Parenting, by nature, often comes with a set of unspoken rules. “I expect you to behave like this because it’s what’s expected of you.” We tend to think of our kids in terms of what they should do, based on age or what society deems acceptable. We talk about good behavior as if they’re mini-adults, slowly learning how to be human, slowly becoming more complete.
But what if we flipped that entirely? What if, instead of shaping our kids into society’s molds, we started with a completely different premise—that children are already fully capable, brimming with potential, and that our job is simply to unlock that?
At the time of this writing, we have four kids, ages 5 to 15, each remarkable in their own way. And almost everywhere we go, we’re met with some variation of the same question: “How did you manage to raise such amazing kids?” Strangers, friends, even family members—everyone seems curious about what we did differently. This essay is, in many ways, the beginning of an answer to that question.
Because our oldest, 15 at the time of this writing, is the one we’ve raised the longest, many of the stories in this piece come from his upbringing. He’s the one who first taught us to question the limits we unknowingly placed on our children’s potential.
I remember the first time I realized just how capable my kids really were. My son was only two at the time. We were visiting my mom and stepdad, and they have this small backyard with a two-tiered deck. The deck, built by my stepdad, stands a good eight feet off the ground, and my son, with all the determination of a two-year-old, wanted to throw his ball up onto it.
He stood directly under the deck, trying to throw the ball straight up into the air. Now, any adult could tell you that from a physics perspective, this was a fool’s errand—it’s hard enough for a toddler to throw a ball, let alone aim directly upwards. So, I started explaining to him how to use a parabolic arc, about how stepping back a few feet would give him the right angle to make the throw easier. My stepdad just laughed and said, “Why are you explaining advanced physics to a toddler? He can’t understand that.” But I responded with, “How do you know?”
A few weeks later, we were back at their house, and my son grabbed the ball again. This time, without missing a beat, he stepped back from the deck and said, “Parabolic arc, Daddy!” He threw the ball perfectly onto the deck on his first try. I was stunned—first, that he could even pronounce the word “parabolic,” and second, that he remembered what it meant and immediately applied it. In that moment, something clicked for me. I realized that I didn’t have a clue what my children were truly capable of. The world may have ideas about what children can do, but in that instant, I knew that those limits didn’t apply here. This shattered the last remnants of any belief I had that children’s potential could be boxed in by what society tells us. From that moment, I made it my goal to give them as much as I could—because who was I to decide what they couldn’t understand?
We teach them everything—nothing is too hard, too complex, or “above their heads.” We never assume a limit because we don’t know their limits, and neither do they. Instead of seeing our children as blank slates to be written on, we began to see them as seeds, each already holding within them everything they needed to grow into giants. Our role wasn’t to script their lives, but to give them fertile soil, sunlight, and space to stretch toward the sky.
Of course, realizing their potential doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing. It’s a journey filled with bumps, missteps, and moments where you question everything—especially when you’re the only one choosing a different path.
Discipline Isn’t Control—It’s the Key to Unlocking Capability
Our approach to discipline isn’t about controlling behavior or managing chaos—it’s about giving them the tools to recognize their choices and encouraging them to become the best version of themselves. And this isn’t something we switch on and off based on the environment; it’s an everyday practice. Whether we’re at home, at Walmart, or in a restaurant, the discipline remains consistent. And when it’s tested, like the time our toddler’s one-minute timeout turned into a 45-minute endurance test for my wife’s patience, we remind ourselves that the struggle is worth it. Each moment is a seed being planted—one that will eventually grow roots and bear fruit in their character.
Society’s molds, after all, are based on averages and assumptions, not on the boundless potential unique to each child. By trying to fit them into neat categories, we risk capping their growth before it ever begins. When family members marvel at our oldest child’s confidence and maturity, or strangers notice our youngest speaking with a depth beyond her years, they’re often left with the same question: “How did you raise them to be like this?”
When Discipline Tests Your Patience: The Parenting Roller Coaster
Consistency is at the core of how my wife and I approach discipline. Whoever starts a discipline moment, finishes it. One time, when our oldest was just a toddler, my wife had set him down for a one-minute timeout after he tried pulling her earrings off. Simple enough, right? Except he wouldn’t sit still. He got up. Again. And again. And again. What should’ve been a one-minute timeout turned into a 45-minute saga of persistence. My wife’s emotions went from finding it funny, to frustration, to despondency. She started questioning whether our approach was even valid, nearly giving in to the typical “just wait until your dad gets home” mentality. Meanwhile, I was in the other room, trying not to burst into laughter. I had to stay hidden because if my son saw me laughing, he’d think it was all a joke. Every few minutes, my wife would come back to me for support, and I’d reassure her: “This is worth it. It’s worth sticking it out.” And you know what? He eventually sat through that one-minute timeout. And from that moment on, the lesson stuck.
Ditching the Norms: Why Our Unconventional Parenting Paid Off
About seven years ago, my wife and I made a radical decision. We left behind the traditional lifestyle of staying in one place, with a single career path and the same neighborhood, and moved into an RV to travel full-time with our kids. At the time, people thought we were nuts. “What about their schooling? Their social life? How will they get what they need?”
