Four year olds doing it for themselves

Baking bread- no problem

About a year and a half ago, my son Mendel turned three. At that moment, he apparently entered the independent stage. Ever since, he has insisted he wants to do everything himself. He wants to climb in and out of the car seat, pour juice, put on his clothes, and work the DVD player. If I actually do something before he has the chance, he becomes upset with me and says very mean things. Apparently, independence and snippiness go hand in hand.

This morning he woke up, took off his jammies and underwear, and showed up downstairs. “Would you like a leaf?” I wanted to ask, but considering his age, I decided against it. Instead I just said hello, wondering what would be next.
“I need some clothes,” he said.
“You think?”
“Yes.” And he turned around and marched back up the stairs. It was assumed I would follow and clean up after him. Funny how the one thing I’d like him to learn to do himself, which is picking up his dirty laundry and putting it in the hamper, he has no interest in.

I’ve read books that explain how, when children start showing more independence, it’s okay to be a little sad, after all it’s another step in their road to growing up and becoming their own person. Someday they’ll leave you, blah-blah-blah. I don’t find it sad at all; I mostly find it irritating. Everything takes twice as long when four-year-olds do things themselves. Also, they cheat; they say they want to climb into their car seats, but they just use it as an excuse to quickly crawl into the back of your SUV so you can’t get to them. When you finally stop yelling and walk around to open the backdoor, they crawl back, so you end up doing this funny and desperate run-around-the-car thing, knowing all your neighbors are laughing at you because their children are grown and they don’t have to deal with this nonsense.

I know this won’t last forever; I’ve heard from other, more experienced, parents that teenagers can’t do anything of their own accord except pouting and arguing (and going to the bathroom, I hope). I guess I should attempt to enjoy this phase more; after all, he is still relatively small and cute. Especially when he takes a pause from yelling “NO!” at the top of his lungs. His independence also means he speaks more in full sentences, and he is no longer afraid of the dinosaur puppet I bought for him eight months ago. Oh, and these days, he spills his dinner only about 40% of the time. I’m counting my blessings.