I'm thirty.

My birthday was on Thursday, and Bob took me (and Owen) out to dinner. We went to a restaurant/bar downtown that we'd never been to together (I'd been once before, for a girls' night out, for drinks -- except that I was pregnant at the time, so my drink was Diet Coke), and we had a really nice time. Perhaps, though, it was odd timing to sit and discuss our life insurance policies. Sorry. My bad, Bob. But our State Farm office had called that morning to tell me about a new option, so it was fresh in my mind.

Hey, I know! It's my birthday, so let's talk about life insurance and funerals!

Whoops.

Bob had really talked up my birthday with the kids, and Caroline has been super-sweet about it. She keeps writing me love notes, and making me "presents" (like one of her books, wrapped in a napkin), and paying me compliments.

On another note, I am SICK of pregnancy weight. I didn't lose all the weight after Will was born, so I started this pregnancy a little heavier. That means I have 1 1/2 pregnancies' worth of weight to lose, and it is a burden. Yuck. So I'm setting a goal for myself, like I did after Lucy was born. I ran a marathon when she was six months old. But this time, I just plan to run a half-marathon. The side benefit, of course, is the weight loss. I've gone for three runs so far (on my bargain treadmill in the basement), and I feel simultaneously like I'm in better and worse shape than I thought. The running is hard work, but I can run more than I expected, right off the bat.

So the goal is to run the Carmel Half-Marathon on June 11. It will feel more official once I register, but I'm excited already.