These three are at the same school in 5th, 2nd and 5K. Elle lost her two front teeth this summer, one of which I pulled out yesterday at the beach. I love her snaggle tooth. And the smiles on these boys . Scroll to the bottom for the big kid.

I’m sitting here in my quiet house. It’s so quiet that I can hear a fan running in a back bathroom. Every once in a while Luke punctuates the silence with a question, “Hey, do you know my EIN?” “Um, yes. Give me a minute,” I reply.

This morning I went for a walk on the beach. I raked the front yard, neatened the garage, bleached the kitchen cabinets and made breakfast for myself.

4 hours ago my kids left for their first days of kindergarten, second grade, fifth grade and seventh grade. How did this happen? Yesterday, Charlie Mac was my baby bear who never left my side. I was walking Elle into daycare. Luke was learning to read. Fleet was my only child. Time feels like a gift and a thief.

I’ve always been excited for the first day of school. Not just for them, for their chance to socialize, gain independence, learn. But also for myself and the minute I might have with less children or no children where I could get stuff done without it being immediately undone and occasionally do something just because I want to.

This year, I’m excited for this day but it feels more bittersweet than it has in the past.

We were on the beach two days ago and all of the kids were happily playing, not needing a thing from me including my attention, which is normally the most sought after resource of all. I looked over at Luke and said, “We’re basically empty nesters. They’ve already left us.” Because tomorrow they will.

I’m being dramatic, I know. But sometimes it feels true. I swear, I vividly remember laying Fleet in his crib for THE VERY FIRST TIME and I thought, “Well, he’s amazing. I’m having more of these.” That was over 12 years ago.

We are entering a new era with these babies. No diapers, no naps. Everyone dresses themselves and wipes their own bottoms. They can make themselves food though the mess isn’t usually worth the effort. They can handle long lines through airports as we found out this summer. They can walk the dog and clean the kitchen and shampoo their own hair. And while I will forever cherish those bitty snuggles and sweet voices, I’m loving this new stage too. We no longer have babies.

I sent them off this morning with all the dreams . . . for loving friendships, a sense of curiosity, resilience, confidence, humility . . . Go get ’em babies. I mean, big kids.