I just went to City Hall, a wonderfully strange and retro place, to pick up my third child's birth certificate. He's now five months old. This made me laugh, because when my first was born I was at City Hall on his tenth day -- the first day they would allow me to pick up a copy.
It was very nostalgic this time. I'm a pro at picking up birth certificates by now -- I know exactly which hallway I need to go to, and I also know where to pay. Then again, I'm pretty sure this is the last time I'll be picking up a birth certificate for one of my children. That feels sad but also, liberating.