my baby vs my Big Boy

My baby went through a rite of passage yesterday, as did his devoted mom.

My baby, my boy, my D went to his first sleep-over last night. Yes, he is growing up. And there is no stopping it.

Brendan's,daddy called up on Monday and asked if David would like to go over and spend the night on Thursday. "Oh... well, um, I'll have to talk to him about it," I sputtered. "He has never spent the night at anyone's house before," I explained, "And we will have to talk about it." I promised to call him back within the next day to confirm, or send regrets.

I got off the phone and told D that I had something rather important to talk to him about. I explained that Brendan's dad invited him to spend the night.

"Oh! Good! Yea! I wanna go, Mom," he instantly replied, before turning to go back about his play.

"But wait a minute, wait a minute... think about it, hon. You've never been overnight at someone's house before..."

No hesitation, "No, I wanna go, Mom." He shook his head up and down and offered a reassuring smile.

Oh. O-kaaaay.

I called and told Brendan's dad that D would be there on Thursday. I hung up.

I started counting down the days.

Last night, Thursday- the night I let go just a little bit more, was a rather long night. I awoke at least a couple of times. Each time I said a little prayer that my little boy was safe and sleeping comfortably and well.

I won't go into how I called him to say good night or how I brainstormed ways to kill time this morning and early afternoon before I could pick him up from his friend's house. Let's just say the minutes did tick by, however slowly, and I was only about 10 minutes early to get my boy.

He isn't my baby anymore. He is almost a first grader.

He went and spent the night at a friend's house with barely a backward glance.

There is absolutely no doubt. He is officially a Big Boy.