A Spooky Cautionary Tale: A Lesson in Letting Go of Control

As Halloween approaches, and I see all the cute crafts and activities parents are doing with their kids to celebrate the season, I’m reminded of a major misstep I had in my own attempt at creativity with my boys. Hopefully, it can serve as a cautionary tale for you this spooky season.

Last Halloween, I decided to make a festive sensory bin for my two boys. I was excited—really excited. I filled a large container with dried corn kernels, added a few little pumpkins, scoops, plastic skulls, black cats, and Halloween-themed cups. It was Pinterest-worthy, and I had visions of my kids scooping, pouring, giggling, and fully immersing themselves in open-ended, sensory-rich play.

But that’s not what happened.

Instead, I hovered.

From the moment they dipped their tiny hands into the corn, I was right there with a barrage of reminders:

“Be careful, pour OVER the bin.”
“Keep it in the bin, okay?”
“Oh! Watch out—corn is going everywhere!”

I micromanaged the mess out of that bin—literally. Within minutes, the joy disappeared from their faces. My older son stopped playing altogether. My younger one gave it a few more tries but quickly grew frustrated. The magical sensory experience I had planned turned into a chore.

And the bin? Sat untouched for the rest of the week.

When Rules Stifle Instead of Support

That moment stuck with me. As I sat there, watching them walk away, I realized I had taken the play out of the bin. Not intentionally, of course. My need to control the mess had created invisible boundaries around their experience. What was supposed to be free and exploratory had turned into a performance to keep Mom happy.

This experience reminded me of something I often say to the parents I work with:

We can ask ourselves: Are our rules helping our children flourish—or are they stifling their creativity and confidence?

It’s so easy to fall into the trap of over-managing play, especially with toddlers. The mess feels overwhelming. The chaos feels… chaotic. And if you’re someone who values calm and order (raises hand), it can be really hard to let go.

But play—real play—is inherently messy. It’s experimental, boundary-pushing, and unpredictable. And it’s through that kind of play that children build creativity, resilience, and independent thinking.

What I’d Do Differently (And You Can, Too)

Here’s how I’ve shifted my approach since the Great Corn Kernel Crisis of Halloween 2024:

1. Set Up for the Mess, Not Against It
   Instead of creating rules that suppress mess, I try to plan for it. I lay down a blanket or towel underneath sensory bins, or take messy play outside. That way, my kids can explore freely, and I can breathe easier. It’s okay that I value cleanliness, but if I want my kids to explore, I need to find ways to encourage it that don’t send my nervous system into panic.

2. Use Simple “Freedom Within Limits” Language
   Rather than micromanaging every movement, I set one or two clear boundaries ahead of time. For example: “The corn stays in this area. If it starts going everywhere, we’ll take a break and try again later.” Then I step back—and trust them to rise to the occasion. I also include them in the clean-up process, but make it fun. It’s not penal for making the mess, but we can all work together to clean up after ourselves. I help them clean up so they don’t feel overwhelmed or unsupported.

3. Notice the Urge to Hover—and Sit on My Hands
   Seriously. Sometimes I have to physically sit on my hands or occupy myself nearby so I don’t intervene unless truly needed. Observing quietly often reveals how capable and creative our kids are when we give them the space.

4. Reflect on the Why Behind the Rules
   I ask myself: “Is this rule here to protect, guide, or support my child’s growth—or to ease my own discomfort?” When it’s the latter, I try to find a compromise that doesn’t limit their experience.

Give Yourself Grace

If you’ve ever done what I did—over-managed your child’s play out of fear of a mess—you’re in good company. We all do it. The key is to notice it, learn from it, and try again tomorrow.

Our kids don’t need perfect parents. They need present, reflective ones. The kind who are willing to say, “Oops, I overdid it,” and then reimagine a better way forward.

This Halloween, as you set up your own sensory bins or creative activities, I invite you to ask yourself:

What would this look like if I gave my child more freedom and trusted the process—mess and all?

You might be surprised by how much more joyful, connected, and creative the experience becomes—for both of you.

Have you ever micromanaged an activity to the point of no fun? Share your story in the comments—I’d love to hear how you’re learning to let go, too.