For years, saying yes to every school activity, birthday party, or fundraiser seemed like the only possible option. For a father of four, turning down any of these proposals was almost synonymous with feeling guilty.
Yet that feeling ultimately led him to question a parenting model that, based on his experience, accumulates an ever-growing number of commitments without anyone stopping to ask whether they are truly sustainable for families.
His reflection starts from a simple idea: the problem lies not in any single activity, but in the sum of dozens of small obligations that, taken separately, seem reasonable, yet together end up overwhelming everyday life.
When every "yes" feels like an obligation
The author acknowledges that for a long time he accepted almost everything. Themed weeks at school, birthday parties for classmates his children barely knew, extra training sessions, and charity campaigns were all part of a never-ending schedule.
The hardest part, he explains, is that none of these proposals is absurd on its own. On the contrary: all of them are well-intentioned. One aims to foster creativity, another raises money for an important cause, and another offers new opportunities for the kids. That is precisely why it is so hard to say no.
Over time, he began to notice that this dynamic created a cycle that was difficult to break. Each new commitment seemed small, but the cumulative weight built an exhausting routine that no family had consciously chosen.
It was then that he began to wonder whether many other parents were not living through exactly the same situation: trying to meet ever-higher expectations out of fear of becoming the family that "doesn't pitch in."
The problem is not the activities themselves, but the logic that multiplies them
From that reflection, he reached a conclusion that changed the way he sees parenting. As he argues, many families say they are seeking "the best" for their children, but in practice that goal tends to translate into a constant accumulation of activities.
More sports, more workshops, more experiences, and more commitments end up becoming a kind of measure of parental effort. Behind that logic, he sees another, less obvious issue: the anxiety of believing that greater effort guarantees better outcomes in children's development.
The author maintains that this need to always do a little more ends up occupying spaces that were once reserved for free time, for boredom, or simply for having nothing planned.
A pressure that has also shifted alongside changes in family life
Another aspect he highlights is that many of today's demands were designed for a very different context than the present one. He recalls that much of the school and community organization emerged at a time when it was common for one adult to remain at home and be able to handle a large part of the daily logistics.
Today, he argues, the reality for many families is different. Both parents often work outside the home, and yet expectations around participation in school and social activities continue to grow.
For that reason, he insists that his decision to start saying "no" does not reflect a lack of interest in his children. What he is trying to reject is the idea that love must be measured by the number of activities a family manages to fit into its calendar.
He acknowledges that guilt still surfaces every time he declines an invitation or decides not to take part in some proposal. However, he has stopped allowing that feeling to be the sole criterion for making decisions.
He continues to attend birthday parties and participates in some school activities, especially those that genuinely excite his children. The difference, he explains, is that he no longer sees every rejected commitment as proof of a lack of dedication, but rather as a way of preserving time, energy and space for family life.
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