and just like that, they're grown up
Last night Zeph refused to eat his dinner.
Naturally, he awoke with a growling belly in the wee hours. It was cold and the windows were still frosty. Doing anything to stall leaving the warmth of our bed, Dave and I suggested we read some stories or, you know, lie back down and GO TO SLEEP.
Zeph didn't go for it. We did.
In between our slumber we heard the moving of furniture, clanging of cutlery and slamming of pantry doors.
The golden light glowing from the kitchen was enough to make my feet hit the floor. Out of laziness, I walked to the french doors in our room and wiped the frost from the glass, making the perfect viewing spot.
I witnessed my first born baby boy methodically moving a chair to the pantry, where he selected the peanut butter before dragging the same chair to the cutlery draw. There he stood, spreading lashings onto fresh (okay, okay, not so fresh) bread.
Time was frozen. I was transfixed by the vision of my baby being totally self sufficient. Grown up and doing what he's watched us do a hundred times before.
I hope I never forget this vision of him, growing up right before my eyes. Changing by the second, acquiring new skills more quickly than he can put them into practice. He wipes his own bottom, fills his own cup with milk and puts his own pants on backwards each and every day.
slow down, sweet pea (but please do continue to make your own breakfast)
Do you remember the first time your kids made their own breakfast?