My baby girl is growing up. She's going to be eighteen in just over two months. She'll graduate from high school a little more than a month after her birthday. Then it'll just be a matter of three or four months until she leaves for college. And who knows how often and for how long she'll be "home" after that???I've known this part of life was coming. Indeed, I've known since the day I learned I was pregnant that this girl is not my own, and my role is to raise her and prepare her for life beyond these four walls. And I'm OK with that. I know when Elizabeth is out "on her own" she will still need her mommy sometimes, and I fully intend to continue playing that role. But recently, something happened for which I was not prepared, and it has affected my feelings about letting my girl go. Elizabeth was gone for the weekend and, as Brian and I and the boys sat around the dinner table, something very strange happened to the conversation. Seemingly from out of nowhere, the guys started talking about scratching their *ahem!* balls. (Or nuts, or nads...they used all the terms.)And when they saw my reaction, they kicked it into high gear. As if they were thoroughly enjoying my lack of comfort or desire to hear more. Their laughter and camaraderie was quite a thing to observe, as they built on one another's jokes and comments to create their own little comedy show. Somewhere deep down in my heart, I'm sure I was treasuring the male-bonding which was taking place before me. But on the surface, while I considered the reality that one day soon this will be my reality - three males in the home, plus little ol' solitary female-me - I could only think one thing: I'm scared.Oh, mothers of all-boy-households, how - tell me how - do you do it???