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?