The love that screams its name really really loudly

Today, as I prepare to take Bob and leave him at preschool for the first time, I cannot help but think about how hard it is to watch him take this first step out into the world. Even though I left him at daycare when he was a baby and he stays with the nanny during the day now, somehow sending him off to school seems like a bigger deal. It's the first step in his journey of independence that will eventually lead him to leave home and probably someday start his own family.

It makes me unbearably sad to think of the kids leaving home. I love them fiercely. So much that sometimes it truly physically hurts. It's amazing because before I had kids, I didn't understand how people survived the baby years. The sleepless nights, the endless diapers, the constant demand for attention. But the minute Bob came out and they put him on my chest, I fell hopelessly in love. It's the kind of love that you can't even describe to someone who doesn't have kids. I've tried. It's sort of like having an enormous, obsessive crush on someone. You think about them endlessly. You want to be with them constantly. Every microscopic detail of their life seems endlessly fascinating. This is why parents can spend an hour discussing their kids poop.

And sometimes I wonder if I love one kid more. But they are both so amazing and so different, that it seems that I love one with as much fervor as the other. This is what makes me think I'd like to have another. To feel your heart expand to love someone so much, it completes your soul in a way I could never have imagined before.

My mom assures me that when they become teenagers, I won't like them nearly as much. I'm hoping this is true (sort of) because otherwise, I'm not sure how I could stand packing them up and shipping them off on their own life journey.