When you don't want your youngest to grow up, but you also sort of do...

Here's something Terry and I have noticed in recent years.

We'll be talking to a parent whose last/youngest child is nearing high school graduation and they'll be borderline distraught about it. They can't imagine not doing kid activities anymore and not having the same routine, and understandably, they're having a hard time grasping the concept of their baby going off to college or trade school, or entering the workforce.

We will nod sympathetically. And then, as we walk away, we will turn to each other and say (almost in unison), "I can't wait until Jack graduates."

This is not nearly as heartless as it sounds. We're enjoying Jack's high school experience as much as we did with the first four, maybe even a little more so. It's just that, with kids starting to move out of the house, we've had a taste of the empty nest life. And well...

It's awesome.

I love my children, don't get me wrong. They're good people. Fun to be around, smart, mostly conscientious, and so easy to be proud of.

But we've been through many years of the chaos that comes with a large family (a family we chose to have, it should be noted). And the freedom and peace and quiet that comes with a smaller household just can't be beat.

Believe me, I know we're going to miss sports and band and everything that comes with having kids under the age of 18. Even having been through the cycle multiple times, we still love it all.

Then Terry starts talking about having a house in Florida where we can spend the winter months, and I admittedly get a little tingly.

So Jack, my boy, you're doing great. Keep getting those good grades, keep running, keep playing your trumpet, and keep on keeping us busy. But when it's time for you to step out into the wide world on your own, trust me what I say this:

I will be right there, helping you pack up the U-Haul.