Not long ago, Austin ran to me, jumped into my arms and wrapped his little legs around my waist. We rubbed noses and he whispered into my ear, "I love you, Mommy."

Then he jumped down and ran to play.

As he left, I realized that at age 6, he was almost too big, too heavy for me to hold him that way. I looked outside at my oldest son, Tyler, now age 11, and I thought back. At some point, Tyler ran to me, and jumped into my arms like that for the very last time. The last time.

And that's when it hit me. We spend our children's lifetimes celebrating their firsts. The first step, first tooth, first words. First day of Kindergarten, first homecoming dance, first time behind the wheel. But somehow, along the way, we miss their lasts.

There are no photographs or parties thrown when a child takes his last nap or goes fishing in the pond for tadpoles for the last time. Nothing to make a mother stop and notice the last time that little boy runs and jumps into your arms the way Austin still does.

Then I wondered a bit more and Tyler came to mind again. Would I have held on longer if I'd known it was the last time?

And so I began to write. Sometimes with tears falling onto my cheeks, I chronicled the life of a child and all the last-times we miss along the way. In the process, my first children's book was born.

The pictures are fun and lighthearted - so that your children will laugh and giggle, while you quietly dab your tears. It is a children's book, a gift book, and a collector for anyone who has ever loved a child. Most of all it is a labor of love from me, a mom of six kids, who knows all too well the short time we have with our little ones.

I anxiously await your feedback on this project.