If you are a new reader, I wrote a post two years ago that went like this:
I was just reminiscing with a girlfriend the other day. We used to live in the same apartment building when we were both first married… us on the 5th floor, her on the 4th. And boy was it fun! We all worked hard during the week and partied on the weekends. We slept in till ungodly hours with no distractions. We hung out smoking in each other’s apartments, watching movies, chilling with friends. It was the life… except… we didn’t appreciate it. We desperately wanted to get pregnant and settle in, trading late night partying for late night bottle feedings.