One year older, one year closer to "old fogey" status.

***Disclaimer: I'm not sure why this says I wrote it on April 27th, which is my actual birthday. I wrote it on Monday the 28th***

So yesterday was my birthday *insert 12 people wishing me a happy birthday because they either didn't know or forgot, which is fine*. I turned 27, which is okay, but really just way too close to 30 for my liking. For some reason, 30 is my scary age. I'm very aware of my mortality, and since I don't know yet what I believe about an afterlife, getting closer to dying scares me (not that 30 is THAT close, it's just a lot closer than, say, 20 was). My logical side says there's no afterlife, when you're dead, you're dead, and my hopeful, spiritual side says there has to be an afterlife, because 80-100 years on this earth isn't nearly long enough, and only 58-78 years being married to my husband won't even begin to be enough. Who knows what's out there, really, though. It's not like anyone ever died and came back all excited and exclaimed, "Dude, you have GOT to see this shit!" So really, none of us are "right," we're all just making guesses.

Anyway, back to my birthday. It was wonderful, as usual. Friday Brian and I had dinner at Johnny's Italian Steakhouse (mostly because we had a giftcard left over from Christmas. I would have been perfectly content with Texas Roadhouse, though Johnny's was better). It was great. I had a warm spinach salad that I've been craving ever since. *drool*

Sunday my mom and dad had the whole family over for tacos and red cake and crepes (Sidenote: when my mom called and asked, "What would you rather have for your birthday, red cake or crepes?" My response was, "Um, I can't make that decision, it's too hard," so she made both. Because my mom rocks). Patrick and Cara drove down from Cedar Rapids with Frances and Chayse to celebrate my birthday, which was just so sweet of them. Frances had called me earlier in the day, and said, "Hi, Aunt Cortney. Happy birthday to YOU!" Cracked me up. I love that kid.

So it was a great day. I now weigh 10 pounds more than I did before my birthday, but oh well. Last year I lost four pounds the weekend of my birthday, but not the correct way. Just an FYI: Don't do three shots of Rumplemints within 30 minutes after already having had about four beers, even if you THINK you're saving your baby sister by taking away that last shot and drinking it for her. It just ends up with you puking on your bedroom carpet, and while the weightloss is nice, feeling like being run over by a fleet of semis and then sitting through "Cats" would make you feel better is just plain bad. Oh, and it was about 90 degrees outside and our air-conditioning was broken so it was about 90 degrees in our house, which always makes a hangover even more pleasurable. This year was much better. No hangovers, and lots of time with family and good friends.

Here are a few pictures from my mom and dad's house. It was pretty warm in there, so that's why I'm in a tank top the whole time. Also, I kind of look like a freak, so just ignore that. The kids are cute:

Patrick & Chayse:

Cara & Me:

Frances & Me:

My dad and Bryn:

Halle, seeming to express to Uncle Brian that unless he has a snack or some playdough, he can shove the camera -- er, please stop taking pictures of her....

Halle & Frances saying goodbye. They really are buddies, despite the annoyed look on Frances' face. I think that's a result of my asking them to do the hug again because I wasn't quick enough with my camera:


Bryn. She loves being held up in the air. I don't know if it's because she's a daredevil, or if I just look REALLY funny from up there. I'm leaning toward "daredevil," mostly to make myself feel better:

Bryn & Me:

There's also a hilarious one of Halle sitting on the toilet with a magazine (she's just about potty-trained), but I'm going to leave that one out just for her sake, even though she's only 2 and won't know the difference. I'm such a good aunt.