As much as we love island life, the mainland came calling.

We washed up onto the shore of reality Sunday evening, fully drenched in the tide of daily responsibilities by Monday morning.

In case I’ve not said it before, I do LOVE my teaching job.

Point five seconds after pulling into the driveway, three days a week, the kiddos I work with fly out the front door. “Waggy!” They scream and wrap themselves around my waist and at least one of my legs.

Happy Birthday to Me

Had to beg, but these ding dongs granted me my birthday wish and let me take their photo. We won’t talk about why they’re laughing.

What happens between cousins, stays between cousins.

I spent my actual birthday day with family, and my best friend. Aka, the new chicken and waffle sandwich from Chick-Fil-A.

Not pictured because, well, it didn’t stand a chance.

I received tons of calls and texts and “Happy Birthday” serenades, mostly from the people in my life who have no business attempting to lug around a tune in a bucket. I’m looking at you, Faye.

And can we all agree that if there was an award for The-Platform-that-Makes-You-Feel-the-Most-Special-On-Your-Special-Day, Facebook would get it EVERY DANG TIME?!

I love opening up the app the morning of my birthday. Thanks, again, friends.

Last night, I got to watch Preston in his first fall game with the high school. Today, I spent the morning with JP, scouring every Five Below in town, in search of these two Five Nights at Freddie’s squash-mallows. Look how happy he was to find them.

The moral of this post is simple.

I’m thankful. And grateful.

And loved.