There are moments in motherhood when you suddenly find yourself face to face with a miniature version of yourself… shouting a very firm: “NO!” Welcome to the toddler phase—the stage where children discover their own will, and express it by refusing absolutely everything. This “no” is not just defiance. It is their first cry for autonomy, their first statement: I am me. But for mothers—and especially for the “worst” mother—it can sometimes feel like that phase never really ends.
Where the “Yes-mother” bends along cheerfully and always finds a creative “yes, if…”, the “No-mother” is the one who stands firmly grounded. She is the mother of boundaries, of structure, the party-pooper at dinner time, the “no, not with those scissors in your nose” mother. And yes, that role is anything but sexy, loved, or easy. Boundaries are love. Children need structure, even though they would much rather lean toward chaos and chocolate sprinkles for dinner. The No-mother knows: if you give in now, tomorrow will be war. While the Yes-mother is already on the couch with a bowl of popcorn saying, “Ah, just one more episode!”
Still, most of the time, the No-mother wins. With narrowed eyes and a deep sigh. Because sleep, rest, and predictability are sometimes more important than a cheerful toddler at nine in the evening who wants to let his dinosaurs swim in the toilet.
My sister, with her two children, at one point sounded like a cross between a police officer and someone with Tourette’s. Our phone conversations were interrupted every thirty seconds by: “NO! You can’t do that!” I could hear her shouting in the background: “STOP CLIMBING!” “NO PANCAKES ON THE WALL!” And when we finally managed to have an actual conversation, she collapsed on the couch, completely exhausted. We laughed until we cried, because honestly—even the No-mother sometimes just wants a warm cup of tea and five minutes without being called.
Of course, “no” also sometimes comes from your own preferences. I hate fairs—the noise, the flashing lights, the smell of sugar and stress. So when my Puzzle Daughter wanted to go at eleven years old, I said no. Simply because I couldn’t handle it. Later, I saw on social media that she had gone anyway, with friends, without me. And you know what? That was actually a good thing. Sometimes children need to find their own way, to experience their own consequences. Their own stomach aches from too much cotton candy—just like I once had from too many plums. A double dragon, you could say. No one had warned me either.
Yes and no are sisters. Sometimes you are a Yes-mother. Sometimes a No-mother. And most of the time, you are somewhere in between, balancing on the tightrope of parenting—between letting go and holding on. Every “no” you say is, in its own way, an act of love. Not the easy kind of love that gives in, but the harder kind that says: I see you, I guide you, I protect you—even when you don’t understand it yet.
☕️ A cup of comfort
For all the mothers who said “no” today
to Netflix, sweets, nail polish on the cat,
or sleeping in a cardboard box in the garden
— this cup is for you.
You don’t always have to be the sweet mother.
Not always the creative mother.
Not always the spiritual, patient, calm,
perfectly balanced mother.
Sometimes you are simply the mother
who sighed deeply and said “no”
while picking half a sandwich off the floor.
And that, dear mother, is more than enough. ❤️
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