The other day when I was driving home from the WalMart with all three kids, I happened to glance into the car that was stopped next to us at a light. Inside the car was a young family. The baby in the backseat — totally adorable, by the way — was really young, no more than two or three weeks old.

And that baby, cute as he was, was WAILING.

The mommy was behind the wheel and was gesturing wildly and desperately at her husband in the passenger seat. He was digging frantically through the diaper bag, throwing out stuff left and right, no doubt looking for a pacifier or possibly a small toy.

They were pretty freaked out.

I totally remember those days. I smiled, because they’re behind me now. Don’t worry, freaked-out mom and dad — you’ll figure it all out, in time. Your baby may be pissed right this second but he is actually a-okay, and will be just fine. In fact, everything is going to be just fine.

I must admit that as Little Miss Sunshine approaches her first birthday, I am getting a little wistful for the babies, although incidents like this make me realise all over again that I am oh-so-happy to be all finished. Still, I have a small amount of sadness that we are saying goodbye to the baby phase of our lives, and moving on to new things.

Lately it seems like everyone we know is having a third baby. Ten years or so ago, everyone had exactly two kids — no more, no less — or so it seemed to me. Now it seems like at least half of the kids in Gal Smiley’s preschool class are, or soon will be, one of three. It’s so common now, actually, that we’ve been asked many times if we are going to have a fourth. I guess “four” is the new “three.”

When we’re asked if we’re having a fourth, I do pause. But I know we’re at the max now. All the bedrooms are full, so we’re done.

Time for new and exciting things.