I believe in ‘Breakfast is Ready.’ I believe in the morning ritual that demands I get up a little earlier than my kids, but gives me a chance to start their day with a little tenderness. We hear a lot about the value of a nutritious breakfast, yet my ‘Breakfast is Ready’ belief has more to do with feeding their soul, than turning out a low-carb, low-fat, high-protein healthy breakfast. ‘Breakfast is Ready’ is a quiet time together, a moment before the hectic pace takes hold of us, a moment when they know I am there for them. It’s not high powered; we rarely talk; they usually look half asleep. People often react with surprise when they learn I make breakfast for my children each day; they are certainly old enough to fend for themselves. After all, isn’t it better to get them accustomed to taking responsibility for these simple things? Maybe. But, I also believe that making them breakfast is a privilege; one that I cherish. Sure there are days when I want to sleep in, not stumble out of bed and struggle to open my eyes enough to find the eggs. And heaven knows there are days when my breakfasts would fail the test of a healthy start for the day – chocolate chip pancakes are quite simply not nutritious. But isn’t a little nurturance really the healthiest way to start the day? Isn’t that chance to say – without a lot of words – ‘I love you’ the most important fuel we have to begin each day? That is what I believe. I believe in showing the people you love how much they mean to you. I believe in the little things that they will remember someday; maybe when they are in college and stumbling their way to a cafeteria for the fare of the day, or when they have kids of their own and they’re the ones serving up breakfast. I believe in simple kindnesses towards our children. I believe in taking moments out of my day to just do something nice for them. My son is almost 16, just about ready to drive, taller everyday. My daughter is 18, getting ready to go off to college. Some days her girlfriends used to drop in for pancakes before school. On her birthday, she asked me to make her French Toast before I went to work. I believe that was her gift to me. I believe – no, I know I will miss my mornings with them when they leave. I will miss the silence of their presence, the gentleness of starting our day together. I have heard some accomplished and appreciative young people comment that they could never repay their parents for all that their parents gave them. I believe I can never repay my children for giving me the very deepest kind of love, the silly moments, the laughs, even the pain of their disappointments, and of course, their sleepy faces as they quietly took in their breakfast.
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