• I often praised my children to others instead of to them directly.
• My upbringing made it hard for me to express encouragement openly.
• A painful conversation with my son changed how I parent adult kids.

Several years ago, while driving behind a car with a "my-child-is-an-honor-student" bumper sticker, I said to my oldest son, sitting in the passenger seat, "I always wanted one of those."

He, then a college student, replied, "Why? It doesn't mean anything."

He was right. In the greater scheme of things, achieving honor roll in elementary or middle school is not a significant accomplishment. Nor is it a predictor of future success. Even so, I still wanted one!

None of my five children was an academic superstar. They rarely achieved honor roll for more than one quarter of any school year, and none was named to the Dean's List in college. Nevertheless, I've always been exceedingly proud of each one. In fact, I'm constantly singing their praises to anyone who'll listen.

The problem is, I rarely commend them directly.

My parents did not praise me

Maybe that's because my parents were not generous with praise. Their generation was not hardwired for affirmation, so I did not learn from experience how formative praise is.

I was a well-behaved kid, a decent student, and a pretty compliant daughter. I didn't need positive reinforcement to motivate me, although it would have been nice to receive some occasionally.

Growing up in the mid-20^th century, the expectation for most girls like me was to earn an MRS, not an MBA. So, when in my senior year of high school, I was accepted into all five colleges I applied to, my parents were not over the moon with excitement.

The day the fifth acceptance letter arrived from my first-choice school, I couldn't wait to share the news with my dad. I'd hoped he'd be as happy as I was. If he was, he didn't show it, and to this day, I still feel disappointed that he didn't give me a big hug and tell me he was proud.

It shouldn't be so hard to say 'well done'

I was effusive with praise when my kids were small. We celebrated each milestone from learning to use the toilet to tying their shoes to riding a bike. But as they've grown, I've been a much quieter cheerleader.

The year my third son's Little League team won the championship I consoled him when he struck out but did not high-five him for hitting the line drive that clinched the series. When another son sang a solo during a school concert that was so beautiful it silenced the audience, I was too stunned to tell him he'd done an amazing job.

Now that they're adults, each of my children is achieving great things. One's an artist in high demand. Another's a photographer whose work is published internationally. My youngest son, a UX designer, was recruited by a top tech company halfway through his junior year of college. My second son, who works in finance, created a unique investment vehicle that has launched his career into the stratosphere.

Each of their successes is extraordinary, which is all the more reason I should tell them I'm proud.

My kids want to know I'm proud of them

Of course, I'm more than willing to tell friends, colleagues, and even mere acquaintances about all my kids accomplish. I post to Zoom chats and populate Slack channels with proud mama moments all the time. I share links to the Google alerts I've set up and forward their Reels from Instagram. I'm constantly sending photos in group chats, but I rarely send them texts to say how thrilled I am for them.

I'm trying to figure out why I'm so reluctant. Maybe it's because I'm overwhelmed by their success. Where did the talent come from? Certainly not from me. Regardless, as their mother, I should congratulate them for all they're doing.

I didn't realize just how important that is until my third son confronted me with an email I'd written years before about a photo essay he'd published. Instead of complimenting his work, I critiqued the composition. He was devastated by my comments. He'd worked hard on the project and had hoped I would recognize its value. Instead, I wrote about its flaws.

When he read my words back to me, I was shocked. Not only did I not remember writing them, but I also had a hard time figuring out why I was so negative. I was ashamed I'd hurt him. At that moment, I realized no matter their age, my kids want my praise. Since then, I've been working really hard to tell each one just how proud of them I truly am.

They're extraordinary people, and they should hear that often from their mother.

• Before I had kids, I didn't put much thought or prep into my travel plans.
• A few encounters while abroad have made me change my ways now that I often have kids with me.
• I now travel with apostilled copies of their birth certificates and a letter from their father.

Before kids, I traveled the world alone with nothing more than a backpack and a worn guidebook. I rarely made plans in advance and enjoyed the spontaneity and surprises that were a part of globetrotting without much advance planning.

Once I started traveling with my children, that approach seemed irresponsible and, at times, downright dangerous. Now, I put a lot more care and thought into my trips before leaving home.

