I just received the neatest happy birthday messages on my answering machine. "Who still uses an answering machine," you might ask? We do!
I'm 36. I'm psyched. I love 36 - it is rockin' so far. I swam laps and did handstands at the pool, ate lunch and painted pottery with my dear friend Stacia, got a pedicure (red, please), went to the chiropractor, and soon will be heading out to dinner with my loving husband who I am sure got me a smashing gift for my big day.
Why am I so excited about 36? Because it is not 35! Thirty-five is the cursed age for women who would love to have a baby. It's classified as "Advanced Maternal Age." Well, I was, but now I'm not. I am no longer 35, so I am no longer AMA, IMHO. It's liberating.
No adoption news. We've been officially in the pool for one month. Time keeps flowing by and we're going with the flow.
Here comes my present - gotta go!