I'm 35 today.
It was a quiet birthday. I slept a little later than normal this morning. The kids had been up for an hour making cards out of construction paper and stickers. They sang "Happy Birthday" and we had chocolate cake for breakfast together. I normally don't eat breakfast, but I make exception when there is chocolate cake.
I worked until lunchtime, then ate lunch while watching Attack of the Show, which has become my daily retreat into geekdom. I wasn't feeling well, so I took a nap and a rather large poop, both of which helped.
This evening Kristen took me to the Terrapin Cantina, a Mexican Restaurant about 30 minutes up the road.
It was quiet, but important. Today was day one of the next 17 years. I measure my life in blocks of 17 years. The first 17 were lived for my parents. The second 17 were lived for myself. The current 17 will be dedicated to my children.
It isn't arbitrary. Perhaps tomorrow night I'll explain. It's getting late, and I'm trying to digest my Mexican food.