As I type this, I am sitting in the chair that will be my bed, my prison, my refuge for the next several months. We had it on loan to friends for the last year, and I have to wonder if ushering this chair out of the house brought the wave of nostalgia that tricked me into wanting another baby (well, and Tully and Solly, those rascals).
So here I sit. By myself. For now.