We tend to celebrate "firsts" with our children - first word, first step, first day of school. Yesterday I tried not to tear up as C lost his last baby tooth. My boy is getting way too big. I drove us home from the dentist, him beside me in the front seat (don't even get me started on how weird it is for him to be able to ride "shotgun"), trying not to cry. I don't know if he knew how nostalgic I was feeling - but as we hit the driveway he bounded from the van yelling "hey - let's go write to Santa!". Sniff. Contented sigh. He's still my little boy.
C when he lost his first tooth at age 5