I don’t know why, but I always feel a little misty when I come home from hanging out with girlfriends.  Maybe it’s the year that’s passed by in a blink, maybe it’s the lifetime of memories we left behind in Chicago, maybe it’s the thankfulness I feel to be loved and supported by so many wonderful women out there…whatever it is…I’m grateful for the time away to just be myself.  That girl…the one that exists apart from motherhood. Ella turns two on Thursday.  I wish I could say I have better memories of her birth…sadly, the murkiness of post-partum does a pretty good job of clouding those up. What I do know about birthdays is that I am often reflective – and this one is kind of major because Charlie turned two about two months before Ella was born – which would mean I would be about 8 months pregnant right now if we had decided to have a third baby on the same time frame. If you’ve been reading this blog for awhile, you’d know that where a third child is concerned, I am often conflicted.  Vann and I have been blessed with an easy road as far as fertility goes.  I am completely and totally aware and grateful for this.  I came from a family of three siblings, so for me, having a third seems like a very normal progression – in the sense that someone is still “missing” from our family. Where I am hung up is in the area of my selfishness. I like my wine. I’ve worked my butt off all summer and finally have a body I am excited to dress for a night out.  I love “shopping” in my closet.  Seriously, this is a first for me, post-children.  Pregnancy is not easy.  Your body is not your own.  Having a third baby affects the rhythm of our daily life. It affects sleep. It requires a bigger car, the switching of bedrooms, starting over. 12 weeks of morning sickness so bad you lose 10 pounds because you literally can’t eat anything other than Super Pretzels, stretch marks, leaky boobs, less control of your bladder (you all know I’m right).  Yikes.  Am I really ready to go down this road again?? And yet, I turn 34 in the spring.  So – NOT that 34 is old – my beautiful and savvy 40 year old friends, this is for you – I see you having a life again after you drop your kiddos off at “real school” and I’m jealous.  Part of me looks forward to that independence – to having “my” time back.  To nurturing myself again.  So there’s the conundrum.  And to be honest, I haven’t fully figured it out yet.  The jury is still out. For now, I’m going to enjoy this second glass of Pinot Noir and my new jeans and think about it another day.  And enjoy and celebrate my baby girl who is turning two.  Because she deserves my full attention today.