As someone who has taken my kids to 30 countries on six continents, I've found that a little advanced planning goes a long way. Here are the four steps I always take before traveling with my kids to help ensure that our trips go smoothly and that we all stay safe.

I always look up the emergency number for wherever we are.

Once, while driving in Canada with my kids, I got lost in a dark, industrial neighborhood at night. No one was around, and I started to feel uneasy, unsure if anyone was lurking in the shadows.

At home, I knew I could call 9-1-1 for assistance in an emergency. However, as my panic level started to rise, I realized I didn't know who to call for help in Canada. (I've since learned the number to dial is actually 9-1-1, but that's not the case for most other countries.)

Eventually, I found my way back to civilization, no worse for wear. However, now I always look up the emergency number to call when I land.

On a subsequent trip to Paris, an Uber began veering wildly off course. It turned out the driver had detoured due to construction, but I was glad I knew to dial 1-1-2 instead of 9-1-1 if I thought my kids were in danger.

I double-check that my health insurance covers us wherever we are going

When I was young and reckless, I assumed I would never get sick or injured, especially on a trip. In hindsight, I was remarkably lucky that I never caught more than a mild case of Montezuma's Revenge abroad.

After a health scare on a trip to Jamaica, I no longer take any chances. Midway through what was supposed to be a relaxing trip, my son developed a fever and started vomiting. The resort where we were staying called a doctor who suspected appendicitis. I panicked, wondering if our insurance would cover a pricey operation or medical evacuation.

Fortunately, my son recovered quickly with an antibiotic, but now I always double-check that our health insurance will cover us abroad, including to far-flung destinations like Antarctica. If not, I will look into buying travel insurance that will cover medical care and evacuation. Before travel, I also check that my children have all the recommended vaccines for our trip.

I always pack my children's birth certificates

My first trip abroad after becoming a mother was to a destination wedding in the Caribbean. I was allowed in easily with my infant son strapped to my chest. However, leaving was not so easy. When trying to return home, a border guard questioned me extensively, asking for proof that I was the baby's mother. I managed to convince the agent that I was indeed my son's mother, but the situation rattled me.

To avoid a similar issue, I now carry official copies of my children's birth certificates when we travel abroad. For good measure, I had the documents apostilled by the Secretary of State for Washington, DC, where they were born. An apostille is a type of verification similar to notarization, but it is recognized in more than 125 countries worldwide, making it a better choice for international travel.

Although this may seem like overkill, I have been asked for proof that my children are mine twice, once when entering the United States and once when entering the U.K. Although I likely could have proven my children are mine without these documents, I don't want to take any chances, and having them on hand made the process much easier and faster.

I get a notarized letter from my children's father stating that I have permission to travel with them

Although my husband and I are happily married, his demanding work schedule often leaves me traveling solo with our kids. On several occasions, immigration officials have asked me for proof that I had my husband's permission to take my children abroad.

Once, I was asked for the same documentation when returning to the United States. Now, I always carry a notarized letter of consent signed by my husband. I use a free template I found online and update it with the specific dates and location for every trip, then I take it to my bank to have it notarized for free before we go.

Although carrying additional documents can be a pain, I remind myself that additional paperwork is for my children's protection because it helps combat child trafficking and kidnapping.

• Many tech leaders say they're ditching screen time limits, though some still use them.
• Instead, they're focused on how their kids are interacting with technology, prioritizing creativity.
• Short-form video and social media remain major concerns for many parents.

These days, parenting means navigating a seemingly endless parade of decisions about technology. Can your toddler watch "Sesame Street" on an iPad? Does FaceTiming the grandparents count toward screen time? Should your teen have access to social media just because "everyone else" seems to?

Parents are more cognizant than ever about the pitfalls — and potential — of technology, so it's natural to wonder how the people leading tech companies handle this with their own kids. Paypal cofounder Peter Thiel and Snapchat CEO Evan Spiegel have both said they limit their young children (all 8 or under) to an hour and a half of screen time per week. Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg has said that he wants his kids to use screens for communication, not passive consumption.

It turns out, tech leaders, for the most part, are like the rest of us: trying to balance screen-free time and critical thinking skills, while also giving their kids access to the world that technology can unlock.

