Given the ridiculous amount of thought and energy we put into celebrating our Littles over the course of the year, it’s often hard for The Hubs and me to care all that much about our own significant events.  As such, we thought we’d keep it simple this past week when Yours Truly turned the ripe old age of 29+1+1+1+1+1+1.

(Don’t worry yourself with the math.  Though the Little Miss still adamantly asserts that her Mama is “only 15,” which I find a whole lot more appealing…Just so long as assuming said age does not also require the return of braces and pimples).

In an unexpected twist of fate, however, Nena was able to come down for the weekend to celebrate with us.  That meant oodles of attention (and patience) for the Littles and date nights (and freedom!) for the Birthday Girl and my Red Headed Sidekick.  Hooray for us!

Despite the fact that I was turning the-age-that-must-not-be-named, I could not help but feel jolly from all of the love showered upon me by friends, family, and my three Little Elves.

Otherwise known as…

Happy, Sweetie,

and Grumpy.
(a.k.a. Sassy, Cheeky, or Drive-Mama-Nuts-y)

(And yet also and always…my Little Lovey)

The Little Miss gave me the best birthday gift of all by NOT coming down with the stomach flu (as she did on my birthday last year).  Any party without throw-up is a winner in my book.

So there you have it, folks.  This broke-down Mama is yet another year older.

And oh so blessed.