by Laura Falin posted in Life

I am, decidedly, done having kids.
After I had my third, I remember talking to my mom and saying, "Wellll...I'm not sure if we're done or not." She responded, "Ohhh. You'll know." She was right. I had our fourth and my husband and I looked at each other and just knew. We love them all, we're glad we had each and every one of them, and... we're done now.
So I view everything my youngest does, knowing that I will never have another baby or toddler or kid who does these things. We experience every milestone knowing it's going to be the last time we do these things. And after doing them all four times, it's hard to know there won't be any more.
I did expect this, of course. I expected to get sentimental over her first steps, and first words, and first days of school. Everyone expects that. Our kindergarten even has a "Tea and Tissues" morning when parents send their babies off to school for the first time. So it shocked me that those weren't the moments that made me well up inside and get teary and wistful. The moments I miss...I didn't even know were moments at the time.
I miss going to adventure. 
I miss sitting in the purple swing at the park, reading library books at 10 in the morning.
I miss eating lunch with whichever kids were young enough to be home from school at the time.
I miss hearing someone lisp "vegpitals" instead of "vegetables."
I miss The Naked Dance that every single one of my...