Pancake Boy!

No, it's not a Pillsbury endorsement--just Truman learning to flip pancakes. He's watched me flip pancakes for years, scooting a chair into the kitchen and standing at my elbow. He's always liked counting the bubbles that appear in the middle of the batter circles, often paying much closer attention than I do. It wasn't uncommon for Truman to single-handedly save entire batches of pancakes from burned ruin by calling to me, "It's time to flip 'em Mom!"

When it came time to turn the pancake flipping over to him--handing him the spatula--I was suddenly paying extreme attention. I was worried about him getting burned on the pan. I was worried that his clothes would get too close to the open flame (we have gas burners). I hovered. I instructed. I was close enough to come to the rescue, if rescue was needed.

But Truman turned out to be a pro! With very few casualties (half-turned pancakes), the endeavor was a success. He poured. He waited. He flipped.

I always experience a mix of emotions when I see my children do "big kid" things. I'm proud of their accomplishments. Happy to see their excitement. But I'm also a bit frightened. Letting my children step into independence means letting go...just a little. And that is hard. So while I'm ready to hand over the spatula, I'm not at all ready to leave the kitchen. :-) I'll keep standing at his elbow. I'll be there if he needs me. And I'll keep eating his creations with a generous serving of warm maple syrup.