This morning I was talking to my mother about birthdays, and my birthday which is coming up in two weeks, and I mentioned that I just can't believe I'm going to turn 29. Because I've been 29 this whole past year. And then I reminded her that every time I need to put down my age for something I either have to do math or call her to ask. I can't be the only person in the world like this.

Age used to be so important to me. Once I hit 22, though, I stopped paying attention. There were always more important things to deal with, to do, and I was finally old enough to be legal to do all of them. So. I'm going to turn 29 again this year. I can deal with that. I just don't know if I can deal with having it come up so quickly.

Since Tiffany came home from the NICU, life has been surreal around here. Days blur together. Holidays are only noted by the commercials I see on tv. Weekends? Who knows about weekends? I only could keep track of the days of the week because of my appointment book. Now that's calmed down a bit I have so much more motivation to get off my ass and really be a Mommy. There was only one appointment in my book all this past week. And she came to the house. I love it. I love it so much that I changed the sheets on my bed and made it. I love it so much that I'm having groceries delivered tonight for the entire next month, minus milk and bread. This is going to be wonderful. When I wake up tomorrow all I have to do is play with my daughter in the sunshine. Same for Sunday. Same for Monday. I could cry, I'm so happy about that.