Well, I'm 34 now. So far it doesn't feel much different than 33. It doesn't seem too much different than 33. Now when I hit 35, that just screams middle age. My wonderful husband got me a pillow. My poor pillows were in such sad shape. I hardly washed the pillow cases because the pillows had rips and feathers would go everywhere. But they were very comfortable squishy pillows and I couldn't find any that I liked. This seems like it will do the job quite nicely, thank you very much.
I'm not feeling all that philosophical about this birthday. Yeah, I never imagined myself with a son going into second grade, a daughter going into first, getting ready to potty train another kid, and a walking baby that I worry about not eating. I never imagined being crazy enough to be leading a Brownie troop, MOPS discussion group, and having a job in the PTA. If 34 is like 33, I'm going to have a great year.
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