I recently re-posted a piece that I wrote back in 2011 for a site geared towards pregnancy, parenthood and the like. I called it “Back to School Blues” and it was a combination of advice from a teacher (my column on the site was called “The Little Scholar”) and my feelings as a new parent.

I read it now with fresh eyes, and, simultaneously, knowing eyes.

Because on Monday my son, my baby, the child who, presumably, will be my youngest, started camp.

Which, essentially, is starting school.

Monday was my very last first day.

Of course I have so many milestones ahead, but I will never again have my baby’s first day ever of school. The day when his backpack is almost as big as his body and when every single member of my family calls me three times to check on how he did.

And he did just fine. I had to say “goodbye” to him three times, as he was so distracted by the slide in his classroom. By the way, not that you asked, but it is my belief that you should say goodbye when leaving your children. Why? Wouldn’t sneaking out be easier when they are happily distracted?

Well, you want them to trust you. If I were to sneak out every time he turned his back he would always wonder whether or not I would be there.

Instead, I say, “I love you, I will see you soon!” and then I show him that I make good on my word by picking him up at the end of the day, essentially seeing him soon.

On Monday I heard that he cried on and off for the first hour or so, that he loved being pushed around in the stroller and that music class was his favorite.

Today was his second day of camp. I was also home alone with both kids this morning, which meant that I was responsible for getting two kids ready and out the door, each with their respective bags and lunches and lovies.

I know, I know.

You’ve been there.

You do this every day.

But for me, this was a first.

I dropped off two different children at two different camps and it felt like a new stage of motherhood entirely.

In fact, because it was pouring rain, I elected to do carline with my son, meaning a teacher came up to our car and took him out and into his class as I waved goodbye.

#secondchild.

But as much as we as a society tease about how second and subsequent children get treated so much differently than the first born, I think that a lot of it is to their advantage. For example, when my son did carline today, he was happy to be plucked out of his seat, holding Muno and his backpack. This is because he has spent the past 20 months watching his sister get in and out of carline at her school. He gets it.

I was very emotional about sending my little boy off to camp. In fact, I may have waited until the 11th hour to fill out forms and prepare his bag of supplies, as a form of denial.

I don’t have a toddler and a baby anymore.

I now have two kids.

I welled up with tears just typing that;

tears of immense gratitude but also tears of wistfulness.

I am so happy to see my children growing and thriving. On Friday my daughter got up on stage and performed in her camp showcase. Yesterday, my son found the plastic pumpkin with all of our leftover Halloween candy and has discovered that he loves Whoppers.

Right before my eyes.

They say that the days are long and the years are short and that could not be more true. I was just looking at my daughter’s baby book–at the faces of friends and family members holding her as a newborn in the hospital–and I am incredulous as to how she has grown up so much, so fast.

But, this is part of being a parent. And not only is it part of it, but it is actually a good part. Because as hard as it is to walk out of that classroom door,

to relinquish control,

to let someone else dry tears and give kisses,

I am giving my child tools he needs to grow into an independent, confident human being.

That is invaluable.

And also, I will keep it real.

Today was the first day since October 24, 2013 that I came home to a kid free house. I came home and there was no one here. And I didn’t have any appointments today or meetings to attend.

So, I’ll be honest with you. I gabbed on the phone. I answered emails. I napped. I ate with both hands.

I watched last night’s RHYONY…

while cradling the lovely, orange head of the plastic Jack-O-Lantern, snacking on Snickers bars and Tootsie Rolls.

40 minutes from now I will be back home with both children. It will feel a bit chaotic, as they both need completely separate things at separate times. And if only Doc McStuffins could come to visit Mickey Mouse’s Clubhouse every once in awhile. That would really helpful, OK, Disney Jr?

But I will cherish the moments with them a little bit more, as I see how they are so precious and,

as much as I hate to type this,

fleeting.

I love my children so much. I love them deeply and incredibly. And I am glad that we are all growing up.

And I may even share some of the Halloween candy.