Birthdays

This year I turned 23. 

Twenty three.

The big two-three.

I'm still in shock that I am only 23. I have been married for 3 years, I have a son who is closer to being one than I care to admit, and I am graduating from college in two short months. 

Thank you to everyone who took a minute to wish me a happy birthday. I'm not going to lie, this year was rough. It wasn't the existential crises of growing older, getting fatter, or realizing that I haven't accomplished what I wanted to in a year (New Years resolutions are enough of a pity party). This was the first year that I didn't have my family alongside me to celebrate. It was sad to not have Henry trying to rip my presents open for me and not having my mother take cheesy photos of me holding up all of my gifts. I've absolutely missed them since they have moved away. 

So really, thank you if you thought of me at all that day. I needed all of the positive vibes I somehow got.

My sweetheart took me snowmobiling for my birthday. There is nothing quite like trying to drive a snowmobile through an endless forest of white when you've forgotten your glasses - trust me. It was absolutely perfect though; there was just enough time to keep the adrenaline pumping and not get lost.