I have been alive for 35 years. Hooray! Yesterday, I think I ate a cupcake for every year of my life...at least, that's what it feels like.
I'm not thrilled about the age 35, but I'm reminding myself how young it will seem in a few more years. This same rule applies to my boys, who will be 9 tomorrow. NINE. As in, nearly a decade. Where does the time go?
Tonight, I will celebrate with my family. On Friday, I will eat a fancy dinner that you can only justify when you or someone you love is celebrating a milestone.
Tomorrow, the boys will bring treats to school. On Saturday, they will have six of their (not so) little friends over and we'll eat lots more cake. Then I have to leave for Boston for four days for work. :(
The next weekend is Father's Day and then two days later is my husband's birthday.
Yesterday I was 34 and had 8 year-olds. Tomorrow I'll be 35 with 9 year-olds.
And that is where the time goes. Did you hear the whooshing?
1 comment:
35 is not at all old unless you intend to die at 36.
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