Bringing common sense with a grain of salt back to parenting!
Spoiler: If you only cheer when the trophy shows up, you miss all the building blocks that made it possible.
Mistake: Only celebrating big achievements.
Reality check: Small wins fuel motivation for bigger ones.
It’s tempting to save our best “I’m proud of you!” speeches for the huge moments: the spelling bee win, the A+ science fair project, the perfect goal. But the truth is, the small daily wins — like finishing homework without a battle, making the bed, or apologizing after a fight — are where our child’s grit, confidence, and habits are forged. Ignore those, and we miss the best chance to raise a resilient human.
THE ISSUE
Parents often treat encouragement like a scarce resource. We hoard it for the moments that “matter.” The big report card. The competition medal. The lead in the school play.
The problem? Childhood isn’t lived in medals or report cards. It’s lived in the messy middle:
Finishing a math worksheet without tears.
Choosing not to clap back at a friend’s snarky text.
Making their own lunch and actually remembering to include fruit.
But when these wins get brushed aside, kids learn a dangerous lesson: that only big, shiny achievements count. And that’s a fast track to burnout.
WHY PARENTS DO THIS
We don’t mean harm. We’re operating on cultural myths and parental autopilot.
The “No Participation Trophy” Myth. We’ve been told for decades: don’t over-praise. Don’t hand out gold stars for existing. Praise too much and kids will grow entitled, soft, or allergic to effort. So we hold back.
Coach Mode. Parents slip into coach/trainer mentality. Save the “good jobs” for the championship game. Practice doesn’t count. The problem? For kids, practice is the game.
Fear of Dilution. “If I praise the little stuff, won’t it lose meaning when they do something big?” Actually, it’s the opposite. When you acknowledge daily progress, the big wins feel even bigger.
Adult Lens. We forget that what feels “small” to us is huge to them. Sure, putting a cereal bowl in the dishwasher feels basic to you. To them, it’s independence. (And to you, let’s be honest, it still feels like a small miracle.)
Exhaustion. Sometimes we’re just too tired to notice. Between work, bills, and laundry, “Hey, you actually hung up your towel” doesn’t make the cut.
HOW THIS HARMS CHILDREN (AND US)
Ignoring the little wins doesn’t just leave them unacknowledged — it reshapes how kids view effort, motivation, and even themselves.
Motivation Shrinks. If the only time they hear “I’m proud of you” is at the finish line, why bother running the race? Daily effort starts to feel invisible.
Conditional Self-Worth. When only “big” achievements count, they start to believe their value depends on outperforming everyone else. That’s a recipe for perfectionism and anxiety.
Progress Feels Invisible. Big wins are rare. If that’s the only time they get noticed, weeks (or months) of effort can feel meaningless.
Fragile Resilience. If they don’t learn to value the steps along the way, failure feels catastrophic. A stumble means no praise, no worth.
Distance in the Relationship. If they know you’ll cheer for the trophy but not the Tuesday-night effort, they might stop sharing the Tuesday nights with you at all.
Progress is Devalued. They internalize the idea that success is always public, dramatic, and Instagram-worthy. Quiet progress — which is most of life — feels worthless.
THEN VS. NOW
Back Then (80s/90s):
Kids were expected to “just do it.” No one praised you for making your bed. If anything, you got yelled at when you didn’t.
Praise was reserved for honor rolls, trophies, or graduation.
The logic: kids toughen up without constant recognition.
Now (2020s):
Kids swim in comparison: Instagram-perfect achievements, TikTok highlight reels, Snapchat “streaks.”
Their peers’ wins are public daily. If parents stay silent except for the giant moments, kids feel unseen in between.
Irony: We worry about “too many participation trophies” while kids are already living in a culture that constantly ranks, rates, and judges them.
In other words: kids don’t need less recognition. They need real, balanced recognition — especially for the daily grind.
AVOIDING THE TRAP
There are many ways to notice the “small” stuff without turning every eaten cereal bowl into a confetti parade.
Notice Effort, Not Just Outcomes. Instead of, “Great job winning the game,” try, “I saw how hard you practiced your free throws. That effort showed up tonight.” It teaches them the process matters — not just the scoreboard.
Be Specific. “Good job!” is fluff. “I love how you stayed calm when your Lego tower fell and rebuilt it — that’s resilience” sticks. Specific praise helps them connect behavior with strength.
Keep It Casual. Sometimes all they need is a quick, genuine nod: “Hey, I noticed you started homework without me reminding you. Nice.” That casual tone says, “I see you,” without a grand ceremony.
Link Small Wins to Bigger Goals. Connect the dots: "Sure, remembering to pack your gym clothes won’t change the world — but it’s the same skill that gets you to college with matching socks.” Tweens like knowing how things fit into the “big picture.”
Normalize “Micro-Moments.” Sometimes it’s as tiny as, “Thanks for taking a deep breath instead of yelling.” Recognizing those moments reinforces emotional regulation as much as academics or sports.
Avoid the Parade Trap. You don’t need balloons every time they put socks in the hamper. Overdoing it makes praise feel fake. Balance is the secret sauce.
Share Your Own Small Wins. Model it: “I finally folded the laundry today. Go me.” It shows them adults celebrate incremental victories too.
Keep Family Anchors for Praise. Set rituals — maybe a weekly “three wins” dinner where everyone shares one small thing they did that week. It keeps recognition normal, not exceptional.
MISTAKES TO AVOID
Comparing siblings: “Your brother’s been making his bed for years.” Cue resentment.
Tying praise to perfection: “You got 9/10? What happened to the other one?”
Turning every small win into an Instagram post. Recognition doesn’t always need an audience.
Treating praise like currency you can’t afford.
WHY SMALL WINS MATTER LONG-TERM
Celebrating little victories doesn’t raise entitled kids. It raises kids who understand momentum, resilience, and self-belief.
Resilience: They see that showing up every day matters.
Self-confidence: They learn they don’t need to be the best to feel proud.
Momentum: Small wins snowball into bigger ones.
Adult life isn’t about constant trophies — it’s about showing up for work, finishing projects, paying bills, and finding matching socks. Isn’t that all just “small wins” strung together?
IF YOU’VE BEEN IGNORING THE SMALL STUFF
Good news: it’s never too late. Kids notice when patterns change. You can always start today with a quick, lighthearted acknowledgment: “Not to be dramatic, but I’m genuinely impressed you hung up your hoodie instead of leaving it on the floor. I see you.”
It doesn’t take much. One casual recognition can flip the switch on motivation.
THE BIG TAKEAWAY
Yes, cheer for the championship, the A+, the trophy. But don’t forget the little stuff that makes those big wins possible. The Tuesday-night math quiz, the kindness to a friend, the choice to try again after failing — those are the bricks that build resilience. Small wins aren’t small. They’re the foundation of everything bigger to come.
So next time your tween rinses a plate, studies without nagging, or handles disappointment with grace, let them know: I see you. I’m proud of you. Because that little recognition today is the spark that fuels tomorrow’s bigger victories.
© Kristijan Musek Lešnik, 2025
