Things are busy here this week. M remained on Arizona time until last night, so she wasn't going to bed until 10:00 pm (though, curiously, she was getting up at her usual east coast time). So we've been sleep-deprived. And I've been frantically preparing for the huge playgroup birthday party we're hosting here this weekend (yes, in a fit of madness, I agreed to host 14 kids, their parents and some of their grandparents for a huge birthday party that was supposed to take the place of individual parties for each kid).
And then, of course, there's this overwhelming wave of nostalgia that's knocking me around. A year ago right now, I was in labor. In about 8 hours, it'll be M's birth moment. I can't believe that my tiny little baby, who at one point weighed less than six pounds, is now the sturdy, huge little girl who's currently nagging me to show her photos of her best friend (the only good use, as far as she can tell, for this computer I insist on sitting in front of all the time). Two years ago, she couldn't even stay awake for more than an hour. Now, she runs and jumps and sings songs and climbs everything in sight and talks in paragraphs. It's been an amazing trip, and I'm so glad I'm on it.
In other news, the Boy and I decided to face reality and have started the IVF ball rolling. If we can get everything done that we need to do (and if our changing healthy insurance plans don't muck things up), we could start a cycle as early as the first week of January. I'm both incredibly excited and utterly terrified.
Anyway, that's all from here. I have to go run around with this crazy two-year-old.