A person could casually walk past my car on the street, glance inside and not know that I have kids. Sure, if they really looked closely they may see a stray crayon or even a cast off cheap toy, but there are no…car seats. A few weeks ago Rocky met that magical height recommended by our state (and firmly reinforced by our pediatrician) where he no longer needed to ride in a booster seat while in the car. The moment he heard the news, it was like the brass band had started playing, confetti was dropping from the ceiling and he was doing a happy dance worthy of superstardom. Meanwhile, his identical twin, Sport, stood by watching all of the imaginary fanfare knowing he was a fraction of an inch shorter, still relegated to that “baby” seat. After little deliberation, Maverick and I easily decided that Sport too was in the clear and it was time for all the booster seats to be emptied out of our car – another milestone in our house. A couple of days ago, I was driving Sport home from an appointment and he was unusually quiet. I glanced back at him in my rearview mirror only to see the top of his blond spikes poking out back at me. When I asked why he was so quiet, he told me he was just thinking about how thankful he was to not be sitting in that booster seat anymore. It’s amazing how something seemingly so small can truly be so big in the mind of a child. Then again…looking through the window into that empty car without any car seats was so huge to me.