Latch, Laugh, and Repeat

People often say to me, “You’re so calm. I don’t know how you do it.” And usually, I just smile and say, “I give her space to do her thing.”

To me, being a laid-back parent doesn’t mean I’m disengaged—it means I’m deeply tuned in. I know my daughter. I know how she reacts when she’s scared, excited, overstimulated, or tired. I know when she’s about to fall because her brain is moving faster than her legs. I know the difference between when she needs help and when she needs to figure it out on her own.

At 14 months, she plays with our two massive dogs—Otis, who weighs 76 pounds, and Mooch, who’s tipping the scale at 120+. She gets knocked down at least three times a day. She gets up just as fast. I know how much she can handle. I know when to step in, and when to let her sort through it herself.

I parent from observation. From trust. From knowing her.
So yeah—I’m laid-back.
But I’m far from checked out.

Let Them Lead—Even If It’s Hard

The hardest part? Not jumping in.
Trust me—I want to.

But something powerful happens when you just… sit.
Be quiet.
Don’t ask anything. Just watch your kid for a second. Let them be.

See what they do. How they move, what they gravitate toward. If they come to you, be curious. Especially in the early “almost-words” phase, it takes so much patience to figure out what they’re trying to say. But the more you give them space—and your full attention—the more they’ll show you exactly who they are.

Follow them. Let them lead.

Teach simply. Teach names. Teach sounds. Teach life. Just name everything.
And wait—because one day, it clicks.
They start communicating. They start feeling smart, important, heard, seen.
And that’s when the independence shows up.

Trust them.
Trust that they’ll figure it out.
Trust that when they don’t, they’ll come straight to you.
And you get to be the one who teaches them how to try again, how to handle frustration, how to walk into the next challenge a little braver than before.

You don’t have to be “on” all day long. You don’t have to narrate every moment or over-correct every behavior. You just have to stay close, be present, and trust that your calm is creating their confidence.

If I could give one big piece of advice? Follow their lead.

They’re not wired to focus on one thing forever.
When they lose interest—switch it up. Change rooms. Go outside. Shift the energy.

And include them in your life.
Let them help with chores. Take them on errands. Bring them to dinners and events.
Normalize real life—not just “kid zones.”

We’re not raising iPad kids over here.
We’re raising dirt-under-the-toenails, out-the-door-by-7am, full-sensory, wild-hearted humans.
(Looking at you, baby girl.)

Being Laid-Back Taught Me to Trust Myself

Parenting this way has taught me that calm doesn’t mean passive—it means confident. I don’t have to hover to be present. I don’t have to control everything to be a good mom. I just have to know my kid and trust that she knows I’m right here when she needs me.

I’ve learned to stay curious instead of reactive, patient instead of performative. And what’s wild is—it’s actually made me enjoy motherhood even more.

I don’t need to do it like everyone else. And neither do you.

So if you’re the mom who sits back and watches before stepping in—you’re not lazy.
If you’re the mom who lets her kid get dirty, take risks, and figure it out—you’re not careless.
You’re just paying attention in your own way. And that matters. You don’t have to perform parenthood to prove you’re doing it right.
You just have to know your child, trust your instincts, and tune out the noise.