When do I know I'm done?

Knowing you're done having kids is a lot like knowing you're ready to have kids.

You don't know until it happens.

I wasn't the person who grew up wanting to have kids.  I did a little babysitting, but that was for the need for money - not the need for a little person in my life.  I honestly don't remember a single instance where I just couldn't get enough of someone's baby.  Then, when I was about nineteen, I hung out with a group of slightly older people and they had kids.  I didn't relish their lives at all and I was glad to leave and go to my own quiet apartment.  Until, one day, I couldn't put down the baby girl they were babysitting.

* And, by babysitting, I mean they still had huge drinking parties but now there was a one year old attending too.*

I don't know if it was my protective instincts or my childhood filled with drunk and dangerous people in my personal space; but, I wouldn't put that baby down.  She sat on my lap while I played dominoes and I carried her around the empty bottles and full ashtrays rocking her to sleep and staring at her perfect face.

Still, I didn't contemplate having children at all.  I just didn't mind being an auntie when someone needed one.

Until Sofia came along.  The instant I knew I would be a mama, I knew I could be one.  I could do it.  I didn't know how or why I could, and I didn't know who she would be; but, I was ready for her.

And I was ready for Eva.

And I was ready for Maya.  

*in hind site, no one is ready for Maya, but I was as close as one will ever be.

By the time she rolled around to two years old, I knew I was done though.  That was the age each of the other two girls were when we started trying for another baby, but I didn't feel that urge at all after Maya.  She was supposed to be my last child, and I remain completely comfortable with that decision.

Babies are incomparable and amazing.  But so is eating dinner when it's hot because they can cut their own food.

Snuggling up with a warm, soft face pressed to your neck is quite simply the best feeling in the world.  But a close second is holding onto the edge of the bleachers while your kid scores a goal with a move she's practiced for years.

Little, high pitched voices calling your name because it's the only word they know is a beautiful song.  But hearing your child's name from the podium at awards night ain't too bad either.

Undoubtedly, there are things you just can't get once they're too old to scoop up and carry on your hip anymore.  And, yes, there are absolutely times that I would love to see the look you get when the school doors open and they catch sight of you through the crowd.  There is nothing that compares to tiny arms wrapped around your neck and the smell of baby hair pressed to your chin.

But it's so much easier to get that from other people's babies.

That way, they go home and you don't have to change the diapers.

I suppose what I'm saying is this:  I'm done having little black haired girls.  My hands are overflowing.

But there's always room for your little person to hang out for as long as they're willing.