"Oh, mom, leave me alone!"

Some students at a local college are raking leaves in our neighborhood in exchange for a donation to Habitat for Humanity, a favorite cause of mine. I signed up, and two guys and a girl came over and plowed through our front and backyard. Max was right out there with them. He helped rake. He dumped leaves onto the tarp. He helped drag the tarp to the curb.

When I stepped outside to take pictures of him, Max shook his head and waved me in. I tried to hide behind a bush (he looked so cute, I really wanted more photos), but he spotted me and again told me to go inside. I just barely snapped this pic.

Max wants independence. Of course he does. It's something I forget sometimes, because he's still dependent on us for a lot of things—feeding, dressing, diapering. But he's going to be 7, soon. And inside that body is a little boy who wants to be free to do things alone, without his mom or dad. Like any other 7-year-old.

It's me who needs to work on this independence thing. Because every inch of me wants to hover around Max, help Max, take care of Max. I've been in overdrive for years.

I know I have to let my baby grow up, in whatever ways he's ready to.

I have to let go.