Megan tends to be slow in the morning. And by slow, I mean 9 times out of 10 we end up arguing in the morning about 1) Why she isn't dressed yet 2) Why she hasn't combed her hair or brushed her teeth yet 3) When she is going to pick out her outfit to wear 4) What is wrong with the outfit she's actually picked (I think she has a bit of Punky Brewster in her) 5) What she wants for breakfast 6) Why she's not done eating her breakfast 7) Where her shoes are located 8) Why she needs to wear a coat and most recently 9) Why she can't wear shorts to school yet. Whew.
I'm not sure what happened yesterday but I believe we may have been in a parallel universe. She came in dressed (appropriately), hair combed, teeth brushed, knowing what she wanted for breakfast and I have to be honest, I wasn't sure what to do with that situation. Never in all of her 6 years have we ever had a morning like that. I commented that I couldn't believe she was ready so early. She stood there for a moment, put her hands on her hips and gave herself a once over glance in the mirror. She then turned to me and said, "Yeah, I know! It kind of seems like I'm 7 already doesn't it?"
This morning was a tad bit different. In an attempt to recreate the serene situation from yesterday morning, I made her exactly the same breakfast (French toast popped in the toaster. Oh yeah, I know what you are thinking- Mother-of-the-year! A hot nutritious frozen breakfast. MMmmmm mmm.) Megan came down, looked at the breakfast and said, "You are feeding me toasted bread with butter and syrup? What kind of mother are you?"