Here’s what I've been thinking lately as I watch my kids grow: If I do this mothering thing correctly, eventually I’ll work myself right out of a job—meaning my kids will become independent, fully functioning, and productive members of society and not, say, permanent residents on my family room couch (temporary couch crashing is, however, always an option). I’m so proud of them both, especially how they've met some recent challenges, and am happy to say it looks like they are on their way. 

Parental pink slip, here I come. Or perhaps, I'll just downsize from a full-time, hands-on mom to more of a maternal consultant. 

Note to those younger people who share my last name and DNA: Yes, I’ll still do your laundry when you’re home from college, whip up your favorite meals when you come to visit, and always, always, always be there for you for all the drama, the excitement, and everything in between. ‘Cause no matter how old you are, where you’re living, or how much taller and/or sophisticated you become, you’ll always be my babies. (Ain't that the truth, Moms?)