Last night, P worked overtime for the department on his day off. He was out from 8pm to 4am this morning. So, he'll be in bed until 11:30am when he has to get up to go with us to Puppy School for Arley.
This morning, I had to leave the house at 6:30am. My Mother-in-law had to be at the airport for an 8:30am flight so that she can get back to San Francisco for work.
On a typical weekend, Z wakes up around 7:30am. (Not that I can rouse him easily that early on the weekdays, when I actually want him up that early!) I was, of course, hoping that he would sleep a little later than that today for two reasons: (1) he went to bed late (for him) last night -- around 9:45pm, and (2) the two reasons listed above -- I was gone, and P was down for the count.
I didn't want to wake him and take him, because he won't get a nap before our 12:30pm Puppy School, and he has a hard enough time most days when he does get plenty of sleep...
But, as we all know, you can hope in one hand and...well, you know.
So, I get home (after a quick run by Whataburger for some taquitos for breakfast) to see just how independent my nearly-four-year-old has truly become.
I came in the front door to find him standing at the coffee table with a box of cereal, bag out.
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| The culprit, with his bounty. |
Now, you may be wondering, "Why such a fuss about a box of cereal?" Well, we keep our cereal on top of the refrigerator.
So I ask him, "Did Daddy help you get that down?" (Granted, I know that P is still in bed...I know because though the door is open to our bedroom, it is dark and I hear snoring...)
"No, I did."
"How did you do that?" I don't really want to know the answer, though!
"I got a chair, from the table...a big chair." That's what I was afraid of!
So, I go into the kitchen, and sure enough...
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| The scene of the crime. |
There is the chair, and two of three boxes of cereal are pulled down. Holy. Hell.
He then informs me that he had to have a chair because his "little feet and little legs" are too small to get up on the counter by themselves. The chair helped make him "bigger, like Daddy" and he was able to reach both "special" cereals. (That's the ones with the sugar in them, haha.)
He had already poured himself a small bowl of the Cinnamon Crunch and was now, I suppose, going to add some Frosted Flakes to the mix. He even had a small glass of water. (At least he didn't get into the fridge to try to get juice or milk!!)
Of course, the bowl and the glass are in the cabinets, on the OTHER side of the kitchen, so he had a multi-step plan all worked out! I didn't know he knew where we kept everything, let alone had the presence of mind to do it all for himself!
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| Enjoying the fruits of his labor. |
I asked him why he didn't have Daddy help him, and his answer was so sweet beyond his years: he said he went into the bedroom and Daddy was "sleeping so hard and so good" that he didn't want to wake him up. So, he just decided that he was "a big boy now...big enough to do it" for himself. He was so proud!
{{But, have no fear, we did have the talk about climbing on the counter and the chairs as well as getting glass down from the cabinets alone. He got kind of sad, which broke my heart, because I think he thought he was in trouble. I let him know how impressed I was that he was so big now, but that I was afraid of something happening...like if he fell...and he got hurt. I'm hoping that, despite the fact that he now knows he can get it by himself, he knows that he really shouldn't again.}}
I guess I'm going to have to bungee the chairs to the table when I go to bed at night, just to be safe...
Or maybe, just leave breakfast out for him...maybe that would be easier! =)
'Til next time,
Peace, love, and independence!
♥ S.
