Getting Demoted

It's already begun.

I thought that I would remain this somehow do-all, awe-inspiring, wonder-hero mother figure to the girls for at least a few years yet to come. At least until preadolescence.

It appears, however, that I'm already being lowered from the pedestal.

Yesterday, Livvy packed up a bag of Fruit Loops in a plastic baggie to take on our adventure to the toy library. We got home, went into the house, and a minor melt-down began. The Froot Loops could not be found. I suggested they may be in the van since that is the place where I had my last sighting of them. A few hours later, we headed back out to the van to go to pick up Camille from Kindergarten. I opened the van door, Livvy close behind me, and lo and behold, there, on the van floor---along with a stocking cap, a couple of crusty french fries, and a sticker without it's stickiness---was the beloved bag of sugary, fruity, vitamin-packed cereal. Livvy was overjoyed and exclaimed, "Mom, you were right. The Fruit Loops were in the van. Mom, you make such a great assistant."

To rub salt in the wound, Camille followed in suit this morning. As we prepared to step outside to wait for the morning bus, I opened the door and Camille descended out onto the porch, exclaiming, "Mom, you make such a great door holder!"

No "Mom, you are the most loving, creative, inspired woman I know." No "Mom, we are so thankful for all of the wonderful things you do for our family." No "Mom, you are our heroine."

Okay, okay. Two hours later, Camille did say, "Mommy, you are my best, best, BEST mommy ever, " and Livvy did tell me, "I love you with all my heart."

Maybe I'm not all of the way down from the pedestal quite yet. Maybe in the lives of 3 and 5-year-olds, assistants and door-holders are pretty cool things.