You know that classic scene from Cinderella where she’s bustling about the kitchen as a chorus of bells ring endlessly, summoning her to meet the demands of those around her? My mornings often resemble that chaotic scenario, but instead of bells, I have a lively entourage of four kids—two 3-year-olds, a 5-year-old, a 6-year-old, and an 8-year-old—who follow me around, ensuring I can’t escape their persistent calls for help.
“Mama!” whines the 5-year-old, his voice reaching new heights of exasperation. “I can’t find my shoes!” Mind you, he hasn’t even left his bed, and I suspect “looking” to him means a cursory glance instead of a genuine search. He tripped over those very shoes earlier but still hasn’t grasped their whereabouts.
His plea is quickly followed by one of the twins declaring, “Mama, my brudder pushed me down the stairs!” If only I had a time machine. The other twin chimes in, “Mama, I’m firsty! I need milk!”—repeating it like a mantra, completely disregarding the fact that his milk is already waiting for him on the table.
“Where’s my blue folder?” the 8-year-old chimes in, ignoring the obvious fact that it’s right in the spot designated for it. And then there’s the 6-year-old, who often exclaims, “Oh! I forgot (fill in the blank),” whether it’s about his VIP student responsibilities or that he hasn’t finished his book club assignment.
“Get me a drink! I’m hungry! Where’s my library book? Please hold me! Help me! I’m cold! I need my vitamins!” These demands never seem to end. Sometimes, I feel like Cinderella—only I’m not a princess in a fairy tale; I’m Cinder-Mama, caught in a whirlwind of requests.
Motherhood is undeniably demanding. It’s instinctual for a mother to want to fulfill her children’s needs immediately. However, I quickly learned that if I tried to meet every single demand right away, I’d be driven to the brink of insanity. For instance, one child may need help tying shoes, while another wants assistance pouring milk from a new gallon, and I can’t be in two places at once. I had to come to terms with the fact that some needs would have to wait.
After a moment of reflection, I realized it was okay not to respond to every request the moment it was made. It was crucial for my kids to learn independence and wait their turn. This is where growth happens—they began tying their own shoes, pouring their own milk, and taking responsibility for their belongings. They are starting to understand that “Mama” is not synonymous with “servant,” but rather, I am here to teach them how to navigate the world.
Of course, there are still mornings when it feels like chaos reigns supreme, and the bells are once again ringing around my ankles. Yet, with each passing day, my children are learning to manage on their own, even if they occasionally forget that I’m not just here to serve them.
In summary, while motherhood can feel like servitude at times, it’s essential to recognize the importance of teaching our children independence. They are capable of more than they realize, and by allowing them to take on responsibilities, we are preparing them for the future.
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