Turning 27...

Yesterday I bid a fond farewell to 26, determined to embrace the number 27.

And embrace it, I did...

in the form of binge eating.

 Reece and I enjoyed a romantic (and kid-free!) dinner at La Jolla Groves.

I went a little crazy and ordered a diet coke with lemon instead of my usual water -- crushing my guilt by gulping 12 refills to justify the $2.50.

Totally worth the zero sleep that followed...

Here's to hoping 27 brings more dates with my husband.

 Also, let it be known that I would willingly shave my own head if it meant I could eat this lemon cake with vanilla bean sauce every day...

The morning of my birthday brought celebratory french toast at Kneaders with Reilly.

The Maudsleys kindly braved the snowstorm for a visit and Cindy and I were able to sneak away for pizza and birthday (aka complimentary) gelato at Terra Mia.

 The boys did a great job of holding down the fort while we were away.

Our princesses kept themselves busy with a tea party, naturally.

We rounded out the birthday with a serious game of bowling.

Because there's no better way to say, "bring it on, 27" than by chucking a very heavy ball down a wooden ramp.

 At least not in my book.

It was a lovely day.

 A million thanks to the friends and family who called, emailed, sent texts, left messages and made me feel so loved.

I am one lucky 27-year-old.

A 27-year-old who now has about ten pounds to work off.

Birthdays are fattening, after all.