More tired than tired.  More hungry than hungry.  More frazzled than frazzled.  Must remember to tenderly kiss the boy I shouted at half an hour ago before he hops off on his bus to NYC. 

This is nuts – he was just BORN and now he’s toddling down the street with a suitcase.

I remember once, when he was a big, busy ten-month-old, crying for some reason, and I picked him up and held him like a newborn, sideways in my arms and rocking him, marvelling at how his legs now stuck out way beyond my arms.  “Where did this big boy come from?” I asked him, over and over.

I used to think parents of teenagers were exaggerating their surprise at how big their kids had gotten all of a sudden.  You’d think we would have had time to get used to it.  No kidding here, though; every day, I cannot believe it.

Where did this big boy come from?


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