Gray area

Yesterday we took Luke to Kits beach and went on the swings and the slide. He loved it, which means that we loved it too.
I also turned 35 yesterday, and it was the first time that I actually felt like I'm getting old. That might be because I also found --and promptly plucked-- four or five gray hairs. My salty-headed husband didn't have any sympathy whatsoever, and even muttered something about noticing the gray ones a while ago. But for me, it was an unwelcome discovery on my 35th.

Even with the gray discovery we had a really nice day until 5:50 pm when our babysitter called in sick 45 minutes before the dinner reservation that Keith had planned with a lot of thought and effort. We were REALLY looking forward to going out to dinner alone and were, as you might imagine, very disappointed when she called. It also opened a can of worms about whether or not the sitter is reliable enough to leave our son with (she's the one who watches Luke two afternoons a week and we've only known her for two weeks). I was giving her the benefit of the doubt... Keith thought we should fire her right away.

So, I pouted for a while. And Keith --still fuming-- got right to the work of finding some decent takeout.
In the meantime, he wouldn't tell me where we were planning to go because he didn't want to fuel the disappointment. We really enjoy going out for a nice meal on special occasions (a very rare treat since June 7th), so I'm sure it would have been an excellent time.

In the midst of it all, I was reflecting on my birthday last year when I was halfway through my pregnancy and nervous...so, so hoping everything would go ok.
That's why I quickly stopped pouting about a few gray hairs and a missed dinner date and decided to enjoy being a healthy, lucky, happy mid-30s gal eating pretty good takeout with my guys.