The Concrete Operational Stage, which spans roughly from ages 7 to 11, marks a turning point in children’s cognitive development. Jean Piaget described it as the moment when kids stop being fully immersed in their internal world and start understanding the external one through their own kind of logic. In other words, they go from being little poets of fantasy to little scientists of concrete thinking. They still struggle with abstract ideas, but they can now solve real-world problems, understand cause-and-effect relationships, and surprise you with questions like: “If water evaporates, where does it go?” or “Why does time go faster on weekends?” (a question adults still can’t answer clearly, by the way).

One of the key abilities that emerges during this stage is conservation—the understanding that certain properties of objects remain the same even when their appearance changes. That is, if you pour the same amount of juice from a tall glass into a short, wide one, they no longer panic thinking you’ve given them less. Basic math starts to make sense, and kids become little justice auditors, counting every candy with the precision of a seasoned accountant. If there’s an extra candy, it must be split evenly… unless they can argue, “I earned it because I did the dishes.”

During this period, kids also develop seriation (the ability to order objects based on characteristics like size or weight) and classification. They now understand that a dog is an animal, but not all animals are dogs (amazing, but true). Their thinking becomes reversible, allowing them to grasp that if 3+2=5, then 5-2=3. It may sound simple, but it’s a monumental leap from the magical thinking of earlier stages.

Lev Vygotsky, on the other hand, continues to emphasize the importance of social interaction as the engine of cognitive development. For him, learning is still deeply shaped by the child’s cultural and social environment. At this point, the “Zone of Proximal Development” becomes more sophisticated, since children can now engage in more complex activities with the right guidance. Vygotsky speaks not just of learning to do, but of learning to think in a new way—more reflective and collaborative. That’s why an adult who asks provocative questions like “What do you think?” or introduces strategic games is helping cultivate more critical, structured thinking.

Language remains an essential tool. Children no longer just narrate their play; they begin to use language to plan, reflect, and argue. Where they once said “because I said so,” now they’ll present arguments worthy of a board meeting: “If my sister had two ice creams this week and I only had one, then I deserve another one to make it fair.” Welcome to the era of emerging moral thinking, where justice becomes a life philosophy.

Socially, this is the golden age of friendships. Kids form groups, teams, and secret clubs. The rules of the game no longer change halfway through (well, almost never), and peer conflicts become opportunities to practice negotiation, empathy, and leadership. They learn they can get along even with someone who thinks differently, and that being part of a group comes with responsibilities—like sharing, taking turns, and not blatantly cheating (though there’s always one who tries).

Academically, this stage is crucial for solidifying reading, writing, and problem-solving skills. Kids start to see learning not just as a requirement, but as a way to discover how the world works. More defined interests emerge: some fall in love with science, others with maps, art, or random facts—like how much an elephant weighs or what happened in 3500 BC (spoiler: not much, but they still want to know).

And as is tradition, let’s return to the eternal cookie dilemma. At this stage, the debate is no longer about whether a broken cookie is worth less or if one piece is bigger. Now things get serious: “If there are four cookies and three of us, there’s one left over. But if I washed the dishes yesterday and no one helped me, I think I deserve the extra one.” Yes, we’re witnessing a moral evolution: the rise of childhood utilitarian reasoning. And if there’s a dispute, expect arguments, evidence, precedents, and maybe even a mini protest with crossed arms.

In short, the concrete operational stage is when children become logical explorers of the world, guided by a mix of curiosity, a hunger for fairness, and a drive to understand how things work. And even if they no longer believe their toys have souls (well, some still do), they now firmly believe in fairness, clear rules, and that every good argument should end with a cookie—or two, if the case was strong enough.

Being a parent is not just about educating, providing, and protecting; it is also, often without realizing it, about not projecting our emotional burdens onto our children. Children learn not only from what we tell them but also from what they see us do and what they feel at home. And when stress, anxiety, or adult worries seep into their daily lives, they may end up taking on responsibilities that do not belong to them.

Adult stress does not magically disappear, and it often manifests at home in subtle but significant ways. When a parent comes home from work frustrated, with a furrowed brow and short responses, the child learns to measure their words, to see expressing emotions as risky, or to feel responsible for calming others. Without realizing it, we teach them that the well-being of the home depends on them, when in reality, it is the adults who must manage their own emotions.

Furthermore, in an attempt to lighten our own burden, we sometimes delegate responsibilities to children that do not belong to them. It is not uncommon to see children comforting their parents, mediating family conflicts, or even taking on the role of emotional support. Phrases like «Don’t say that to Mom, she’s tired» or «Behave so Dad doesn’t get angry» send the message that they are responsible for the well-being of the adults. But a child should not have to worry about their parents’ emotional state or feel that their behavior determines the family’s stability.

This also happens with household responsibilities. It is important for children to learn habits and contribute according to their age, but when they start taking on tasks meant for adults—caring for younger siblings, managing family issues, or handling matters beyond their capacity—they are forced to grow up too soon. They develop a sense that they must always be available for others, that their own well-being is secondary, and that rest is a luxury they cannot afford.

We want our children to be responsible, to face life with maturity, but not at the cost of their childhood. Independence and a sense of responsibility develop in a healthy way when children grow up in an environment where their emotions are validated, where they can make mistakes without fear, and where they do not have to carry the weight of adult problems.

As parents, the challenge is to learn how to manage our own emotions without transferring them onto our children. It is okay to have difficult days, but it is not fair for them to become our therapists, assistants, or the guardians of our emotional stability. Our duty is to guide them, support them, and allow them to grow up in a safe environment, without the weight of the adult world on their shoulders. In the end, the greatest lesson we can teach them is not to carry responsibilities that do not belong to them, but to live their childhood with the lightness and joy they deserve.