Birthday Eve

Yesterday when Ben came in from day care, he rushed into the kitchen and said, "Mommy, mommy, I got you a present!" He was jumping up and down and started to tell me what it was, but I put my hands over my ears.

Tomorrow I turn 31. Last year, turning 30 precipitated a crisis (since I hadn't met my goal of publishing a novel in my twenties), but 31 seems much more relaxed. I still have 9 more years to publish a novel in my thirties, so there's no rush. It's a little odd to be firmly "in my thirties," though.

Tom laughs at me because I still have a girlish love of presents. The first round arrived yesterday, including this clever shirt from Alia:



I couldn't resist opening it, which works out well since I have ballet class today. (In case you have trouble interpreting the picture, it's a shirt that can only be read looking in the mirror.)

This year is fun because Ben (who insists his birthday is in "Geguary") is just as excited as I am. He starts bouncing a little when he talks about the chocolate cake and ice cream he's going to eat tomorrow.