When I came downstairs, breakfast was over and the boys were happily playing. The empty plates were on the table, sticky with syrup, and drops of apple juice were scattered about. James was just finishing an egg sandwich when he casually said "Colin made breakfast this morning."
"I heard them come down, but I was so tired and only half awake, that while I was still groggy on the couch, Colin got himself and Caleb breakfast."
I called Colin over and he crawled up into my lap, curling his little body in as he always does.
"You made breakfast this morning?" I queried.
"Yep. I pushed a chair over to the counter and got us plates (after moving the plastic bowls from the top of the stack) and then I found the pancakes in the fridge (leftover.) I got out he syrup and the apple juice and got down some cups. Then I poured the syrup and some apple juice for us, and got some forks and knives, and we had breakfast all by ourselves!"
I fought my usual urge to joke with him not to grow up so fast. Although a part of me wants him to stay little and mine forever, I am continually astonished by him as he is growing. I revel in the mantle of responsibility he takes on bit by bit, and I am gladdened as I watch him grow in independence. This is what mothering is all about.