Ah, now I get it.

I've often spoken with disdain about "helicopter parents." I'd like to think I'll have the strength not to be one - after all, calling a teacher to argue with him or her about giving my child a bad grade does seem almost as absurd as calling my child's future employers to see if the job will give him what he wants/needs in a job. However, after last night, I do kind of understand how much cutting the cord, even a little bit, sucks.

Am I being overdramatic? Oh, hell yes! But knowing that didn't stop me from feeling a little bummed last night when we got home to a quiet, Ragsy-free home for the first time in two years. I never thought it would be sad knowing I wouldn't be woken by the sound of a door slamming open, then closed and little feet padding to my bedside and the dreaded, "Hi, mommy," that my son greets me with every morning at 6:30 or before.

Kids can be so annoying. When you have them for the first time, you initially wonder how you can love something and dislike it so much at the same time. I mean, I've got brothers and sisters - two of whom are 15 years younger than I am. So it's not like I've never been around a helpless baby before. But at least I could give them back and leave. I thought I was prepared when I had Ragsy, then we had the complications which amplified the typicaly post-birth hormones and all the other emotional crap you go through.

In my painfully honest moments with myself, I admit that there were many times I did not like him at all. But now, even when he's deliberately going through his list to push all my buttons just to see what my reaction is like a sadistic little dictator, I don't dislike him anymore. No matter how much I snap at him, I no longer feel like giving him to someone and running away. So last night was hard even if it was small. And in my head, I've blown it up to one of those teeny, tiny firsts in a long, long list of teeny, tiny firsts that takes him a little bit further away from me. Isn't that silly?

We even stopped by after we had dinner because we couldn't get anyone on the phone and wanted to make sure he wasn't crying. By the time we had gotten there, we were ready to pack him up and take him home, to cuddle him and hold him close, all of us piling into his bed together and watching him drift off. We would swoop in and save the day. But they said he'd gorged himself on pizza, enjoyed himself thoroughly and promptly conked out. All by himself and without us there. It was only three months ago that he couldn't sleep through the night without me or his dad.

He clearly still needs us. But he's more independent than we thought he was. The little man can obviously hold his own sometimes better than we can.