What a difference a year makes

This time last year, on my 31st birthday, I was 12 weeks pregnant, sick as a dog and eating pizza alone at home while Ryan worked until 8:30. I had been feeling crazy nauseous for about five weeks at that point, but I hadn't gotten sick yet... until... well, let's just say, happy birthday to me.

Fast forward one year, and I have had the best birthday ever with my three special guys.

It looks like Grant is thinking "Sweet, this has serious potential."

After a few minutes of festivities, it was business as usual around here. Reid wasn't really in the mood for veggies tonight, to say the least:

Reid - 1; Mommy - 0

And after getting his hopes up for creme brulee, Grant wasn't impressed either:

Finally, after 10 minutes of doing battle, Reid found something he was in the mood for:

So, even though we didn't do anything particularly noteworthy, I'd say my 32nd birthday has been pretty close to perfect -- after all, I already have the two most precious gifts in the world.