My two year old has found his independence.

It's kind of like hearing Mel Gibson yell "FREEDOM" on an hourly basis. Free from a life where my mom does EVERYTHING for me. I don't understand it. I remember living at home in my twenties with my mom and loving it when she did everything for me.

My favorite so far has been the stairs. He wants to do them completely by himself. If I even touch him mid flight (that word sounds funny)... then he'll go back up/down the last five steps, yelling "ME DO IT MYSELF" the entire way.

We ran into a flight with like 100 stairs (not exaggerating) and he HAD to do them himself. It took about five hours (ok... exaggerating). When it was time to go back down those stairs I reminded Ash how much he loves the elevator. "Please? You can jump up and down in it, and push all the buttons!" Just my luck one of those buttons was an alarm... but that's another story.

I have a love/hate relationship with the independence. I love this kid so much I'd do anything for him. And try to daily. It breaks my heart a little to hear "do it myself." I'm not needed (as much anyway).

I love it though because I'm getting a small taste of my own "FREEDOM" moments. What? You can put on your own shoes, turn the TV off, and climb into the car? I've just shaved like 4 minutes off my 'leaving the house' routine.

I'm trying not to let myself get too used to it. As soon as I do we'll probably end up with another baby in the 'baby cave' (as my husband so lovingly refers to it).

For now... I think I'll just enjoy my miniature Mel Gibson and my newly found four minutes of freedom.