How Many Is That?

That's the question Rex asked me a few weeks ago when it was my birthday. He asked "how many" I was. I told him I was thirty. He looked at his fingers quizzically and asked me, "How many is that?" I told him it was all of his fingers, all of my fingers, and all of his toes. He thought I was kidding! He just said, "Silly mommy, that's too many!" Ha! Honestly, aging doesn't bother me. It's better than the alternative. But I have to admit- I was a little taken aback at the makeup counter in Nordstrom recently when the make-up technician told me she was adding a free sample of eye wrinkle cream into my bag for me to try. Wrinkle cream!?! Are you kidding me!?! I'm not sure which upset me more- the fact that she thinks I need wrinkle cream, or the fact that no amount of wrinkle cream is going to help me. At least, not while I still have two small boys at home. Each wrinkle, I'm certain, is a direct result of either a sleepless night, or some heart-stopping moment that one of my boys has graced me with. Like Rex going head-over-heels down the steps. Twice. Or Sean climbing up onto his bouncy chair backwards and bouncing up and down like a kangaroo. On the hardwood floors. And now that Sean is walking EVERYWHERE, well, I shudder to think what the make-up lady will offer me next time! (Botox?) It doesn't matter, no amount of wrinkles could make me give up these faces:

And here are some photos from the surprise party my hubby threw for me for my 30th!: