Independence Run Amok

My wife and I have officially been rendered useless, according to my eldest, Caylah.

It's surprising, really. I mean, she's only two, and, contrary to her own belief, cannot, in fact, drive our SUV. Nevertheless, the terrible twos have brought along a phrase that you'd think, according to the frequency with which she uses it, is as important to her as breathing.

"No, me"

Caylah, can Daddy help you with your shoes? No, me.
Caylah, do you want Mommy to buckle you into your car seat? No, me.

Caylah, how about Daddy lifts you out of this basket of poisonous rattlesnakes? No, me.

People who know much more about child development than I do will tell you (at least they've told me) that Caylah is at that age where she's beginning to figure out her individuality. Kids at her age are realizing that they have an opinion that could be different from Mommy and Daddy and are exercising their right to choose. So even though I know that emptying the dishwasher will take her for-EEEHHH-veerrr (hello, "Sandlot"), as she has to hand me

every

         single

                   dish

it's supposed to be important for me and Christina not to squelch that independence, but instead to encourage her to try things on her own.

And while I get that on one level, I've noticed there's a very thin line between independence and rebellion. While there are instances where Caylah truly wants to see if she can accomplish something on her own (like the girl is really lacking in self-confidence with yours truly already wrapped around her finger!), there are numerous times where the "No, me," seems to be coming from a place of pure obstinance. She's refusing moreso because she can than anything else.

But before I get too conflicted between dealing with her stubbornness and the fact that she's absolutely adorable (which she's already learned to use to her advantage), I can't help but think that this is nothing more than a ramification of the Fall. That original rebellion that Adam and Eve had against God laid the foundation for the reality of Caylah refusing to stay in her Time Out chair. Additionally, it laid the foundation for the blatant disobedience I have toward the Lord.

Chris, how about you give Me the worry that's consuming you right now? No, me.
Chris, can I help you figure out what your next step should be from here? No, me.
Chris, why don't you let Me be the focus of your marriage? No, me.

And just like we do with Caylah when she's blatantly disobeying, I can totally see times where the Lord has put me in Time Out. He did it to the Israelites, for 40 years, in fact (hmmm...I think I'll store that little tidbit away for when Caylah gets upset with me for grounding her for a week). There are times when my disobedience can only be dealt with by giving me time to "think about what I've done." But if I'm using that time wisely, I come out with a greater intimacy with the Lord, as I've come closer to understanding how much He loves me and how my disobedience was damaging that intimacy. Unfortunately, my memory resembles my two-year-old more often than I'd like to admit, as lessons are having to be repeated by my Abba over and over (and, yes, over) again. But I know that it's always done because He loves me, and the discipline is to draw me back to Him.

 Maybe THAT'S why Caylah always gives me that cutesy smile when I go and get her from Time Out...


How do you go about affirming independence, yet keeping that rebellion in check?