For quite a long time, the standard arrangement has been for me to get the kids ready in the morning for Anna to take to the sitter's. Timing works out best now, however, for me to take Jacob to school, which has been great. I stayed home with him until he was 9 months old and really haven't had that kind of one-on-one time with him since ... until two weeks ago.

Each morning, it's just the two of us, which is quite a lot of fun. For example, he'll often remind me several times during the morning that I need to get ready so that he's not late for school, as though I had no idea. Or, he'll occasionally put in requests for breakfast, even though he knows he'll likely only get toast or cereal.

The real special time is actually dropping him off, which sounds like "man, I can't wait to get rid of the brat." That's obviously not the case. This morning, for example, we pulled up to the school, he unbuckled himself, got down from the back seat and worked his way up to me to give me an awkward from-behind hug and kiss on my cheek. He then worked his way back to the door to get out, got out, shut the door, struggled with his backpack for a moment, then started walking towards the building. He turned around probably 4 or 5 times and smiled and waved at me, frankly just about breaking my heart each time.

There's a certain stoic, logical side of me that's baffled by this. He's just waving 'bye; what's my problem? I think it's a combination of nostalgia and pride. I've found myself thinking a lot over the last two weeks about the last 6 years which has seen Anna and I go from unemployed, scared kids, still living with our parents with an unexpected pregnancy to responsible parents with stable jobs, a house, and a kindergartener. My little baby boy is a long way from being all grown up, but it mildly scares me how quickly we've gotten from diapers to homework.