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I stood in the driveway Monday morning in my PJs, waving and smiling through my tears.
My husband stood beside me and whispered, "Just think, we have to do this two more times."
I nearly smacked him.
My baby was driving himself to school for the first time ever.
Yes, I know a 16-year-old isn't technically a "baby," but as I've told each of our three kids many times before, they'll always be Momma's babies no matter how old they get.
The News-Journal office was closed Monday, so Cameron volunteered to take his younger brother and sister to school so Mom didn't have to get dressed as early as usual.
As I stood there in the driveway after everyone had left, I don't remember ever feeling so useless. The kids have always needed me.
"Mom, practice is over ... come get me." "Mom, will you take me to my friend's house?" "Hurry, Mom, my game starts soon."
But now Cameron is saying he'll help out. "I can pick up Logan after his practice." "Want me to go get the groceries?"
I'll be honest. There have been late nights when I've had to go pick one of the kids up from a late-night movie or ballgame and wished they could have driven themselves.
Last week as we waited for his turn to take the road test, I sat in his truck with him. He talked about all the places he'd be able to go and not have to ask me to take him. And I really was excited for him.
Until now, visits with his girlfriend always involved my husband or I, or her parents, dropping them off at the movies or some other place and picking them up. Now, I just feel unbelievably grateful that they're willing to stop by and visit us during an evening out.
But now that reality has hit, it's not quite as pleasant a feeling as I'd thought it would be. Somehow, I don't feel quite as "necessary."
It's funny how things we wish for during moments of frustration come back to haunt us.
At least I'm still needed for laundry and food.
Oh, and as my husband so helpfully pointed out, I get to do this two more times.