Birth/Father's Day

Do you ever have a startling moment where you pause and think, "Wow, when did I get so old?"

It happened to me on Saturday, the day before I was to turn 31. And 30 felt great, by the way. I was in shape, and had a new baby and glowing skin. Things were perfect. 31 was another story. I reached down to pick Milo up from his crib in the morning, and as I did, my neck popped, pain washed over my body, and I felt... old. How was I supposed to turn 31 the next day with a stiff neck, pubescent-style breakout, and a few stubborn pounds around the middle?

And yet, Sunday morning dawned bright as ever, and it was my birthday, like it or not. And it was also Father's Day. My mom reminded me that when I was little, I didn't like sharing my birthday with Father's Day (no one ever said I wasn't a little bratty). And then after my dad passed away, I absolutely hated sharing my birthday with Father's Day. This year wasn't so bad, though, considering I was sharing with Nate, who is at least somewhat responsible for making Milo, so I could let the sharing slide.

We had an amazing and low-key day, even though I'm now officially in my thirties (no more dancing around it). I got to spend time with most of my family (and I need you to come home now, Danty-pants) and be treated like a princess, even though I'm far too old for all that.

Anyway, here's my little man in his Father's Day outfit. Just wanted to remind Nate that he has quite the fan club around our house.


Milo spent the day in his SuperDad shirt.



Yes, it has a cape.



He was so serious every time I tried to take a picture!

Birthday girl and her babyson.



Daddy and Milo, both giggling about something unknown to me.