Here's how seven tech leaders are handling technology decisions for their families.

Finding the middle

Kate Doerksen is the co-founder and CEO of Sage Haven, an app that helps parents monitor their kids' messaging. Her kids, who are 7 and 9, get an hour per day on their iPads or Nintendo Switch, plus additional time if the family is playing a video game together. She plans to delay smartphones and social media, but her daughter has an Apple Watch with messenger (which Doerksen monitors).

"Like most things in life, the right answer feels like it lies somewhere in the middle," Doerksen says. "It's not tech abstinence, and it's not unlimited, unfettered usage. It's moderate usage on non-addictive apps and games with boundaries."

Learning and creating

As the chief learning officer at the online education company Stride, Niyoka McCoy, sees tech as a normal part of life, but she's still intentional about how her children — who are 14 and 2 — use it.

"We believe technology should be a tool for learning and creativity first, and entertainment second," she says. Her kids don't have hard-and-fast screen time limits, but McCoy aims to avoid them passively consuming content.

"When kids spend too much time scrolling or watching instead of creating, learning, or building something meaningful," she says, "that is when technology stops being beneficial."

Focusing on well-being, not screen time

Three years ago, Hari Ravichandran's daughter, who was then 13, went through a tough time — one that he believes her access to a smartphone contributed to. He had given her a phone at 13, but now believes that was too young, so he decided to take the phone away and delay access until 15 or 16 for her as well as his three younger children.

"I knew we couldn't just send her back into the same digital environment that had amplified those issues," said Ravichandran, the founder and CEO of online security company Aura.

At the same time, "What I think is overblown is the idea that technology itself is the enemy," Ravichandran says. "Cutting it out completely doesn't solve the root problem and can actually limit kids' independence and digital literacy."

Today, he focuses on how technology impacts his children's mood, sleep, self-esteem, and overall well-being.

"For us, it's less about strict bans and more about awareness, accountability, and open dialogue," he says.

Making sure values align

Tim Sheehan, co-founder and CEO Greenlight — which provides debit cards for children and teens — gave his four kids access to smartphones at 12, and social media at 15. His kids now range in age from 17 to 26. When they were younger, he watched their tech consumption closely, knowing how impressionable they were.

"My goal is to make sure the outside influences in their lives support the values we're trying to instill," he says.

Limiting short-term video

Justice Eroline, chief technology officer at the software development firm BairesDev, has a blanket rule of 1 hour of screen time for his kids, who are 8, 10, and 12. Even within that, he pays close attention to the type of content they're watching.

"I don't allow short-form content for the kids as it affects their attention span," he says.

Ahu Chhapgar, chief technology officer at fintech company Paysafe and dad of two (ages 10 and 13), says short-form video worries him more than anything else.

"When kids get access to it, they almost enter a trance," he says. "That level of stimulus is not how the brain evolved to process information, and I do worry about long-term effects on attention and impulse control."

Allowing AI, and gaming

Unlike some parents, Eroline is much less concerned about gaming.

"Video games can teach kids a lot of different things: teamwork, reaction time, problem solving, grit, dealing with defeat," Eroline says. "The content of the video game might be questionable, but there are plenty that can work for different age ranges."

Chhapgar won't let his kids have access to smartphones until they're 14, and social media until they're 16, but he does encourage them to use ChatGPT for 20 minutes each day.

"No one has all the answers about AI yet," he says. "So I'd rather they explore, build, and experiment responsibly instead of just passively consuming technology."

Controlling the interaction

Nik Kale, principal engineer with Cisco Systems, makes sure that his 3-year-old isn't given a screen when she's upset.

"I don't want her building a dependency where the first response to discomfort is a device," he explains.

He also ensures that he or his wife — not an algorithm — are choosing what their daughter sees.

"I don't let automated systems make unsupervised decisions in my production environments at work," he says. "I'm not going to let one make unsupervised decisions about what my three-year-old's brain consumes either."

That, to him, is much more important than seemingly arbitrary screen time limits.

"Parents are adding up minutes like it's a toxicity dosage," he says, "when the real variable is whether a human or an algorithm is driving the experience."