The past couple of weeks I’ve noticed a shift in our house. Something strange is happening to the children.

They’re growing.

Not the kind of growing Chloe, our three year old, tries to prove half way through breakfast every morning by climbing down from her booster chair, standing next to the counter and announcing, “I don’t have to eat my banana. Look how tall I am.”

Hanna, our ten year old, went away overnight and stayed in a hotel for two nights–and just like that, she doesn’t need me anymore.

This weekend, we attended an event where the kids walked into a banquet hall and immediately hit the dance floor as opposed to climbing onto my lap at a round table while they attempted to make cloth napkin flowers.

I’m noticing these changes and maybe for the first time, find myself uttering the words, “It goes by so fast.”

The girls were in a swim meet on the weekend, further than arm’s reach. I sat in the bleachers and cheered while they listened to officials and kept their eyes on the location of the driest towel.

What they need from me is to be their biggest fan, not the one to tell them how to make them better swimmers, they have coaches for that.

They don’t need me to pull the top of their bathing caps and wish them luck, they have friends for that.

They don’t need me to pack them snacks, they have a masked candy supplier for that. Seriously, who is giving them all the candy?

They don’t need me to adjust the hot and cold water on the showers. They’re already clean from the pool chemicals. Wink.

We’re entering a new phase and it’s going to take some adjusting for all of us.

Last night, Hanna said the four little words I had really been missing.

“Will you carry me?”

No you big lug, but I can hold your hand.

Then Chloe said the best thing of all.

“Try to sit on me, I dare you.”