Or wherever you send little beings when they turn four. I'm not a mom...I don't know these things.
Sticktoitiveness is not my forte. I've never even kept a plant alive for four days. So, each year that passes and I'm still writing in this space, I'm a bit impressed with myself. Gabe always says he's glad I've written all this down, so someday our kids can read it. I'm not sure what he's thinking, because I don't ever want my children to have access to this much dirt. Maybe when they're twenty. And on that topic, when I have children and they actually make it to preschool, I'll kick back and think, "Whoa. I did it. I kept little people alive for four years."
I can't even fathom that type of pride.
But now, I'm just pleased that I've documented most everything, big and little, in this space for four years and going: heading back to college, dropping some serious weight, getting dumped three times in three months (that's gotta be a record), applying for my first passport + meeting my husband, getting engaged in Paris, our surprise NYE wedding. An unexpected trip to Kuwait.
...and the adventure that's coming up next. That's right. We've got a job. We've got a date. We've got to move. Faaaar away. That's another day, another post.
For today, pull up a slab of virtual cake and let's party!
Happy fourth birthday, little blog. And thanks a ton for following along + reading, friends. It means so much. :)