Last weekend we celebrated my 29th birthday, and you know I can’t let a birthday pass without inundating you with some quality cell snaps. I told James that what I wanted for my birthday was for a small group of people that I really love to show up for a dinner on time and stay put until the end. I didn’t want a party where people “tried to stop by” or made it event one of an evening of other social functions. I didn’t want to worry if people would show up or feel sad when they couldn’t make it. I wanted intentionality. I know that might sound just a tad controlling, but James asked me what I wanted and I was honest.

PEOPLE HAVING FUN AND STAYING PUT. Perhaps they were scared to leave. Don’t care.

And it happened, my intentional dinner party where everyone showed up and stayed put. James talked a local coffee shop into doing a private five-course dinner and we gathered our friends together for an evening. Babies were left at home. Henry went to bed without us for the first time and I can’t decide if I am pleased or miffed at how he just didn’t seem to care that we weren’t there. We ate tasty food and when we were done, somehow half the group ended up back in our living room for a post-party. It was exactly what I wanted.

Look at us wild moms partying without spit-up on our clothes. CHAMPIONS.

This lady has been coming to my birthday parties since we were in middle school. She had headgear and I wore horse t-shirts, and I am thankful everyday that social media wasn’t around yet so that we only had to wonder if we were totally uncool, rather than actually knowing that we were social outcasts.

I want 29 to be a year of intentional living. I want to make decisions and then see them through, to choose wisely how we spend our money and our time and our energy. I want to be picky with what we put in our lives and then joyous with what comes out. I want more select dinner parties and fewer attendances at events that don’t matter. 28 was really, really good. We traveled, loved on our community of friends and family, saw the realization of professional goals, moved, and created a tiny human who has stolen our hearts. 29 feels like it has a lot to live up to, and more importantly, a lot to squeeze in before 30, which is basically the end of life as we know it.

Just kidding on that last one. But 29 is the last year of my 20’s, the last year of something that has always seemed to stretch out deliciously long and full of promise. 20’s feel like they are full of second chances, full of space to mess up and start over again. I would love to walk away from 29 next year and think, we did it, we did it all. I’m not even sure exactly what that will look like (though I realllllyyyyyy hope it looks like a finished dissertation), but I know that it’s going to take some intentional living to get there.

And you know, of course, that I will drag you back here next year with an exciting update. Get excited.

It’s been a struggle to find a back alley near our new place as good as the one at our old place, but I have persevered. I know, I know, you are just so thankful.