Next week: Driving

We have walking. It's official. Tonight, just seconds ago in fact, TheGirl made it a good eight steps on her own, freestanding, without anybody holding her hand. She doesn't quite have the hang of it yet -- she keeps her head too far back to maintain much balance, and she's got her feet too close together to really work up any speed -- but still ...

She leaves for college next week. That is, at least, what it feels like at moments such as this, as if our teeny tiny things are well on their way out of the house, into their own lives. One step follows another, etc. It's enough to make a mother want to weep.

Except, of course, that I can hear TheBoy screaming in the background because he doesn't want his Ima to wipe his tushy for him even though the entire world -- or at least the parts within sniffing distance of his rear end -- recognize that he's not yet capable of taking care of his own needs in that department. And TheGirl took those baby steps away from me only to fall down -- baby go boom! -- on her butt, and immediately start to cry.

So we have a ways to go before they up and leave. But it doesn't always feel that way.