Two Steps Forward

Parenting toward independence

When our kids were little, we used to describe their developmental stages as “two steps forward, one step back.” They’d sit up by themselves right around the time they cut their first tooth, or they learned to crawl just as the second nap went away, and exactly when we thought we had bedtime figured out, first steps were taken and everything changed. The only thing that could really be counted on in those early years was change, and once we accepted that, it made adjusting to circumstances – whatever they might be – more an adventure than a challenge.

Adventures in parenting is what having kids is all about, because really, kids (babies) are just exploring, engaging, interacting, and examining this thing called life around them. We’re the ones who get to adjust, react, manage, and shift our expectations from how things should/would/could be to how things are. Imagine if every single experience you had was new, and your only context for any of it was the reactions of that big person who made sure you were fed, warm, dry, and safe. Those reactions then become the foundation for how you interact with the next adventure, and the next one, until you have a whole structure built around how you experience the world.

We didn’t do a lot of child-proofing when Connor was born – we’d lived in our house for five years and had things decorated just how we liked them. And I figured we had time because it would be eight months before he could motor around on his own. I remember that my mom came to visit around the time Connor began crawling, and she taught me something I never forgot – instead of saying “no,” or “don’t touch” when the baby got too close to something fragile, she just followed behind him as he explored his environment, flying the delicate things out of the way of his grasping hands, or holding her own hand over corners to soften the blow when he inevitably bumped into them. There were so many new things to see that he didn’t need to reach for the fragile things, and she didn’t need to pepper her language with “no” as he experienced each new thing.

*Side note. Consider not getting a new puppy when your baby or toddler is learning language. The sheer amount of “NO!” that comes out of your mouth at the teething and house-training puppy is indistinguishable to a baby’s understanding of words directed at them.

The two steps forward, one step back continued in far less obvious ways as our kids got older, but because I learned to expect them, the only surprise was which form the one step back would take. Steps backward weren’t actual losses, just temporary pauses and adjustments to the new skill or experience. Ed and I rarely let the adjustments upset us because it was just part of development, and I think our lack of reaction became something our kids learned to trust. They were already dealing with the turmoil that the new developmental milestone caused them – they didn’t have to wrestle with a negative reaction from us too.

Removing the danger from their path as they navigated their new skills, just like my mom had modeled with the exploring baby, became an effective way to parent developing children, and attempting to look at each new experience through their eyes gave us new levels of empathy. Trust began to be built on both sides as our children found new levels of independence – trust that they could do it, whatever “it” was, trust that we had their backs, and trust that we were always going to be there to return to when it was too much, too soon, or too new.

When our kids were four and eight, we were visiting Dawson City, Yukon (a tiny town in the Yukon Territory of Canada with one paved road and wood plank sidewalks) where Ed was working. Our family was staying in a tiny, one room cabin in town, and Ed and I hadn’t had an adult moment alone since I’d gotten there with the kids. So we handed them a walkie-talkie and made a deal with them. We were going for a walk, and would take the other walkie-talkie while they babysat themselves. If there had been no problems when we got back, they would each earn $5. They shrugged, turned back to the Minecraft LAN world they’d been playing on with their iPads, and we were able to leave for an hour.

*The retelling of that event is much more dramatic, with “if there’s no blood when we get back” as the motive for payment, but our kids weren’t fighters, so that doesn’t do them justice.

The best part about learning to trust them to keep themselves safe was that when we got home, I felt able to run to the grocery store without bundling everyone into the car with me, and even more liberating, I could close my bedroom door to write while they played in the rest of the house.

Even now, with teenaged and adult kids and a house stocked with food, it can be hard to leave them to take care of the dog and themselves. But the trust that was built between us when they were small has only grown, and leaving them is hard just because I like them so much that I enjoy spending time with them.

Now, with every step forward our children take into their lives, I appreciate to the steps they take back into our home, where they’re trusted, they’re safe, and they let us parent them for just a little bit longer.