This is a repost from 2 years ago. One of my favorites. I'll start writing again soon.  Enjoy.

It is fitting that I send my teeny tiny 6 year old baby boy on an airline called Frontier today.  We are approaching a new frontier indeed.  In my wildest imagination I could never have conjured the picture I saw this morning.  My Olderbaby, hair all slicked back, collared shirt tucked into his madras shorts, socks just right and shoes just so.  Able to recite his instructions with no prompting (remind Daddy to get the car seat from the car, say my prayers every night, have Daddy or Grandma read me my book before bed, call Mommy every day.  MISS MOMMY)  that last one added by me as he jumped in the car.

This is a VBD (very big day) for our family!  Never before has an Olderkid as young as this gotten on an airplane without his mama.  The very idea of an Older so young flying away from the nest strikes terror in my heart! Olderdaddy just yawns. 

I sneak down to the room shared by Blondie and Olderbaby, and quietly wake him up by tickling his toes.  I crook my finger at him to signal him to come down for some snuggle time with me before he has to get dressed and moving.  His sleepy little head wobbles on top of his rubbery body as he makes his way to the Mamabed.  They all love the Mamabed and wonder why it's SO much softer than theirs.  Why are the blankets so much... FLUFFIER?  Why are the sheets so much cooler?  It is of course, because all of the family love is right here. Right here is where each of them slept when they came home from the hospital.  This is where they nursed, snuggled, giggled, cried, dreamed the mystery dreams of babyhood and the vivid dreams of toddler-hood. This is where we have taken Family Naps on rare Sunday afternoons when it's snowing so hard we can't leave.  We don't actually sleep of course, we are too many now and too many of us are too large to sleep.  So we talk.  We watch some TV.  We make a Family Sandwich.  Oldermama and Olderdaddy the bread, and each kid whatever he wants to be that day.  Even the teenager still enjoys this time.  It is a tradition carried out even when they visit their Grandparents in the summer at at Christmastime.

On this morning, Olderbaby snuggles in close.  He tucks his head into the crook of my shoulder and his hand under the cool, soft skin of my underarm. I kiss his little face nine million times and tell him how much I love him and how I'll miss him.  I tell him to tell Grandma if he wants to talk to me and she'll help him call.  I try to quiet the fear rising in my stomach about his flying without me.  I smile, knowing how grown up he feels and what a fun, big boy time he is going to have on the plane with Dad.  I smile too knowing that Grandma and Grandpa are going to have such a special time this week.  Just ONE kid ALL to themselves.  And this kid who is so loving and giving and kind and funny.  Lucky them.  Since he started Kindergarten, *I* don't even have that luxury anymore.  Mostly I just take in deep breaths of his hair, his skin, even his stinky morning breath.  I will miss him SO much. 

I will spend time with his brothers that will be different in content and construction than it is when the littlest is around.  There will be less restriction on what we do, where we go, what we see and say.  There will also be less tenderness and less laughing.  The little one is the glue that holds us all together.  The little one is universally loved even if he DOES break something of value to one of the others.  The littlest one is ALWAYS forgiven, and rarely spoken to harshly.  He is carried and tickled and tossed around and he loves it.  He loves being the "baby" of the family, even while he tries so hard to be grown up like his brothers.

After a few minutes of snuggle, it's time to pop him in the tub and scrub him all up for Grandma.  He is unusually cooperative getting his hair washed and climbing out of the tub when I say it's time.  He dries himself and shivers in the coolness of the morning asking me to snuggle him in his towel for just a few minutes. I happily wrap him up.  Then it is all business.  Tuck my shirt in right mom.  My belt is crooked.  And the hair, never have I met a child so particular about his hair.  It must be combed to the right.  Not one hair sticking up anywhere. Smooth to the touch sleek and tight to his head. 

And now he is ready.  One last recitation of the instructions, and 28 kisses to last till I see him again. One last glimpse as he blows me kisses and signs "I love you." through the back window of the car as the garage door closes.  He is ready.  Ready for this huge step into big-boyhood.  Ready for this new Frontier.