It was a chilly, sun filled morning in New York City. A sedan was parked outside a swanky apartment building. One adult sat in the passenger seat while the other loaded a piece of luggage into the trunk. In the back seat, a small figure did his best to hide his tears as he waved goodbye to his mother.

She had already showered him with hugs and kisses and told him his Washington DC adventure would be absolutely grand. Yet as the driver shut the trunk and got into the car, the little boy buried his face in his hands. The mother watched from the lobby door as the car pulled away. They would not see each other again for five days.

As I took the elevator up to my sister’s apartment to start my own Big Apple adventure with Little Guy, my eyes filled with tears. I told myself to pull it together. Big Guy was with his grandparents, for goodness sakes. He wanted to go. He asked to go. It was just the act of him leaving that was killing me.

In theory, the plan had been simple. We’d fly to New York, leaving Really Big Guy and his booted leg in Raleigh. After one night, Big Guy would leave with my parents. Little Guy and I would stay on in the city. In a few days, we’d meet back at home.

But when reality set in, it was much harder to let him go. It would be the first time I would be separated from my first baby. Every irrational mommy fear I could conjure up crept into my head, interfering with any attempt at clear thinking.

Then, I got the jolt I needed. A jolt that put it all in perspective. It hit early in the evening, soon after getting off the phone with Big Guy, who had called for the fourth time that day. He said his trip was already awesome. And, if it was OK, he would probably be calling me less over the next few days.

By the time I had hung up the phone, Little Guy was giggling away with his cousin, walking the city streets five steps ahead of me without a care in the world, acting as though he was born a city kid. At one point he stopped. He turned to his cousin, and then he looked back toward me. And with the air blowing against his face he yelled, “I’ve never felt so alive!”

Suddenly, I was overcome with a strange feeling that although we were still a family, our dynamics had unexpectedly shifted. I felt as though I was watching a new era from the sidelines. It was one of those parenting moments I didn’t see coming, but I knew it was here to stay.

Sure, for Big Guy, I was only a phone call away, just in case he needed reassurance. For Little Guy, I was only a few steps behind, just in case he needed anything. But after that first day, the phone didn’t ring very much. And for all the days we walked that city, Little Guyrarely looked back.

As parents, we kneel beside them as they learn to walk, ready to catch them when they fall. Then one day, they run. We jog behind them when they learn to ride their two wheelers, ready to stop the tumble and push them up the big, neighborhood hill. Then one day, they make it on their own.

And then one day, they let us know they’re ready for a taste of freedom. Instead of leading, we step aside. We swallow our reluctance. And we let them go.

Illyse appears Thursdays on TriangleMom2Mom.