What they didn’t understand is that by leaving behind societal norms, we gave our kids something far more valuable than traditional schooling or neighborhood playdates. We gave them the world.
My son, for example, discovered a passion for fire spinning at age nine, and that’s just one of many ways he has flourished. He’s mastered fire poi, spending years perfecting it until he could perform a four-minute routine without dropping it or hitting himself, our baseline requirement before allowing him to perform with fire. He’s now working toward mastering fire staff, fire sword, and other advanced props like the flaming rope dart. He’s performed professionally, even earning enough to buy high-quality fire props, and is now taking dance lessons to refine his stage presence. And that’s just one layer. He’s also written two novels, trained AI bots to match his writing style, animated his stories, and become an incredible chef with signature dishes like banana bread and verde enchiladas—all from scratch. And as he keeps finding new interests, we keep finding ways to support and enable him.
All of our kids, in their own way, have grown into themselves by exploring their passions. We’ve seen my oldest daughter dive into art, creating everything from intricate watercolor paintings to paper mache horse heads for her bike. She’s constantly experimenting, building 3D models, or crafting mouse houses from recycled materials. My middle daughter has a gift with people—she effortlessly connects with everyone around her, from summer neighbors who adore her flower-tending skills to friends and strangers alike. My youngest, at just five, has already blown us away with her Minecraft creations and her ability to absorb knowledge far beyond her years. Watching her pick up ideas from her siblings—especially her oldest brother, who teaches her things we wouldn’t even think to introduce—has been fascinating. She’s swimming better than boys two or three years older and speaks with an eloquence that constantly catches us off guard.
Autonomy Begins at Home: Teaching Responsibility Without Limits
In our house, fostering autonomy is a daily practice. We believe in giving our children responsibilities not because they’re obligated to perform them, but because it helps them develop the skills they need to run their own homes one day. Their chores aren’t tasks imposed on them like they’re household slaves; they’re skills, learned in a safe environment where mistakes have small consequences. And we participate alongside them. We don’t just assign chores; we work together, showing them that a clean and well-cared-for home is a shared responsibility.
The daily routine is straightforward: morning, afternoon, and evening chores. These aren’t just about keeping the house in order—they’re about learning life skills. When they ask for help, we’re there to guide them. They’re also learning to communicate and negotiate with each other when they share chores, figuring out how to divide the tasks in a way that they both feel good about. It’s a small but significant way of building teamwork and problem-solving skills.
And once the chores are done, their day is theirs to explore. We give them unlimited time to engage in activities that foster creativity and community. If they want to spend time in apps like Procreate, Minecraft, or Roblox—where they’re creating something or building relationships—it’s unlimited. If they want to play outside, build things, cook, or hang out with friends, it’s also unlimited. The only limits we set are on consumptive activities like YouTube or solitary games, which are capped at two hours. By balancing autonomy with structure, they learn to manage their time and responsibilities while still having the freedom to explore their passions.
Let Them Fail: Why Natural Consequences Are the Best Teacher
We’ve also learned to trust in the power of natural consequences. We don’t shield our kids from every potential danger. Instead, we teach them how to navigate the world safely. My daughter learned what “hot” and “burn” meant when she touched a cookie sheet right after it came out of the oven. I told her it was hot, but she didn’t understand until she felt the burn. Now, she knows.
In another instance, my son, who manages his own school schedule, decided to put off his assignments for the week. He ended up missing out on a fun Saturday because he had to catch up on his work. It only took that one experience for him to realize the value of managing his time.
Natural consequences teach lessons that stick. And because we allow them to experience those consequences, they learn to make better choices, not because we impose limits on them, but because they want to. It’s their discovery process.
What Happens When You Expect Greatness? You Get It.
Here’s the thing about parenting with expectations based on potential rather than societal norms: children rise to the occasion. When you believe in their capacity for greatness, they believe in it too. When you give them the freedom to explore, to fail, and to try again, they’ll constantly surprise you.
I’ve seen it over and over. My kids, and even the children who come into our lives for short periods, thrive when we give them room to grow. When we trust that they’re capable of more than we could imagine, they show us just how limitless their potential really is.
The hardest part, of course, is trusting in that potential, especially when society is constantly questioning your choices. We’ve faced our share of societal pressure, whether it’s curious questions from neighbors or even more intense situations, like when child protective services was called on us for allowing our kids to play in the backyard without obvious supervision. People often misunderstand our unconventional lifestyle and worry about our kids. But when those people show up and meet our kids, they see the results—children who are incredible communicators, capable, happy, and thriving. We may live outside the box, but the results speak louder than societal norms ever could.
In the end, the real secret to raising giants is simple: expect greatness, and they’ll give you greatness. Don’t put limits on what they can achieve. Give them the tools, the encouragement, and the belief that they are capable of so much more than we think. And they will grow into the kind of people who constantly exceed your expectations—and their own.
Written by
