(CNN)Before the pandemic, many of us found ourselves doing a little more parenting than we knew we ought to be doing.
Maybe we weren't full-on "helicopters" or "snow plows," and, no, we would never have done something illegal to try to ensure our kids' success.
Still, many of our parenting decisions — especially those of us privileged enough to be making lots of choices about our children's lives — were informed by more "shoulds" than "coulds."
The diagnosis? Never-enough-itis. The symptoms? Busyness, guilt and deluding ourselves into thinking we could pull this off.
Our kids, the magical thinking went, would be wildly successful, self-motivated and down-to-earth, and we parents would remain balanced and happy. Rising income inequality, a lack of community and the increasingly winner-takes-all atmosphere in which we live didn't help.
But now, the chaos and suffering brought on by Covid-19 have laid bare just how impossible our parenting standards are.
It has never been clearer how much is expected of parents, mostly moms, with little support from our workplaces and public institutions. Contrary to popular belief, moms are also subject to the time constraints created by the rotation of the planet. We too, only have 24 hours in a day.
Then there is the impact on our kids, our poor kids, who saw what little agency they had over their time and life choices go down the drain. Our children don't need us pushing them to be shinier, more brag-worthy versions of themselves in this moment.
Two new books consider what perfectionist parenting does to the human brain, and what a relaxed, more compassionate parenting can look like for parents and kids. While both titles were written pre-Covid, their messages about privileging connection over perfection are more urgent than ever.
It's hard to avoid perfectionism
Judith Warner, author of the recently published "And Then They Stopped Talking to Me: Making Sense of Middle School" had never intended to be a parent that pushed her kids too far.
"It was always my very conscious intent — my most precious hope as a parent, in fact — that my daughters would feel loved and valued for who they were and not what they accomplished," Warner said of her daughters, now 20 and 23.
But even with the best of intentions, her kids got the wrong message anyway. This was partly from the world around them, which defined success in somewhat narrow terms: good grades, fancy college degree, followed by professional success. It was also because no matter how hard we try to say the right things, our children tend to be keen observers of our true, sometimes even unconcious, desires.
"As so much social science research has shown, children learn far more from the way that we live and the things that we do than they do from what we say, and, particularly once they hit middle school age," said Warner, also the author of the bestselling 2006 book "Perfect Madness: Motherhood in the Age of Anxiety."
Tweens and young teens are "super-sensitive to the gap between what we say and what we do," she said.
These actions that speak louder than words can help our children feel like a product; something we shape, mold and nurture, with an intended outcome in mind.
In "Parenting Outside the Lines: Forget the Rules, Tap into Your Wisdom, and Connect with Your Child," writer and parenting coach Meghan Leahy noted how, in the past, parents were more inclined to stand back and watch kids become who they are. That's how most older millennial adults I know were raised.