This morning I came downstairs just after 8:00 to be greeted by a little girl, a big smile, a "good morning, Mommy," and a scribble on a piece of paper. She's been getting out of bed by herself in the morning, but usually to say "get up, Daddy" in a half whisper right in his face (how did I know the side of the bed farthest from the door would be the right one to choose?!). Once she came downstairs and turned on the TV by herself, but the Roku was set on Steve's tech channel so she came up to ask for help finding Mr Rodgers, Little Bear, Mickey, or Dora, whichever it was that morning. But I think this is the first time she'd come downstairs and drawn a picture. Who knows how long she was down here. (And I don't even care since both Steve and I got to sleep in!)
This evening, I was upstairs giving the twins a bath and had asked Steve to put a new trash bag in their diaper pail. He had forgotten to bring one up, and I was asking him about it again. Next thing we know, a little girl is coming back up the stairs with a white drawstring Costco trash bag in her hands. She had simply overheard us and been the "helper" that she really is so good at being. I think she may have Steve's gift of service. I told her that was "initiative," so maybe she'll greet me tomorrow morning with a new vocabulary word...and have dusted and vacuumed the house! Or not. Maybe in a few years.
