She had just spent the morning at a noisy playdate, the afternoon in a tantrum over the wrong color cup, and now—finally—the apartment was quiet. The castle needed a roof. The dragons needed arranging. And Rissa needed Rissa. That third-person speech (“Rissa may stay”) isn't just cute. It’s developmental armor. Toddlers and young preschoolers use their own name because they are still merging the “me” they feel inside with the “Rissa” the world sees. When she says “Rissa may stay,” she is practicing autonomy. She is rehearsing the sentence: I am a person who gets to decide where I belong.
The Shifting Tides of Parenthood
And right now? She belongs with herself. We spend so much time trying to be chosen . The chosen parent for bedtime. The chosen lap for story time. We wear “daddy’s girl” like a medal. rissa may stay with me, daddy
But real attachment parenting—the kind that raises secure, brave humans—isn’t about being needed 24/7. It’s about creating a base so safe that they feel confident wandering away. She had just spent the morning at a