I’d been reading about how important agency is to toddlers, how so much of their lives is scheduled, determined, and decided for them. They crave their freedom, the ability to do what they want, to make decisions for themselves, like we all do.

I remember longing for my own freedom as a kid. I couldn’t wait to become an adult, to do whatever I wanted with no one to stop me.

Now, I’m the adult dealing with a small human determined to make her little life her own. To call her own shots. To make big girl decisions.

It tracks. I try to honor it. I try to give her little choices throughout the day, so she can get a taste of power.

I ask her what clothes she wants to wear, what bowl she prefers, what fruit she wants. She even picks her dinner.

But recently I took it just a little bit further.

I decided that as much as reasonably possible, I wasn’t going to make her do stuff.

I would show her how to do it, encourage it, model the behavior, but, within reason, I wouldn’t force it.

Part of it was that I was tired of the fighting, the power struggle between increasingly impatient mother and increasingly stubborn child. Part of it was that I empathized with her desire to not be bossed around all the time.

This decision didn’t apply to everything. There are, in fact, certain things that she just has to do -- wipe her bottom, put on her shoes, get ready for bed. But most things were optional.

And she’s been testing me.

Every night before we get ready for bed, we clean up her toys.

She has a lot of toys.
Too many toys.

They are scattered, sprinkled onto the foam rug, made up of a hundred little pieces. And we pick up each one.

It took weeks to come up with a cleaning routine that didn’t result in tears and tantrums.

I started by trying to be playful and silly, to make cleaning seem fun. This worked for a week, then she got over it.

Then I tried a different flavor of silly and that worked for another week before that got old too.

When I was desperate, I would threaten a time out and that mostly worked but then I felt like a bad parent. Most of our cleaning sessions took tears, raised voices, frustration, and the better part of an hour to complete.

I really wanted to do better.

Then finally, a strategy seemed to work and stick around for quite some time.

The idea was to get a toy to help us clean up all the other toys. Mine was the rhino, hers was different each time. Now, it wasn’t us cleaning, it was the rhino! And that was more fun.

I’d call out, “Ok, rhino, time to clean!” She would hold her toy animal up with a big grin and start picking things up. It worked great. But every once in an awhile she would just ... refuse.

“Ok, rhino, time to clean!”
“No, I don’t want to.”

Pause.

A fork appeared in the road.

Do you push it, animating the toy and emphasizing how much fun you two are having cleaning and that she should join in?

Do you use your stern mommy voice to show this is Serious Business and you expect participation in this required daily chore?

Or do you just ... let it go?

What would you do?

I let it go.

“Ok, you don’t have to clean. But mommy’s going to keep cleaning.”

And I took my rhino and kept picking up the magnetic tiles.

I hoped she would change her mind. I hoped that by giving her the choice and being a good example that she would decide to join me. But I was ready to do the cleaning alone if she didn’t.

Not a minute later, she declared, “Ok, I want to!” And started picking up toys.

And I think it was a test.

She wanted to know if she truly had a choice. Was cleaning really up to her? Did she get to decide? Did her opinion, her desire, her want matter?

Once she realized that, yes, she did have a choice, she decided that she didn’t mind helping after all and joined me. I proved that, in this case, what she wanted mattered, and she took that to heart.

It’s worked that way almost every time. Whether it’s cleaning, doing an activity, baking, she will declare that she doesn’t want to and then wait. I tell her she doesn’t have to and continue doing the task, and she almost always joins me.

Making these changes as a parent has changed the way I see my daughter. I used to see her as less than me, as an underdeveloped smaller human.

Now I see her as a whole person -- a person with big feelings, strong opinions, and the desire for freedom and autonomy.

She isn’t lesser because she’s younger and these changes reinforce that. I’m forced to approach her with respect and take her wants seriously, even in the many moments they feel ridiculous.

I’m so grateful for all the parenting books I’ve read these past few months that have helped me get to this point. I’ve learned so much and come so far. And best of all, I think it’s made my time with my daughter easier and more enjoyable.

So let me ask you, parent or not, what path would pick at the fork in the road?

What would you do?