This week, we ran into a familiar issue with our 10-year-old.
She’s brilliant, creative, and emotionally intelligent—but man-oh-man, she is SO forgetful and inattentive to instructions, it drives us absolutely bananas sometimes. Sound familiar?
This is something I hear all the time from parents in both parent coaching and academic coaching. In our house, my husband is especially tired of reminding her sixty times to do her one daily chore: emptying the dishwasher.
So, I followed our familiar routine. I waited for a moment when we were already connected—her mood was up, our relationship felt spacious. Then, I sat down with her and gently reminded her how hard her dad works to take care of our home. I told her I thought we could both recommit to doing a better job of helping him out. She agreed. (Which I expected—had I not, I would’ve started the conversation with more curiosity than direction.)
Then I asked:
“What do you think gets in the way of you emptying the dishwasher without being asked—or at least after being asked once?”
She said she prefers to check it before leaving the house in the morning. Fair enough. But when I pointed out that today, the dishwasher was still full of clean dishes, she admitted she hadn’t even walked by the kitchen.
I validated her: “It makes sense that having no consistent time to do it is tricky. And I know—even then, it’s still hard sometimes.” I suggested we try putting a little sign by the door to remind her to check the dishwasher before she heads out.
She agreed. And this morning? She did just that.
Sounds like a win, right?
Yes—and also, we’ve been down this road before. Many times. These kinds of strategies do work…for a while. Then they fade, grow stale, and need refreshing. That’s what I want you to know:
This is the process.
It takes commitment. Communication. Revisiting. Tweaking. Repairing. There’s no one-and-done conversation that permanently installs a habit or routine. I wish it worked that way, but for most of us, it doesn’t.
In a week or so, she’ll forget. She’ll rush out the door, guided by whatever’s lighting up her brain in that moment, and the sign by the door will become invisible—just part of the wallpaper.
We’ll get frustrated. And when we do, we’ll try to remember:
Her brain is still under construction.
That prefrontal cortex—the part responsible for executive functioning, task initiation, planning, and self-regulation—is still very much in its early development. She needs plenty of repetition and guided practice to build the neural wiring for consistent habits and responsibility.
Our job is to respect her developmental stage and hold a standard just within reach.
We’re here to scaffold her—offering support when needed so she can succeed without over-rescuing or demanding perfection.
Patience, kindness, and curiosity go a long way.
When we respond with grace, we’re modeling the inner voice we want her to develop—the one she’ll turn to when she is struggling, falling short, or figuring something out.
Repeated conversations aren’t wasted breath.
They help her reflect. They build collaborative problem-solving skills.
They teach her how to stay grounded in conflict and nurture connection through challenge.
We’re not just trying to get help with the dishes.
We’re helping wire a human brain for resilience, confidence, and connection, a job well worth the effort.