Milk and Independence

All of our kids seem to have an independence, or at least a confidence in themselves that I really love and admire. Generally, I am not the mother standing in the doorway trying to convince my child clinging to my leg that it will be okay. Or that he will have fun and I will be back to get him. Since General is a born extrovert, I assumed that was the reason for his bold independence.  But Edison couldn’t be farther from extroverted and he carries himself into new situations with a smile and no fear.

I’m not sure why this is.

I would love to tell you that I have some kind of magical parenting secret to share, but that’s just not the case. I don’t believe in magic, or secrets for that matter,   what I can tell you are a few things that might make a difference. We always have an open dialogue about where everyone is and where they are going next. I remind them that if I can’t come back and get them, I will send someone they trust.  On a practical note, I’ve taught them to speak up when they are hungry, need to use the restroom, and how to identify and use a water fountain.

This independence isn’t just for when we are separated from each other, but also when we are all home.  For example someone wants a snack and I’m planting my flower bed. Often that child, with permission, can get a snack for themselves and their siblings.

Now, before you get a picture of my son putting out plates, and kindly serve equal portion for all of his siblings at snack time, while I continue my project in domestic bliss outside, let me tell you about some of the drawbacks of having little independent thinkers running around.    (Also, snack time usually looks like one kid opening a box of granola bars and then leaving them down low enough for the rest of them to reach.)

Thor is two now.

Until recently, he still had a bottle before bed, he loved it, I loved it, it was a win-win situation. He would go lay down on his bed, look at a book, and drink his bottle. Yes, I know that’s bad for his teeth. Yes, I know it’s bad for him to be depending on something like a bottle. And yes, I know he needs to learn to self-sooth. However, it’s bad for my nerves when he screams for an hour. It’s bad for the rest of the kids when he keeps them up for an hour and it’s really bad for him to miss that hour of sleep.  The bottle made all of that better.

Well, he started wanting a refill at night.

We would be sitting in the living room after the kids went to bed and hear a very distinct “thud” as his bottle was tossed from his bedroom, over the gate and onto the wood floor of the hallway, and then he would call my name. Sometimes, if one of his brothers would leave the gate open behind them, he would come find one of us and hand us the empty bottle and say “milk?”. Sounds cute doesn’t it? It’s not.

One night, my husband was out helping a neighbor, and I put the kids down myself and did my nightly chores. Thinking everyone was down for the night, I decided I would go take a much-needed shower. As I was getting my shower ready, I heard that very specific “thud” of the bottle hitting the hallway floor and my little boy call my name. At this point, we were trying to get him to give up at least the refill, so I decided to ignore it and go ahead with my shower.

Two minutes into my shower, there was a knock on the bathroom door. Batman needed to tell me of an injustice that he had witnessed at recess that day. Why he needed to talk about it then I will never know, but after a few minutes of talking to me through a shower curtain, he was happy and went back to bed.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened again.  But I didn’t hear anyone…odd.   So I peaked around the curtain to see my two-year old standing there.    Obviously Batman had not closed the gate behind him.   Thor looked at me an went “ohhhhhh” then runs out of the room.       

At this point, I try to resign myself to the fact that my shower is not going to be a place of peace and relaxation tonight, and I should wash my hair and get out. Just then, the shower curtain flies open and Thor tosses his bottle on the shower floor.

 

“Mommy! Milk?”

 

I giggled a little and explained that I wasn’t in a position to get him more milk and he was going to have to wait. He turned and ran out of the room. I hoped that he was getting back on his bed, but it was more likely he was headed to play with his sister’s toys while she slept. Moments later, I heard a sound like someone bumping into the bathroom door. Then I heard it again, and the door open. I peeked around the curtain to see my baby dragging an almost full gallon of milk across the bathroom floor.

 

Oh. My. Word.

 

When he saw me, he stood upright and smiled proudly, pointed at the plastic container and said,

“Milk”!