Our two-year-old is a voracious eater. He likes breakfast. Lunch. Post-nap snack. Dinner. Dessert. And then whatever mix of week-old goldfish, broken pretzels, and smashed peanut butter crackers as can be found in the crevices of his car seat, play area, or shorts.
When he gets fussy, the diagnosis is not difficult: “You need more food!”
He nods, vigorously. I reach for the spoon, scoop some of his favorite oatmeal and begin to deliver calories to the mouth.
Problem. Solved. Take that terrible twos.
“No!!!!” he cries out as his head shakes furiously and his arms begin swinging at the spoon. Eventually, his right hand grabs the spoon and proceeds to throw it (and the newly-scooped oatmeal) to the ground.
Our dog delights. I despair.
“Logan - you love oatmeal!”
My helpful reminder is to no avail because now he is in full meltdown mode.
The first couple times this happened I was lost. Because, again, it’s all really quite obvious.
Yummy calories…
Delivered quickly…
In perfect, toddler-size apportionments…
= Success.
Unless, of course, he was hungry for something more than food.
What if the hunger to do it himself was stronger than even his desire for food?
What if the obvious problem is not the most important challenge?
What if the efficient answer is not addressing the real issue?
We live in a culture that places great value on quick-fix efficiency.
I need the floors cleaned. Roomba!
I need music without needing buttons and stacks of CDs. Alexa!
I need a quick communication without a full-on conversation. Text!
We hardly question our convenient efficiencies - or the underlying assumption that what matters most is fixing problems, fast.
But you know what is deeply ingrained in the babies and toddlers around us?
A fundamental wisdom that if they are going to flourish as humans, they have to learn to do life for themselves.
They have to be trusted.
They have to be empowered.
And that Takes. Time.
Mess with the wisdom, and fortunately they’ll go berserk until you figure it out.
What if we applied the wisdom of babies to all facets of our parenting?
Workplace leadership?
Teaching philosophy?
Foreign policy?
What if instead of trying to fix everything as quickly as possible, covering down for everybody who is slower, newer, or not-keeping-up with the process or the modern world…
…we found ways to let others do the work for themselves? What if instead of picking up the spoon, scooping, and delivering, we only pointed to the spoon? What if we also raised our hand in the air to suggest they could also try eating without a utensil?
As if making clear that while we are here/supportive/ a resource, we trust them…
To explore.
Own the process.
Learn - however inefficient and however messy.
Discover, even, new possibilities that can only ever be discovered when one is trusted.
And what if we applied this wisdom to ourselves?
Instead of quickly reading a few articles…
or purchasing some new clothes…
or buying another 20-day program…
or ordering some pills…
or racing through an online certification…
…we recognized that if we really want to grow and change in any meaningful way at all, speed is not part of the equation.
Like a toddler, we pick up a new thing and figure it out via the only tried-and-true way: we make a mess. Trial. Error. Creativity. Inefficiency. And, insofar as we keep giving ourselves room to fail, growth.
—
Three minutes later, Logan is finally calming down and pointing to the spoon.
“But you just threw this to the ground!”
Still, I hand it back.
And then awkwardly and slowly and with way too much oatmeal loaded onto the spoon, Logan begins to serve himself. Oatmeal arrives to the eyelashes, nostrils, and even part of the left ear, somehow. To be fair, some makes the mouth, too.
He scoops again.
Most of it drops into his bib on the way back to the mouth.
It’s all quite slow and wasteful and messy, and already I know this means there will be a bath required before the rest of the day can unfold.
Also, as his content demeanor and grin make clear, it’s exactly what he needs. It’s exactly what we all need.
What if we served up a few more meals of trust, empowerment, and dignity?
And while we’re at it, how about changing the definition of success from “fixed, fast” to “trusting the process”?
Oh gosh ... tears are rolling down my face and my tummy is sore from laughing outloud. I am not sure where all that joy is coming from - remembering the experiences with my own girls - or maybe be thankful that you have spoken a big truth that all of us need to heed - that growth is messy and frustruating and time consuming .... says me - a person who is fond of Cliffs Notes ... or maybe it the precious attentativeness in your dog's eyes ... or the sheer joy of Logan celebrating his success. Another thought is that Logan IS celebrating in the moment and not waiting to celebrate until he can perfectly pick up a spoon, collect a "correct-sized" portion and deliver it to his mouth without any escaping to his bib or the floor. Perfection does not equal success!
Absolutely the hardest part of parenting is standing back and letting things happen.