Anytime a parent gets wistful about her kids, that is God’s cue to make something happen so they’re not wistful anymore. Last night we not only had all three kids in our bed, we had them up and down and in and out all evening and all night long, and it was the worst night of sleep I’ve had in a long time. I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice to say it involved a toddler who hadn’t napped and a six-year-old who’d lost a baby tooth AND had a case of the barfs, both of whom parked their asses in our bed by 6:30 p.m. and didn’t move.

Until the dead of night, that is. And there is NO reason to stay up for hours like a visit from the Tooth Fairy.

I’m catatonic. Here is the backlash for not having your babies wake you up in the night: they just do it when they get older, instead.