Yes, you all know that I turned 30 on Tuesday. A big celebration was had by all. I spent the better part of the day wiping runny noses and eating carrot cake. Our family got together on Sunday to celebrate my grandmother's 88th birthday and my 30th. BJ bought a 1/4 sheet carrot cake, my favorite. We ate about half of the cake on Sunday and, lucky me, the rest came home with us. Between Monday afternoon and today I have managed to eat more than my fair share of carrot cake. When we brought it home I scraped off a cup and a half of excess icing (and froze it for later consumption), so at least that's not going to my hips just yet. But, really, this birthday will be memorable to me because of the massive amounts of carrot cake I have ingested. It's quite sad.
BJ had class all day yesterday (he left at 7:30 am and got back at 10:15 at night) so I just spent the day with the kids, just like every other day. Toby wasn't feeling great so we watched mass quantities of tv while snuggling under blankets. We ate Wendy's for lunch at a local park. (I opened my birthday gifts from my parents in the drive-through. Who was I kidding thinking I could wait until we got home to open them???) I chickened out, yet again, on asking a mother of young children for her number to arrange a play date. What is my problem?? This has to be the worst one yet because she had three year old twin boys--how perfect would that be for Toby to play with?
Now I'm 30, probably 5 pounds heavier (an unintentional side effect of the gift from my husband I'm sure), and I feel like my joints are creaking and snapping every time I walk. Good thing I still have a 20-something husband to keep me feeling young.
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