I've been chasing butterflies in the park with my son.
I've been tapering and then running a half marathon (1:26:22 for those that care).
I've been visiting with old friends and their special babies.
I've been trying trying trying to convince my baby girl that she really likes the bottle better than the boob and failing.
I've been hoping as I tuck my little boy into bed that he'll say "Lay down to me" and sighing as I walk away because he no longer asks.
I've been trying to get myself accustomed to waking up early in the morning, putting on my make-up, and heading into the office.
I've been preparing for our big trip to Iceland (woot! woot!).
I've been feeling like a failure at work and wondering how I managed to let the past 12 years of my professional life slip away without REALLY figuring out what I want to do.
I've been studying for the GRE's and doing informational interviews with people.
I've been enjoying lots of time with my husband.
I've been so happy.
I've felt so insecure.
I've wanted to write.
I've wanted to comment on other people's blogs.
I've been trying to wrap my head around IVF again.
I've been drinking too much wine and eating too much peanut butter.
I've been cherishing my beautiful, amazing miracle baby and missing each passed day as she gets older.
