I turned 41 this week. The strangest part about it for me is that my mom was 41 when she gave birth to me, and so the number has always held a certain significance. The story of my mom's age at my birth was always followed by awkward exclamations of "Oh my GOD! She was so old!!!", "That was so risky back then!" and the always wince-worthy - "Oh! You could have been mentally challenged."
Sooo, like I was saying, I turned 41 this week.
My day was spent in West Marin with the kids, a childhood friend and her daughter, and on a beautiful beach. My girlfriend brought me a shoebox filled with goodies from her garden - veggies, eggs, jam and flowers set in a Staus milk bottle. :) It was just about as perfect as a day could be (without getting a nap in around 3pm).
When we met up with Daddy for dinner, we walked down to the Saltwater restaurant and took part in their pizza night. We had one of each: Hog Island Oyster Pie, House Smoked Pork Chop Pie, and my *fravorite* - Table Top Patty Pan Squash. After dinner we each had a piece of cake that tasted so ridiculously good going down, we were unable to stop when experience told us we should. Unfortunately, reality kicked in fifteen minutes later, and we all crawled into bed with stomach aches. Some of you know exactly who's cake I'm talking about. Gotta love 'em, but you gotta stop after the first bite!!