My two oldest kiddos are at the front end of their teen years. I remember that time in my own life. I was loud, somewhat dramatic, I let my hormones control me, and I never—ever—apologized. This last part was because no one ever really taught me the value of apology or relationship repair.

Now, I could do some parent blaming here but let’s be real, if you were a kid whose formative years were scattered between the late ’80s and early ’90s, did you get apologies from your parents? If so, count that blessing! Most parents were still living with the school of thought that apologies would show weakness and that kids would take advantage. Research and science have come a long way in the last 25-30 years.

When I became a mom almost 15 years ago, I was all set up to gentle parent before it was even cool. I had a fresh degree in education with all the newest methods, a supportive husband, a deep love for children, and a very gentle firstborn.

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Then, the second one came and the sea started to swirl. The third entered our mix along with the timing of some grief and trauma and the waves became rough. Add to that moves, job changes, more deaths of loved ones, and the adoption of a beautiful sibling set of three, and we’ve added hurricane watches to our daily family forecast.

I’ve had no shortage of mistakes, temper flares, strong words, and regrettable actions. But one positive item that has never been in short supply has been a deep desire to say I’m sorry and ask for my children’s grace and forgiveness.

Whether it’s a quick temper flare that is reconcilable in moments or the reminder of a mode of discipline implemented over months that needs an apology years later, my kids hear “I’m sorry” from me a lot.

A few days ago before church, my oldest daughter and I got into an argument. I did my best to stay calm even calling on her father who can better handle some of these moments of teen angst. At one point, I was so tired of being interrupted, that I raised my voice to a scream. I was weary of feeling disrespected. It was around that time I knew I had to make my exit. I had to get myself in check.

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A few moments later as I was doing my makeup, my daughter came and stood beside me in the mirror. ”Mom, I’m really sorry for how I acted. I was wrong.”

I replied with a deep apology of my own, “Honey, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have screamed at you like that.”

Her reply took my breath away, “Mom, I don’t know how else you would have gotten my attention. I was interrupting you, and I was over the line.” Ya’ll, she’s 12. She has more skills and self-awareness than I did at 22, maybe even at 32.

There is no special formula. If there is a parenting faux pas to be made, I’ve been there. I still believe deeply in discipline and consequences, but the Lord has changed my heart to one of grace, and he’s opened my eyes to how incredibly imperfect I am. Just owning this in front of my children has sown the seed of humility and honesty in their hearts, and I couldn’t be more grateful.