The other week my sister told me a story about her three-and-a-half year old daughter, Maya. Maya was taking her bath while my sister was tending to her four-month-old baby sister, Lucy. Ever the bright go-getter, Maya stepped out of the tub and for the first time in her life dried herself off, rubbed cream all over herself, brushed her wet hair, and put on her pajamas. My sister was shocked to see her, and proud, and a little sad. As a mom of two boys, ages 5 and 3, my first response to this story was, Wow, girls are light years ahead of boys! Then I had to admit to myself that I don’t foster this kind of self-sufficiency in my kids at all. I still bathe my 5-year-old, brush his teeth, comb his hair, shove bites of dinner into his mouth, and dress him. (I’m like a pedicurist, kneeling in front of him and tapping his shins to put on his pants and shoes as he colors or plays on the iPad.) I know he can do all of these things on his own; he’s done them. And my 3-year-old can too, and often does. But you know what? I’m just not going to worry about it. As a fellow kindergarten mom said to her kid the other morning at drop-off, “I love you like crazy! Like a lunatic!” For me, that sentiment means that I need to hug and squeeze those boys as much as humanly possible, because even though I know they will always be mine, I still miss them every second, even when I’m with them.