My boys are growing up. This is most evident in my six year old. Every day, he's exerting his independence more and more.
Today, I woke up to the smell of toast, so I got out of bed to check. Sure enough, the 6 year old was making toast. Not only that, but he had one slice covered in peanut butter when I found him.
He's my baby; he shouldn't be old enough to use the toaster, for heaven sake! But alas, he is.
Every summer since C was about 18 months, my in laws have taken the boys for a few days at their house. It's nice for them; they swim, don't bathe, hardly eat a vegetable and stay up late. It's all the things that time at grandma's should be.
This is the week. J got off work early to take both boys and his 4yo neice, S, to Grandmas. They were so excited that neither one of them stopped to give me a hug and say goodbye.
In their defense, I was holding their 6-week-old cousin, but still. I hollered, "Bye, boys!" and neither one of them turned like they heard me.
Is this what the rest of my parenting experience is going to be? Me wanting their attention, instead of them wanting mine?
I hope not. That it would come this early makes me sad.
I can't wait for them to be home on Friday.