There is a fragile tension between helicopter parenting and allowing too much independence when it comes to parenting a toddler. I try to let Little Man play alone for short periods while I take care of the normal day-to-day household management, like dishes and laundry. And for the most part, it works perfectly!
Yesterday, while I put away groceries, Little Man wandered upstairs to his bedroom. I could hear his toddler feet pounding the floor above me as he ran back and forth through the room. The crashing as hard, plastic and metal playthings were thrown from his toy box. And then, silence.
Silence, of course, is the bane of every toddler parent's existence. Silence could mean that he's fallen asleep. It seems to happen instantly. I'll find him lying on his face, sprawled across the floor, a toy in one hand, the other tucked up under his little body. So adorable! Or, it could mean he's doing something he knows will get him into trouble. Like sneaking into the master bedroom to filch crystal stones from Mommy's curio cabinet and stash them inside the cabin of a die-cast, scale muscle car. Whichever it is, it always bears investigating!
Hoping that it's the former and he's taking an oft-needed nap, I tiptoe up the stairs and peek into his bedroom. Instead of lying asleep on the carpet, I find him sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by several of his toy cars. He's got them in a semicircle, front-ends facing him, as he holds court in a quiet, but very intense, one-sided conversation. Noticing me in the doorway, he jumps to his feet, waving his arms at me. "No no no no no! Get down! Get down!!"
"Well, okay, then! I'll be downstairs if you need me!"
Chuckling at my insistent little fan of the Cars movies, I head back to the kitchen. Parenting win! Little Man is playing by himself, using his imagination, and practicing his conversation skills. Allowing him his space and some unsupervised time successful! Stay tuned for Part II to read about when it most definitely is not!
Yesterday, while I put away groceries, Little Man wandered upstairs to his bedroom. I could hear his toddler feet pounding the floor above me as he ran back and forth through the room. The crashing as hard, plastic and metal playthings were thrown from his toy box. And then, silence.
Silence, of course, is the bane of every toddler parent's existence. Silence could mean that he's fallen asleep. It seems to happen instantly. I'll find him lying on his face, sprawled across the floor, a toy in one hand, the other tucked up under his little body. So adorable! Or, it could mean he's doing something he knows will get him into trouble. Like sneaking into the master bedroom to filch crystal stones from Mommy's curio cabinet and stash them inside the cabin of a die-cast, scale muscle car. Whichever it is, it always bears investigating!
Hoping that it's the former and he's taking an oft-needed nap, I tiptoe up the stairs and peek into his bedroom. Instead of lying asleep on the carpet, I find him sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by several of his toy cars. He's got them in a semicircle, front-ends facing him, as he holds court in a quiet, but very intense, one-sided conversation. Noticing me in the doorway, he jumps to his feet, waving his arms at me. "No no no no no! Get down! Get down!!"
"Well, okay, then! I'll be downstairs if you need me!"
Chuckling at my insistent little fan of the Cars movies, I head back to the kitchen. Parenting win! Little Man is playing by himself, using his imagination, and practicing his conversation skills. Allowing him his space and some unsupervised time successful! Stay tuned for Part II to read about when it most definitely is not!
Comments
Post a Comment