31 is the new 25. At least in my mind.

This picture has nothing to do with anything, other than
I felt like I needed something to break up all of the words.
It's from mine and Chris' first anniversary backpacking
trip.  Five years ago.

So today is my birthday.

To celebrate I had an almost-stale lemon cupcake left over from Sebastian's party.

And while I normally don't feel as old as super old dirt, today I do. 

That doesn't really have anything to do with the fact that I turned 31, and so am well 'in my 30s' now. It's because I woke up at 2:30 last night and couldn't go back to sleep because as I've said before, my brain is an asshole. 

But whatever.

Today I am trying hard to keep my eyes open and at least pretend to have a small amount of energy to keep up with the wild heathens I call my children.

It's not working so well.

So if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go lie down while the youngest is napping and the oldest is occupied by television.

As a consolation for me not writing anything even remotely funny or even possibly coherent, here's the post I wrote last year for my birthday. 

I had a Cougar Party.  It was magnificent.  I'd love to have another party like that but we don't have a specific reason other than Chris graduating school in a month, but he says it's too much work to throw a party so he doesn't want to do it.

For being six months older than me, he's really old, you know?

(If you read this, Chris, I didn't mean it!)

(I totally did.)