This weekend was a birthday weekend. Last year during Adam’s birthday, I was in my first trimester of pregnancy. I slept a minimum of eleven hours a night and subsisted on little more than oranges and toast. This year, I baked Adam’s cake during naptime and we toted Reed along to brunch with Adam’s parents. Afterward, my husband requested the two of us get a coffee all by ourselves. We did, and it was wonderful.
Twenty-six. I like the number. It seems warm and fun and steady. I expressed this to Adam, and he said that he prefers twenty-five. Either way, it is fun to watch him turn another year older. So very very fun. I love him and like him, and I am glad he is alive and growing older.