I turned 29 on Sunday. I can hardly bear to say it. In fact, last night, I told a guy I was 28. Simon very kindly waited till he walked away to correct me. (He’s just being smug because he won’t be 29 until May.)
The good news is that my boys – as usual – made my birthday weekend so lovely.
We drove down to Simon’s aunt’s house on the south coast Friday morning, stopping halfway at my in-laws’ for a cup of tea and a chance to stretch our legs (and change Adlai’s diaper).
My little nugget fell asleep just in time for us to get back in the car, but his British grandpa got a chance to have a little snuggle.
On Saturday, we took a walk through the coastal town (and one of my favorites in England) of Chichester. We forgot the adaptors for the car seat to fit into our stroller legs, so it was Simon’s turn to carry Adlai in the Baby Bjorn, and my turn to take the photos.
We had coffee and lunch in town, then a lovely dinner and a bottle of wine (after Adlai went to bed, of course) back at our house.
Sunday morning, on my actual birthday, I woke up to the sounds of a bubble bath being run for me and Adlai cooing in his pack-n-play – I’m pretty sure he was singing Happy Birthday to me.
I took a bath while Simon got Adlai up and dressed, and when I came downstairs I saw a familiar sight.
My baby is so good at cards. This one read:
Thank you for changing my stinky diapers. Thank you for making me laugh.
My favorite thing about this?
The usage of the American word for diapers instead of “nappies.” Thanks sweet pea.
After my card and yummy coffee, we took a walk on the beach.
See that beautiful sunshine? It lasted about five minutes before the gray returned.
Ah well, I take what I can get.