I woke up this morning at about 6:30, thanks to the cries of my sweet little boy, who thought it was past time to get out of bed. We played and checked out the Easter basket and cuddled (aka me trying to hug on Cale as he frantically tries to get away) and watched cartoons before I remembered that it was my birthday. It's funny how birthdays change as we get older. When we're young, we begin counting down the days, months prior to a birthday. We dream about the day, the party, the presents, the friends. We anticipate being that next, always more appealing, number. And when we're young, no number is ever big enough. Nowadays, I often have to stop and think about how old I am. "Is it 25 or 26?" Then the mental math begins... "Let's see, I was born in '84, so..." I'm not kidding. Is my subconscious trying to tell me something?

Twenty-six doesn't bother me too badly. I guess I'm not in my early twenties anymore, but I'm still in the twenty-somethings, right? Oh the twenties, only to be followed by the dreadful thirties. I have four more years to hold on before I have to let go. On the way to church this morning, my husband leaned over, pointed to the front of his hair, which is gradually becoming speckled with salt and pepper, and informed me that I should enjoy it while it lasts because this is what I have to look forward to. Little does he know, I actually already have occassional grays (can you call it occassional if you find one almost every time you look?) that pop up every now and then. Every now and then...ahem..that's what I keep telling myself. Unlike my husband, I'm not too proud to do something about it. Thank you hair dye. And mother-in-laws who are hairdressers! And second graders that are not afraid to tell you when you have those unsightly, or so you thought, pesky gray hairs.

After church today, and nursery duty, we decided to reward ourselves with some Mexican food. Then, we went off to work on our house while my sister watched Cale.




So, the outside of our house is finally finished, more or less. In some ways it's seems like 'building time' has flown by, but in other ways it seems like we'll never be finished. I guess I'm really wishy-washy that way. Sometimes I think building a house hasn't been bad at all; not nearly as daunting or worrisome as I had tried to prepare myself for it to be (of course, if you ask my Dad or Carl, they might have a different outlook since they're the ones doing most of the work!) But, then other days it seems like building a house is going to push us to the breaking point! Overall it's been a very exciting experience; driving up every few days, excited about what changes have been made. Hopefully only 5 more weeks and we can begin getting Cale accustomed to his new home. It's so exciting to think about moving into the home that will house so many memories for us. Our kids will grow up in this home. They will loose their first tooth, wait for the Easter Bunny, start kindergarten, play t-ball, listen for Santa, have slumber parties, talk on the phone way too late at night, have their first crush, get their hearts broken, graduate high school...all in this house. I can understand why some people never want to leave the house their children grow up in. So many memories.