With Michael the Toddler, we have entered the stage of "I do it myself!"

He must climb into the car by himself, then into the carseat. Thankfully, he doesn’t insist on buckling himself into it.

This afternoon, I was ready to give him something else for lunch, when he spied the pot of leftover oatmeal from this morning on the stove. "Oatmeal!" he insisted. "I wan’ oatmeal!"

(Yes.)

So I warmed it up and started feeding it to him, but that only lasted about 3 bites, until the yearning for independence bit him. He wrestled the spoon from my hand and would not – would not let me help me, not let me scoop  for him (he sort of does it sideways), not let me guide his hand.

He did fairly well, with just a few clumps falling here and there.

He did, however, allow me to keep my cupped hand under his chin as he shoved his spoon dripping with oatmeal sideways into his mouth. He let me do that.

And that, I suppose, is what we can always do, no matter how old they get.

Let them go, let them do, but keep that hand open, ready to catch the mess, if needed.