The Joy of Independence!

Mommy Proof #14: Independence is bittersweet!

I remember the first time I slept in on a Saturday morning. It was the summer of 2011. I was around one million months pregnant and in the stage of endless slumber. I could literally sleep for 20 out of 24 hours during the day. I still would wake drowsy, heavy, and unrefreshed. The sun was out and bright which was unusual for our home. A typical morning is started with the roosters and break of dawn. As I blinked hard against the rays pouring through my curtains, I realized that the kids had not roused me from my slumber with demands of "Milk, chocolate milk", "Poptarts and grapes" (my son has had one each morning for the past two years :-/ ), or "Just toast for now."

I jumped out of bed...well more like rolled slowly onto my right side, then shimmied my body until I felt the edge of my bed on my back, slid down until my swollen feet hit the ground, stood there with uneasiness and my hands held out for balance....whatever. I waddled into the kitchen and was met with three empty bowls, three empty cups, and a couple of banana peels on the table. There was a small puddle of milk under one of the cups. The spill had obviously been worse than that judging by the fifteen or so soggy paper towels that had taken up residence nearby. The mess didn't strike me as much as the eerie silence that rarely existed in our home. I, then, heard a group of quiet giggles followed by shushing. A whispered voice reminded her younger siblings, "Mommy's sleeping, shhhhhhh!" I was awarded a few moments of sleep by my third-in-command oldest child.

All three of them turned as I came into the room and announced what they had done that morning. "...Breakfast!" "I helped!" "Milk!" In true Three Stooges mode, they started pushing and shushing each other, because someone interrupted them. They were still talking and blah, blah, blah. Independence is an awesome concept. The problem is that the oldest child inevitably comes into the independence stage first. In the beginning, it is met with excitement and awe by the younger siblings. Fast forward to the summer of 2012, the baby and I were both awakened by the squeals of protest and mutiny. The younger two had discovered their new found independence. Instead of starting the day with breakfast requests, I started the day with referee duties. Yay?