sit back and stop talking.
they need to figure out how to put this puzzle together without your form looming over their unsure shoulders. they want to try this alone, work it out in their head with their mouths pursed and pushed off to the left of their faces. they want their curious and driven brain to push and turn the pieces into one empty shape or another over and over. they want to take their time and think it through, the process you explained and showed to them for so many years. let them try.
let their neurons shoot off firework sized sparks of intense joy and accomplishment when everything finally, quietly clicks into place because you sat back beside them, behind them or in front of them and let them use the resources you provided the way they needed to to make all of those pieces, out of order and confused, make sense to them. alone.
you held their hands for so long and explained to them which colors and sizes to look for, how to divide all of those tiny and intimidating pieces in order to conquer the whole. and they listened. they listened to you and watched you and let the words and ideas sink into their skin right down to their bones until it was time to try it alone.
and you sat back and stopped talking and let them grow up beside you, in front of you. alone.