Toddler Parenting the Independent Child: “Let Me Help You”
“I do it, Mama!” Welcome to the stage of toddler parenting where your independent child is suddenly the professional in all matters. It’s the era of spilled milk, mismatched outfits and delays getting out the door. You’re torn between the urge to step in and prevent disaster, and the acknowledgement that your child is learning, growing, and on the brink of something brilliant.
And so, you let them. You take the extra sip of coffee while they “tie” their shoelaces (“bunny goes around the tree…”). You correct yourself to your partner: “Dinner will not, in fact, be on the table by 7,” while reminding your tiny sous to “stir, stir, stir!”
Through the time not wasted but fully invested, you hope you will have crafted some semblance of a productive member of society. You will be right. Your sacrifice will pay dividends and soon you will be on the road to free labor extra help around the house! But you are human, and you know that direct intervention is not always necessary in the kitchen, the bathtub, the playroom. Your independent child is engaging in natural learning. There are matters of the heart, however, that only its Creator can mold.
Here, we come to Mary, another human mother and toddler parent, who likely warned a carpenter-trainee Jesus of the danger of leaving nails around the house, maybe kissed the boo-boos of a hammer against his thumb. In these moments, she recalls the song she sang when she first heard of his existence: “He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy...” (Luke 1:54).
Mary knew the maternal instinct to take control was only natural. “The work would be done faster, better, cleaner, if only I grab hold of things,” was true, however limiting. The idea she had in mind as she sang this song was, “Oh Lord, there is no help greater than yours, no solution to the human condition except You. You have taken the reigns of my people and will set our childish ways straight.”
The word “helped” comes from the root “lambanō,” meaning “take hold of.” It is the gut reaction that shouts to our independent child, “Let me help you,” even as our feet are already moving, hands posed to rescue. There is a confidence that comes with direct intervention, and is the security blanket God gifted Israel in the birth of Christ. While bullheaded as toddlers, He knew their strength was as newborns— desperate for His care. Through generations of stumbling and skinned knees, He took matters into his own hands through one final, perfect sacrifice, this independent child born to Mary.
Survival strategies can be taught, learned, and employed. Salvation can only be secured upon surrender, something toddlers fight tooth and nail. There are dangers to the human soul so high-stakes that only God can prevent them . There are wounds that run so deep, no Bluey Band-Aid can cover, but only a loving Father can close them. While I sit here on the playground, praying my daughter does not fall and break a limb without my hands to hold her up, I am so grateful for a God who knew exactly when to lay hold of my broken spirit.
