35 Years Old ... Really?

I turned 35 years old almost a month ago and I realize now that I didn't write about it. I usually do. There are two facts that I could point to for an explanation. First off, I have a really great new job that I've been at for a few months and I love it quite a bit. It's keeping me pretty busy, but it's a very good sort of busy. It's more responsibility than I've ever had and it suits me. I find myself looking forward to the day each morning. I plan to keep that up too.

The other possible reason is that I didn't really think it was a very big deal. IIRC, I was more actively dreading and equally excited about my 30^th birthday.

This year, I'm more excited about the kids' birthdays. Sam turned one in December of last year and is now a moving little dervish, destroying all in his path. Reese turns 12 in May and Olivia turns nine in November. It's only March now, but we've had some pretty amazing and exciting things happen so far this year. I could write a million words on these things but I'll post some quick notes instead. Reese did a science fair project with a potato cannon! Lisa entered into a "Biggest Loser" contest at her work, but was already losing weight rapidly. I'm more than a little jealous. Sam likes to dance, and does so whenever there is music. Olivia reads voraciously now, just like her sister. My nieces and nephews are also growing so very quickly lately, with birthdays year-round.

It feels very good to write. I should be doing this more often. I am writing pretty regularly at work, but this is more personal.