i'm four now, mom

Ever since Ben's three-day birthday extravaganza last weekend, Ben has matured dramatically. When walking in the parking lot, he tells me, "I don't need to hold your hand. I'm four now, Mom." Okay, I say, but I make him wait until we are up on the sidewalk and off of the car-laden asphalt before he lets go. Once he is free of me, he runs ahead, looking back only to see how far away from me he's managed to get. It's very sad. I know the central goal of being a parent is to help foster your child's independence, but I'm not ready for him to stop wanting to hold my hand. Yesterday when we were in the car, he told me, out of nowhere, "Mom, I'm going to go downstairs by myself. In the dark." I assumed he meant he was going to wander around the house in the middle of the night. I told him that at night it is time to sleep and that he shouldn't roam the house unsupervised. "I'm four now, Mom," he replied, as if this was all the evidence he needed. After I put him to bed last night, I went up to check on him, and his door was closed. He normally hates it when his bedroom door is closed, and we always leave it open to prevent him from screaming at us. But now his door was closed, and he's the one who had closed it. I guess this just means that he is four now.