Why Won’t My 5-Year-Old Listen in Class? A Real Talk on Public Parenting, Perfectionism, and Strong-Willed Kids

If you’ve ever sat in a tumbling class, a soccer game, a dance recital, or even a piano lesson—watching your child completely ignore the instructor while the other kids follow along—you’re not alone. And you’re definitely not a bad parent.

It happened to me just last night.

I was sitting in the viewing area with the other parents, quietly watching our 5-year-olds in tumbling class. Most of the girls were following directions—stretching when the coach asked, twirling their ribbons in sync, staying with the group.

Then there was my daughter.

She was lying in child’s pose while everyone else stretched.
She was doing forward rolls while the other kids were twirling.
At one point, a few of the girls stopped to watch her, distracted from what they were supposed to be doing.

And right on cue, that familiar shame-spiral showed up:

“You should be more consistent.”
“You say yes too much.”
“She’s not listening because you don’t follow through.”

Suddenly, I wasn’t watching my daughter anymore—I was watching myself.
Wondering what the coaches thought.
Wondering if the other parents were silently judging.
Wondering if this moment meant I was doing something wrong.

🧠 Sound familiar?

If you've ever searched:

• “My child won’t listen during lessons”

• “Why does my 5-year-old ignore instructions?”

• “What if my child is disruptive in class?”

• “Feeling judged when your kid misbehaves in public”

—this post is for you.

Because here’s the thing: perfectionism shows up in parenting fast—especially in public.
We feel like our child’s behavior is a reflection of us.
And when they’re not following directions, it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking we’ve failed.

But that’s not true.

My daughter wasn’t trying to be disruptive. She was being five. She was curious, expressive, and totally in her own world. And I wasn’t failing—I was parenting a real child in a real moment.

💡 Parenting Takeaway:

You’re not raising a tiny performer. You’re raising a whole human.
One who’s learning—and one who needs grace, not perfection.
And so do you.