The last year in the twenties.

We celebrated Dallas' 29th birthday last Friday.  I think 29 is young, but Dallas is having an I-can't-believe-I'm-almost-thirty-I'm-getting-so-old moment.  He did admit that he'd rather be thirty than twenty again, so he's not totally in denial or in the pits of depression.  That's a good thing.

We partied his way- at home.  No people.  No plans.  Just our family of four plus one dog, some incredible Alfredo made by yours truly, an early bedtime for the kids and a movie for the grown ups.  Although I would prefer a little more fanfare than this, I will admit it was nice to sit around after a pretty crazy week.

Dallas' sister Sierra and brother-in-law Seth showed up on Saturday to deliver some goods (beds for the kids and a table for the preschool I'm opening up next fall), so we went to Grandma Kaiserman's to blow out some birthday candles.

I love this man.  He is positively the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.