Who hasn't had that moment now and again when you look back and feel a pang of sadness (or at the very least nostalgia), wondering "where has my baby gone?"
I definitely do at times. But getting on the plane to Boston last week... definitely wasn't one of those times. For the first time in over five years, I walked on the plane carrying a purse. A PURSE. That's it. Granted it was filled with electronics Jeff deemed necessary for me to have on my person, and random items the kids got bored of carrying as we unloaded them onto the security conveyor belt... But it was a freedom I hadn't enjoyed in a very, very long time.
And it got even better.
The boys decided that in addition to carrying their own backpacks, they also loved being "helpers." They each grabbed a full-size suitcase, dragging it through the airport and up to the ticket counter. It never even occurred to me that there would come a time they would actually HELP. It's invigorating, I tell ya!
Tell me: was there a time you found yourself equally grateful your babies were growing up?