Yay! Chase will probably get to come home on Thursday. That's a few days earlier than I anticipated. He has all his nurses and respiratory managers wrapped around his little finger. He doesn't get that kind of treatment at home. Pat and I have had to leave him at the hospital on his own since we both work. We've never done that before. One or the other was always there. But Chase is older now too. Last night was the first night he spent without one of us there, and guess what, he was just fine.
I like that my kids are independent. I've never been the type to hover, well, at least not that they'd know. On the third day of kindergarten after I knew that Tate knew his way to class, I pulled the navigator to the side of the curb, and while the other mothers dutifully walked their children into the school, hands held tightly, I grinned at Tate. "Do you want me to walk you in or are you ready to go alone?" I watched his face transform even as he tried not to look so pleased with himself. "I can go without any moms," he said. So I remained in my car and watched him walk with giant, confident strides on little legs until he disappeared inside the school. And so what if I stayed there for a few minutes afterward, you know, just in case.