Lately I have been feeling very sentimental. Open. Raw. Everything makes me cry. Last night I cried when Cian went to sleep on his own. It wasn’t the first time he has done it, it’s actually been several nights running. But last night, it felt different. Last night he looked at me with newfound independence and said, “night mama” and rolled over, drifting easily into slumber. I know it seems silly. I should be celebrating! I shouldn’t be a ball of emotion and tears over this transition. I mean, I’m welcoming another baby soon and his confidence is soothing. While at the same time, my heart was wrapped around him as the “last” baby for so long that every new big boy thing he does leaves me feeling breathless. It all moves so quickly, the current of life sweeps us along and before you realize it, your babies have become children, your children have become teenagers, your teenagers are dancing with adulthood. And here I am with a lump rising in my throat over something as simple as a photograph. It seems some days I got motherhood and some days she has me.