Keith and I both turned 25 this month. Maybe this is weird, but I'm actually pretty happy to be a year older. And not because I can rent a car (although that will be convenient). You see, according to everyone else on the planet, I look like I'm 18 years old...tops. Everyone always tell me, "Oh don't worry, when you are 40, you will love it!" Well, I'm not 40. And trust me, I'm not lovin' it.
When you are married with a baby, being mistaken for someone in high school on a regular basis isn't that cool. People think I'm either Grace's babysitter or about to join the cast of teen mom.
Hopefully when I'm 40, I really will love it. But for now, I'm welcoming aging with open arms over here.