I took my youngest to the church nursery. His favorite teacher was there to greet him. But this Sunday she says, "Luke - you are such a big boy that you get to go upstairs to Sunday School with all of the other big boys!" I started to protest. "But he's only four. He likes going to the Green Frog or the Blue Bunny rooms." She looked at me sympathetically and said, "It goes by so quickly doesn't it?"

I tooK his hand and fought back the tears. I say to myself - "You're being ridiculous. Keep it together. " But, the rooms upstairs didn't have that smushed graham cracker smell. The chairs were bigger and oversized toys were replaced by crayons and construction paper. I hated it. Luke, who can read me like a book, grabbed my hand and said, "I can't beweeve I am in the big boy room. Don't worry mommy. I will be just fine." I couldn't respond and had to make a quick exit before I completely broke down.
Now I know this is crazy. But I guess I am coming to terms with the fact that Luke will probably be my last baby. We are starting to move out of sippy cups, Little People and Barney Videos and moving into Sponge Bob, Video Games, and Star Wars. I knew I had my final hurrah with the "Wizard of OZ" birthday party I planned for his fourth. Now, he has his heart set on Iron Man or Spiderman for his fifth.

I am desperately holding on to each moment and doing my best to say "YES!" to Candy Land, to say "YES!" to bubble blowing, and to say "YES" to "just a few more snuggles mommy and then I promise I will go to sleep."

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