I'm... gads, how old am I?

There was a time when I thought I'd never lose track.  That was, oh-- before I hit the mid-twenties. 

Now I'm in my late twenties and.. gawd, that can't be right.  Am I really (*counts on fingers*) 29?

(This may sound pathetic, but I had to write down all the years between my birthdate and now to come up with that number...)

I guess I'd better start acting my age.

And before anybody gets on me about not telling when my birthday is, I am someone who feels vaguely squirmy and embarrassed about birthdays.  I felt the same way at my wedding-- 'all eyes on me' is not the area of the world that I want to be in.

Plus, now I'm old.  I think I'm forgetting about it semi-deliberately, like this morning before I left to take the other half of the boards.  I was lying on the floor playing with puppets with Roo, and Mike walked in and said, "Sing Mommy happy birthday."

Roo didn't, but I suddenly realised that yeah, hey, it IS my birthday today.

Tah-dah!  Brilliant, I know.

In other news, I don't want to talk about the boards.  They're over, at least temporarily.  And done with.

And I got a call from a pediatrician with that group in St. Cloud, the group I really want to work with.  I think I acquited myself fairly well, considering that Mike kept turning the volume up on the TV accidentally, by kicking it with his foot.

That's the news from the Geriatric Home of Chaos in Minnesota.