No more babies calling me at night.

An acquaintance stopped in yesterday, with her brand spankin' new little girl. Baby girls are the absolute best. She was cute, and teeny tiny, and her little feet in her little socks.....But no. No more babies here. We are all done with that rollercoaster. I spent a great deal of time last evening moping about the finality of "no more babies". Then Boy Terror stepped up to the plate, and reminded me just why it is I am never. doing. that. again. He woke up at 1:00am. And 4:30 am. And 5:10 am. And 6:00 am ....oh wait, that was his sister, who just wanted to shout for a minute. He woke up at 7:15, talking like it was morning, but I showed him the dark outside, and refused to look awake, and he went back down for 2 hours. Girl Terror took over and boinged out of bed at 7:00. I am far, far too old to do this anymore. If the actual giving birth didn't kill me, waking up with another kid would do me in. I have a child who wakes me up screaming that her pillow is lost. The other one loves to be awake just to gaze at me and grin. Cute, but not what I need in the dark hours of the night. If there was a third child to wake up needing a clean bum, a warm drink, and an hour of philosophy, someone would end up on large doses of Valium. And beer. And maybe a pound of chocolate every evening to fortify me for the night ahead.