coding, choir. Suddenly your seven-year-old has a calendar more crowded than your own, and you’re sprinting from one parking lot to the next like you’re competing in the Triathlon of Parenting. Let's explore why we do it, how it backfires, and how to reclaim sanity before you need an oil change every month.

Every aisle, website, and Instagram ad insists we must have the newest swing, bassinet, or stroller designed by NASA engineers. The irony? Our baby usually prefers our arms.