It’s official. My first born, my baby boy, is off to start his first day at his first job.
Amidst grumbles and growls, I managed to snap a picture of this monumental day. That poor kid has been pounding the pavement (well, the virtual pavement, mostly) for more than two years, hunting for a job.
He carries an air of nonchalance as he walks out the door, but I could feel the nervousness kicking off of him.
For me, it’s a little bittersweet. This is what we raise them for, to send them out in the world ready to thrive. This is the goal. Successful adulthood. But, it means my baby is all grown up. Soon, he’ll have saved up some money and will venture out on his own.
This is the beginning of the end. One is preparing to fly the coupe, and the other is already more than halfway there. She is plotting and planning and ready to soar.
What does a mama bird do when her babies don’t need her anymore?