My tiny baby turned one month old this past Sunday.

To celebrate, we had the mandatory one month old photo shoot, a quick (crying filled) vlog entry, and a trip to purchase more newborn diapers.


Not only was it Itty Bitty’s birthday, it was mine as well. I turned 31, or 372 month old. Since my birthday falls on Cinco de Mayo, friends and I have generally celebrated by eating too many tacos and drowning ourselves in frozen margaritas. Last year was especially fun because it also was the Kentucky Derby – so we dressed up and wore mini derby hats.

This year, my celebration was a bit more… subdued, but still as wonderful. Hubby made breakfast in the morning.

My parents came over, and we all ate tacos (my favorite food) that evening.

My cake from Gregg’s had so many candles on it that half melted into the frosting before my family finished singing Happy Birthday. (I guess this is a sign I am getting older)

And the grand finale was the birthday present from my parents, a rocking chair for my porch.

Last year I would have laughed at the idea of getting a rocking chair for my birthday. I would have much preferred a new pair of heels, or concert tickets. But having given birth just a month prior, I have no plans to wear heels in the near future, nor can I leave my baby for a half hour – nonetheless for an entire evening for a concert.

The rocking chair is perfect. My tiny baby and I sit outside every morning to soak up some fresh air and to watch the neighbors stroll by. If Itty Bitty is awake, I tell him all about the birds, plants or smells swirling around us. If he’s asleep, I selfishly take the time to finish a blog post, or another chapter of Fifty Shades of Grey (its so bad, but so good). Well, what else would you expect from a 372 month old?