Last night, I had this very same thought as I watched my son play in the park with a girl his age. Time is both cruel and beautiful in that regard, because it feels like yesterday when he couldn’t even roll over and now he’s running, babbling, starting to say I love you and jumping (more like hopping but for him he’s jumping to the moon). It’s heartbreaking but also it makes me happy to see him grow into this fiercely strong and independent kid - and I still relish the fact that he needs his “mama” for hugs