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A momentous event occurred in my house this week. We threw away our last pull up. Punkin, at three and half years old, is now sleeping without a pull up at night. That means that for the first time in over 6 years, nobody in my house is wearing a diaper or a pull up. Wow.

While I'm thrilled that we no longer have that expense, what it really means is that there are no babies in my house anymore. And while I do enjoy that, it is definitely bittersweet.

I didn't really feel sad when I gave away my maternity clothes. And I only felt a small twinge of sadness when we sold the crib that both my kids slept in. But this, this is surely proof that there are no more babies. That they are growing up.

I remember someone once told me that as parents we always celebrate the firsts with our children -- first smile, first steps, first words. But we don't often recognize the lasts -- last bottle, last diaper, last time they sit in your lap. But that feels too sad. Too backward looking. I'm enjoying the people that my children are becoming. I loved them as babies, but I relish in their peoplehood. So, I'm going to try not to be too sad about no more pull-ups. We're moving on. To bigger and better things.