The bus comes for daughter around 7:30 a.m. For two years I would wake her up at 6 a.m. and then nag the entire time, "GO FAST! GO FAST!" Then the light bulb went off, and now I set her alarm for 5:30 a.m. and by the time she comes down at 6 a.m. we're all on the same, leisurely pace.
This morning at 6 a.m., there was no light on in the kitchen to signal daughter was awake and eating breakfast. I panicked and yelled, "Daughter! Where are you?"
"Right here Mama," she called from the kitchen.
I ran into the dark kitchen. She flipped on the light. "Where were you doing?" I asked.
"Playing." And after a few more questions I learned she had planned to eat breakfast by flashlight that morning.
One morning I walked by and her breakfast was a piece of toast, and 2 super-sized marshmallows. I should say, "attempted" breakfast because I nixed that idea immediately. Another day she was getting out the peanut butter so she could dip some of husband's trail mix into the peanut butter, to eat along with her toast. For her bag lunch one day she made herself a peanut butter and mustard sandwich. I was skeptical she would actually like it, and made her a half-sandwich and asked her to eat it. She did, and authentically liked it.
Her creativity is so wonderful, yet so... odd. Oh well - I was the child that ate mayonnaise sandwiches (until my parents put the kibosh on that...)
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