Chloe and I were playing a card game after school and Ellie wanted to observe/help/make encouraging suggestions/send good vibes/take over the entire game by tearing the cards from my trembling, paper-cut hands.

 
Ellie noticed after about four exchanges that I let Chloe earn some points I could have prevented and she reacted with what we refer to in this family as “rage-face.”
“Mom! I can’t play with you anymore if you’re going to let her win! Do you just let me win?”

 
Sometimes.

 
Years ago, I never let the kids win. I wanted to teach them the bigger lesson, sometimes we win- sometimes we lose, we can’t be great at everything, losing teaches us character, losing gracefully is a far better lesson than winning and holding it over your opponent.

 
But three kids later and I don’t mind reading the cues from my exhausted child and occasionally throwing a move her way to either a) speed things along or b) hold her interest.

 
Contrary to what Ellie thought was happening, I wasn’t letting Chloe win. I just wasn’t letting her lose as badly as a full-on skunking.

 
The game was Sleeping Queens, the exchange of dragons, knights, queens and kings.

We weren’t saving lives or feeding the world’s hungry. We were feeding the world’s plastic hippos.

 
The winner of the game was not going home with a Nobel Peace Prize or changing the course of history.

 
The winner was likely wanting to get dinner started and the loser seemed at peace with coming in a close second.

 
Do you let your kids win?