As time marches on we repeatedly find ourselves face to face with childhood milestones (first tooth?  Check.  First step?  Check.)  There was a time, I believe, when I thought that we were running significant milestones to achieve (first word?  Check.  First haircut?  Check.) and it's true that they are now fewer and farther between (first bike?  Check.), but they are becoming more momentous (first ER visit?  Check.) and more meaningful (goodbye diapers?  Check.) as time goes on.  And that brings me to this morning when I all but dropped Calvin off at his first big boy class (first parent-free social situation?  Check.), a special 2 hour art, dance, and music extravaganza with the same fantastic teacher he's had for music since he was only a year old.  Of course, you'll notice that I said "all BUT" dropped him off, and that's because it was, after all, the first day of class and all moms were invited to stay and observe.  So I did.  I stayed, and I observed my son completely ignoring me while he played musical games, created three very saturated washable paint masterpieces, made a hat out of a paper bag and insisted on wearing it, snacked on all the foods offered (including the garbanzo beans and broccoli that were shunned by the other kids), built a very imaginative train station out of wood blocks, and became totally engrossed in his teacher's very spirited reading of books for some calm down time right at the end.  At that point, after the final book closed, he remembered that I was there.  What a very fantastic first class.  For both of us.