Speaking of birthdays…seven birthday parties in nine days, you guys. Seven. Do you know how much birthday cake that is?!?! Do you know how much birthday-cake-fat weighs?!?! Yeah, I didn’t either until I just stepped on a scale. Ugh. Soooo muuuuuch caaaaake. And before you suggest that I “just don’t eat the cake,” let me remind you how much self-control I have: none. Nada. Zip. So yeah, um, I’m just gonna go ahead and claim that it’s all still “pregnancy weight” and “breastfeeding weight.” Because yeah. Did I mention that three of those birthdays were in our own household? That’s a lot of party planning. And leftover cake within easy reach. Oy vey.

But yes, because I know you were dying to know, my thirtieth birthday was delightful. There was much wine and chocolate (and cake) involved. I got a pretty new dress. I saw friends. I ate good food. Yes, I would say my thirties are starting off nicely. As long as this rate of wine and chocolate is maintained (but not the cake. Good lord, no more cake.) I think I’ll really enjoy this decade.