Don’t Cry Over Spilled Milk—Celebrate It

As a mom of three and a children’s book author, I get asked about parenting all the time. People assume I’ve got it all figured out because I write for kids. I definitely don’t. My kids aren’t perfect. Neither am I. And if I’m being honest, the teenage years brought a gigantic learning curve — for all of us. There were tough conversations, growing pains, and moments I wanted to hit rewind. But through it all, I’ve learned that some of the most valuable lessons come from the mess.

That brings me to what I call The Sippy Cup Theory.

I still remember the day I knocked over what I swore was the biggest glass of chocolate milk in the world. We were at a restaurant, and it went everywhere — across the white tablecloth, dripping off the edge of the table, soaking everything. I was mortified. But you know what? I don’t remember ever spilling chocolate milk again. And I had many more after that. Whether I got better or just more aware, that spill taught me something important: most people have been around kids before — they understand messes. And sometimes, you only need to mess up once to learn the lesson.

Today, kids rarely get the opportunity to spill. We hand them sippy cups — no spills, no fuss, no growth. Sure, they’re practical. But what are we giving up for the sake of convenience?

The Real Cost of Convenience

According to child development experts, early childhood is the most critical time to build confidence, resilience, and motor skills — and those lessons often come from trying, failing, and trying again. Dr. Angela Duckworth, author of Grit, emphasizes that perseverance is formed through challenge, not ease. Kids don’t build confidence from avoiding mistakes. They build it from recovering.

And yet, parenting today feels more overwhelming than ever. In a recent Pew Research study, 80% of parents say it’s harder to raise kids now than it was two decades ago. Between technology, pressure to be perfect, and the constant barrage of conflicting advice, it’s no wonder we reach for shortcuts: tablets instead of books, screen time instead of story time, and sippy cups instead of learning how to balance a real glass.

But what seems easier now can actually make things harder later. I learned that the hard way.

Do the Hard Thing Now

During the toddler years — and especially during those tricky teen ones — I often did what made life smoother in the moment. I made things easier for me. But later, those shortcuts revealed themselves as longer-term setbacks. The phrase “do the hard part now” hits home more than ever. It’s the hard parts that shape our kids — and shape us, too.

We want to raise strong, independent, kind, and resilient humans. That doesn’t happen in perfectly padded spaces. It happens when we let them take risks, get frustrated, make mistakes… and learn how to clean them up.

It’s the Details That Are Love

The most powerful parenting moments come from the smallest, messiest places: sitting on the floor and reading a book when it’s easier to hand over a screen. Letting your toddler drink from a real cup, even if it means wiping up five spills in a row. Choosing to engage rather than distract.

Because those little choices? That’s where love lives. Love is in the details — the daily, imperfect efforts that show our kids they matter. Not because we protected them from everything, but because we trusted them to grow through it.

Leave It Better Than You Found It

That’s something I try to live by and teach my kids: leave people, places, and things better than you found them. That applies to friendships, to schoolwork, to life — and yes, even to chocolate milk spills.

So to every parent out there second-guessing, feeling overwhelmed, or wondering if they’re doing it “right”: I see you. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be present. Let them spill. Let them grow. Let yourself off the hook, too.

Because while it might have started with a sippy cup, it doesn’t have to end there.

So grab a real glass — filled with chocolate milk, coffee, or maybe something stronger — and raise it to the mess, the magic, and the beautiful imperfection of parenting.

Spill a little. Laugh a lot.

And celebrate yourself for showing up.