When I Grow Up

Today is my 35th birthday. I don't feel old enough to be this old. I feel like a kid playing dress-up in some other grown-up's life a lot of the time.

But it's true. I am a grown-up. I have a kid, a husband, a house, a dog. I drive a sensible car in a sensible color. I flip first to the obituaries in the newspaper. I get annoyed by stains. I find myself regularly turning down the radio or TV because I think it's too loud. I smell melons before I buy them. I really, really enjoy cardigan sweaters.

So, yes, I am 35. There's no dancing around it anymore.

I can't stop listening to this song today, which is pretty appropriate. I love this band, and although I didn't set out to listen to a "birthday" song over and over again, it just sort of happened. If you're not familar with First Aid Kit, this is my birthday gift to you.

Taking the Cake

Benjamin devoured a chunk of cake at his party yesterday (surprise, surprise, Mr. 73rd Percentile for Weight).

And our living room now looks like Toys 'R Us, thanks to our very generous friends and family.

Next project? Converting part of the lower level of the house into a playroom.