My two-year-old is relatively independent. She can play alone, dress herself (mostly by herself), put on her socks and shoes, go potty almost by herself, feed herself, make choices, etc. As happy as I am that she's learning to be self-sufficient, it also breaks my heart.
When she was just an infant, she relied solely on her caretakers, primarily her father and me. We did everything for her; we changed her, bathed her, fed her, clothed her, decided her activities, even had to carry her for her to go somewhere - absolutely everything. Slowly but surely, she began to develop into this really short person. A mind of her own, abilities, increasing vocabulary.
I realized yesterday that I had hindered her in the past. I didn't try to let her dress herself. When she was learning to feed herself, I would simply take over if she was having difficulties. The more that I did things for her, the longer it took for her to become independent, even in small ways. While she was never developmentally delayed, she could have - and should have - worked more on some independent thinking.
This morning, as she was dressing herself, the moment felt extremely bittersweet. On one hand, I was so excited to see my little girl grow up, especially into what looks like a strong, independent woman later in life. On the other hand, it was sad to feel like she doesn't need me as much anymore. Obviously it's nothing compared to what will happen when she's a teenager, or when she starts her own family. I know from personal experience that she will always need her parents to some extent...but will need us much less. But it starts.
So for now, I will cherish each moment that she still needs me. Every night that I tuck her in bed, each book that I read to her, putting on her costume dress because it's made awkwardly. Each moment will be filed in my heart for a rainy day ...
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