Early Mornings, Clear Rules, and Lots of Love: How My Parents Got Parenting Right

Man, I can still hear my dad’s 6 a.m. whistle in my head, slicing straight through the early morning dreams. That sound is honestly seared into my brain, and it always signaled the start of our day. Even when we begged for “just ten more minutes,” our pleas were futile; by seven o'clock, we were already lacing up our shoes for a jog or a badminton match, still half-awake and trying to process the morning.

While we tried to process that, Mom was already making breakfast on the griddle and packing our lunches for the day. These routines never felt like punishment. In fact, they never even described it as a “screen detox,” despite the popularity of that concept in today’s parenting blogs. Instead, my parents simply filled our days with genuinely engaging activities, naturally turning our phones off.

It wasn’t until much later that I recognized their unique discipline style, which especially stands out in my memory, and now I describe it as a three-point gut check. First, connection was always at the core; no matter how badly you messed up, you knew you were still fundamentally loved, that baseline affection was never up for debate. Secondly, the rules were obvious, quite literally taped to our fridge, so there was never a mysterious code to crack. Finally, their consequences always made logical sense. For instance, if you skip your chores, you lose the free time you would have otherwise earned.

Michael Popkin, a psychologist who specializes in family relationships, describes this dynamic as “freedom within limits.” According to Popkin, parents set big, non-negotiable rules like bedtime, curfew, and basic human decency, but then allow kids to make their own choices within that framework. For example, our lights-out was strictly set at 9:30 p.m., yet we could decide how to spend those last fifteen minutes. Screens were permitted only after we had ticked off essential boxes like homework, exercise, and family dinner. Because the alternatives my parents offered, sunrise runs, singing lessons, were genuinely enjoyable, the limits felt less like strict boundaries and more like garden paths gently guiding us toward positive experiences.

This sense of thoughtful teamwork also extended to my parents’ flexibility. Mom consistently modeled wise adaptability, demonstrating that rules could occasionally bend without breaking. For example, she might extend a curfew for a special birthday, but always made sure to talk through it with us the next day. Discipline for them wasn’t about catching us out; it was an ongoing, supportive coaching process that seamlessly mixed empathy with accountability. Of course, my parents were never perfect. Sometimes they overreacted, and other times the rules required a complete redo. Importantly, they always own these mistakes. They apologized openly, and we rewrote the rules together. Through this, they demonstrated powerfully that boundaries can be flexible.

Today, miles away at BYU–Idaho, I see clearly how these lessons are baked into who I have become. I naturally wake up early, plan my day, and filter my choices through their principles of connection, clarity, physical fitness, and logic. For my parents, when kids clearly understand expectations and feel deeply loved, they don’t merely behave, they truly level up. One day, if I have kids, I intend to carry forward their legacy.