I know that it is supposed to happen and everyone says it happens and it is good that this happens...
My kids are growing up. They are maturing. They are independent. They are tall. They are smart. They do not need me to clean them, cut their nails, wash their faces, dress them. Ben, my 6 year old, runs around naked and I wonder how long that will last. His cute little butt- I won't see that much longer. Justin (14) comes home from school yesterday and gets out a fry pan to make himself a "snack". A full course breakfast... by himself. When did that happen? Dillon (9) takes showers in the morning without being told to... am I in the right house? Nick (12) is almost taller than me. Friends do not call to "play", they call to "hang out". I no longer buy Barney and Elmo... clothing sizes ending with "T" are long gone.
Sometimes I look at them and wonder who they are. These are not my kids. My kids are little toddlers running around coloring on walls and singing "the wheels on the bus go round and round". Not these pre-adults who come and go and blast "hey hey mama said the way you move" from their stereos.
I am not complaining... their independence, in a lot of ways, means mine. It is neat being able to have a conversation that does not include the word potty. Although with boys, actual conversations are rare. It is a wonderful thing to not worry about babysitters. A wonderful thing. To have them all off at school ALL DAY is heaven.
But I miss holding them, feeding them and touching those soft chubby cheeks. It seems like only yesterday...