My boys are with other moms tonight, being fed, driven, loved up, cheered for. Just made dinner for four other boys I love, whose moms are dancing or relaxing or making love or celebrating. “Thanks!” they chorused to the spagetti, French bread, and salad, and now they are gobbling and chatting. My sons should check in soon,via cell phone, and I imagine they are getting the same loving treatment. This is the life I’ve worked towards. This is how I wanted to help children feel. “It’s all about the kids,” my co-mom Mary said not long ago. Wiser words were never spoken.