There have been moments since we first found out we were pregnant when I have felt too young to be a mom. If the last few weeks have not cured me of that delusion, nothing will. 
Josh has done an excellent job of reminding me again and again that I am, indeed, 30 years old. Fortunately, his reminders have come in the form of dinners out, fabulous earrings, and--this past weekend--a surprise party, so I’m not about to complain. 
Maybe it’s because I have no reason to complain that this milestone hasn’t fazed me. I love my family, friends, church, job, and home. I feel so incredibly blessed beyond my desserts. I’ve been thinking lately that if going back to work next month doesn’t put us over the edge, I want to be even more intentional about sharing my blessings through service. I just have to figure out who and where. Maybe that can be the climax to marking my 30th year? Nah. Nothing can compete with this little guy…
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