As I lie in bed, I hear the kitchen stool being scooted around to various cupboards. My 4 year old just got the bowl from the bottom shelf, the cereal from the pantry, poured the cereal into her bowl (it sounds like only a few pieces hit the floor, fingers crossed), retrieved her spoon from the drawer, and found the milk in the bottom shelf of the fridge.
My 4 year old just made herself breakfast. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.
So why, then, am I almost in tears? I’m feeling like a failure of a mother because my 4-year old doesn’t have a GOOD mama that makes a gourmet breakfast for her each day. I have failed her by not doing my “mom duties.” Or, perhaps, I have spent years doing my “mom duties” and building her up to feel like she TOO can do these jobs.
I am no longer needed in all areas of her life. BUT, I am here to celebrate her independent successes, no matter how small they may seem.