Yesterday, something small happened in our living room that taught me a huge parenting lesson. My son’s favorite green recycling truck broke.
It wasn’t a major break—the white cabin roof popped right off with a loud snap—but to him, it was a disaster. He stood there, holding the broken piece in one hand and staring at the truck in the other. Then he looked up at me with those big eyes that clearly said, “Dad, please fix this.”
I wanted to help him right away. Every parent does. But instead, I did something harder. I let him try to fix it himself.
The Breakdown
When the roof first snapped off, my instinct was to grab it. You can see in the photo how he’s holding the pieces—he looked totally confused. He tried jamming the white cabin onto the back of the green dumper, which obviously wouldn’t fit.
This is where most of us (me included) usually fail. We say, “No, not like that,” and do it for them. But looking at his concentration, I realized I had to sit back. I literally sat on my hands to stop myself from reaching out. I knew if I fixed it for him, I would steal his chance to learn.
Guiding Without Doing
He spent a good five minutes trying to force the white cabin piece down. As you can see here, he was trying to line up the plastic hinges, but he didn’t have the angle right yet.
I didn’t walk away; I sat close by so he knew I was there. But instead of saying “turn it left,” I just asked questions based on what I saw him doing:
- “Does the white part go on the black wheels or the green box?”
- “Is it clicking yet?”
- “What happens if you turn it around?”
He got frustrated. He groaned. But he didn’t stop. He was testing angles, rotating the piece, and using his thumbs to press down—skills he never would have used if I had just clicked it back on for him.
The “Click” of Victory
After about ten minutes of struggling, I heard it. Click.
The roof snapped back into place. My son froze. He pulled on it gently to test it. It stayed put. Then his whole face lit up.
Look at his face in this picture. That isn’t the face of a kid who was given a new toy; it’s the face of a kid who built a toy. That thumbs-up wasn’t for me—it was for himself. He owned that victory. And that feeling? You can’t buy that in any store.
5 Ways We Build Problem-Solving Skills (Beyond the Truck)
Since that moment with the truck, I’ve realized that teaching resilience isn’t about setting up big lessons. It’s about catching these small, annoying moments when things go wrong and using them.
If you want to try this at home, here is exactly how we are handling “toddler frustrations” now:
1. The “10-Second Pause” Rule
When the truck broke, my body physically wanted to lunge forward and fix it. That is the “Parent Savior” instinct. Now, when something spills, breaks, or gets stuck, I force myself to count to ten before I move.
Why it works: Usually, in those ten seconds, my son moves from “shock” to “trying.” If I intervene at second #2, I interrupt his thought process. Give them space to process the disaster before you rescue them.
2. Ask “dumb” questions
I used to give answers (“Turn it left!”). Now, I play dumb. If a puzzle piece doesn’t fit, I don’t say “That’s a corner piece.” I say: “Hmm, that looks weird. Why is it sticking up like that?” This forces him to look at the problem, analyze it, and articulate an answer. It turns him from a passive listener into an active detective.
3. Normalize the struggle (and the noise)
Let’s be honest: listening to a toddler whine because a block tower fell over is annoying. It is tempting to fix the tower just to stop the noise. But I’ve learned to narrate his feelings back to him: “I know, it’s so frustrating when it falls! You worked hard on that.” Validating the anger helps him calm down faster than fixing the tower ever did. Once he is calm, he usually starts building again.
4. “Hand-Over-Hand” as a last resort
Sometimes, the problem is physically too hard (like a stiff lid or a heavy object). If he has tried and genuinely can’t do it, I don’t take it away. I use “hand-over-hand.” I put my hand over his hand, and we do it together.
The difference: He still feels the motion. He still feels the “click” or the “pop.” Physically, his brain registers that he participated in the solution, rather than watching a magic trick performed by Dad.
5. Celebrate the Effort, Not the Result
Notice in the photo above, I didn’t say “Good job fixing it!” I said, “Wow, you kept trying even when it was hard! You figured out how those hinges worked.” If we only praise them when they succeed, they get scared of failing. If we praise them for struggling, they become fearless.
Best Toys for Teaching Problem Solving
You don’t need expensive “STEM” toys to teach this. Actually, I’ve found that the simpler the toy, the better the problem-solving.
- Old-School Blocks: No instructions, no batteries. If it falls, it’s physics.
- Trucks with Moving Parts: Like the recycling truck in the photos. Hinges, latches, and dumping mechanisms eventually get stuck or pop off. These are opportunities, not defects!
- Puzzles: Start with the chunky wooden ones and move to floor puzzles.
- Cardboard Boxes: Seriously. Give them a box and some tape. “How do we close this?” is a better engineering lesson than most iPad games.
Final Thoughts: The Gift of Struggle
As parents, we want to protect our children from frustration. We want to make everything easy and smooth. But sometimes, the best gift we can give them is the chance to struggle a little bit.
My son played with that recycling truck for the rest of the day, but something was different. He was more careful with it. He treated it gently, almost like he respected it more now that he’d fixed it himself.
So next time a toy breaks, take a deep breath. Count to ten. And ask your child, “Can you try to fix it?” You might be surprised by what they can do when you give them the chance. One broken toy at a time.
