The “Still a Baby” Trap

Independence doesn’t magically appear at 18 if you’ve spent 13 years fastening their Velcro ... and when they load the dishwasher, don’t rearrange it afterward like a neurotic Tetris player. 

Mistake: Treating tweens like fragile toddlers instead of emerging young adults.
Confusion: “Sure, he’s old enough for Snapchat, but clearly too young to butter toast.”
Reality check: Independence is learned — and if we don’t let them practice, they won’t pass the test.

Tweens are... well tweens. They can run a group chat, edit videos, and Google their way through a math worksheet — but sometimes, making a sandwich or vacuuming thir room is “too hard.” Let's look at how some parents accidentally turn capable tweens into part-time toddlers, and how to hand the reins back without starting a household revolution.

THE ISSUE

Tweens are confusing creatures. One minute they’re slamming doors and demanding privacy like they’re prepping for law school finals; the next, they’re asking you to cut their pancakes into bite-sized squares because “it’s easier.”

And as parents, it’s tempting to indulge the second part. After all, wasn’t it just yesterday they were wobbling around in dinosaur pajamas, begging you to tie their shoes? It’s bittersweet watching them move into independence — which is why some parents subtly (or not so subtly) slow the process down.

You pack their lunches when they’re perfectly capable of slapping together a PB&J. You double-check their backpacks every morning to make sure the homework actually made it in. You hover at the school drop-off line to ensure they’ve zipped their coat.

It feels like love. It feels like care. But here’s the sneaky truth: every time you do something for them that they can do for themselves, you’re not just protecting them from minor inconvenience — you’re delaying their crash course in independence.

WHY PARENTS DO THIS

Let’s be honest: the “Still a Baby” trap can be deliciously comforting.

• Nostalgia. You’re clinging to the little kid years. Letting go of lunchboxes and shoelaces feels like admitting they’re no longer your squishy kids.

• Control disguised as care. When you pack their bag, you know it’s done “right.” If you let them, there’s a 50% chance the sandwich ends up under their math book and the permission slip never gets signed.

• Efficiency. You’re already running late, and watching a tween spread peanut butter with the deliberation of a monk copying manuscripts is painful. It’s faster to just do it yourself.

• Fear of failure. If you let them try and they mess up, they’ll suffer consequences — forgotten gym shoes, missed lunches, late homework. And no parent wants to watch their kid struggle when they could prevent it in 20 seconds.

• The mixed signals of tweenhood. Tweens play both sides expertly. They roll their eyes at bedtime like they’re 35 but happily accept you tying their sneakers like they’re 5. At age 11, kids can program a smartphone but somehow “forget” how to load a dishwasher. It’s no wonder parents get confused.

So we sometimes hover, “help,” and manage — and then wonder why tweens act helpless in      situations where they’re completely capable. It’s the paradox of modern parenting: the safer, more convenient, and more resource-rich life has become, the less we expect of our kids.

HOW THIS HARMS CHILDREN (AND US)

On the surface, it feels harmless — even loving. But the long-term impact of the “Still a Baby” trap can include:

• Learned helplessness. If you always swoop in, they start to believe they can’t do things themselves. Why try if someone else will fix it?

• Delayed responsibility. Independence is like a muscle. If they don’t practice it now in small, low-stakes ways, they’ll struggle when the stakes get higher (like high school deadlines or their first job).

• Fragile self-esteem. They don’t just learn, “Mom makes my lunch.” They internalize, “Maybe I can’t make my lunch.” That message, repeated, chips away at confidence.

• Resentment later. Tweens might accept the help now, but by teen years, the same behavior can feel suffocating. What they once saw as love turns into micromanagement.

• Missed resilience lessons. Forgetting a lunch once is uncomfortable. But that sting teaches responsibility in ways a lifetime of perfectly packed sandwiches never can.

• Parent burnout. Let’s not forget you. Managing every shoelace, snack, and pencil takes      time and energy you could spend on… literally anything else.