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" JD is everywhere. His ducks are in the tub, his stroller is stored in the vestibule and the bottles are drying in the dishwasher. My heels are collecting dust in the closet. Just this morning, I found a pacifier in my sheets and my tank top smells like formula. There is spit-up in my hair. My best friend got engaged in Aruba over the weekend. I am happy for her, but it made me think if I&amp;#x27;ll ever get to wear a white dress and spend hours agonizing over flowers and menus and music. When I think of my future I do imagine a husband (at least an exclusive guy)--a father for JD and babies (more babies). Sometimes I just see JD and I. I&amp;#x27;m dipping his teeny toes in the ocean, I&amp;#x27;m bandaging a scraped knee, I&amp;#x27;m cutting up his food at a sidewalk cafe in New York City, then we&amp;#x27;re off to the MOMA to stare wide-eyed at exhibits and run around Central Park until we&amp;#x27;re too tired to play and laugh anymore. The image changes, but one thing remains. No matter what, JD and I are happy. Happy. Content. Safe. The gears shifted suddenly and without warning. My new life is different, not to say better than what it was. I sometimes miss sipping strawberry martinis with Nic at Pravda (a bar in NYC), I do lust after sleep--just sleep, I&amp;#x27;m even a little work-deprived (I&amp;#x27;ll be on maternity-leave from my FT job until Jan &amp;#x27;08). The guy situation? The most action I&amp;#x27;ve seen has been from Glamour blogger, Mike Cherico--he lives in LA. On the other bottle-clenched hand, I never imagined this tiny person could reinvent me and he has. JD satisfies me. Nothing compares. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/blogs/storked/2007/09/me-and-jd>