35 is rough, man. Advanced maternal age.
Thankfully I was feeling well enough on the actual day of my birthday to go to the Melting Pot with friends. The week before, I went to Nikolai's Rooftop with some girlfriends. It is nice getting out, dressing up, wearing dangly earrings, and coming home late to kids already in bed, compliments of my wonderful husband.
A few days after my birthday, we celebrated at home. Evan blew out my birthday candles. So, we re-lit and tried again.
I've blown out three sets of candles in the last week. I wished for a baby for 2 out of the 3. Then as soon as the candles were out, I thought "are you insane?!?" Both kids are now daytime potty trained, sleeping in their own beds all night, and I can leave the house carrying only a cute, teeny, tiny purse. Our days aren't scheduled around naps (mostly), and they can (mostly) follow directions. Do I really want to upset that balance? On my third time blowing out the candles, I wished for everything to stay the same. I don't know what I want.
