Today I'm 39 years old.  I'm terrified that my mom is going to show up for dinner tonight and tell me that I'm really 40, that it's been a cruel joke all this time up until today.  I'm not 40 like my husband or my friends.  I'm not over that hill or passed that bump in the road.  My hair is a little gray and I've got a few aches and pains in the morning (but he's usually gone by 7 AM .... ) I'm only 39.

I don't know, I guess I just wanted to enjoy what I feel is my last year of youth.  So here it is, that typical blog of a woman who doesn't want to grow old.  I wish I could tell you that this year would be full of sky diving and marathons and tattoos and body piercings, but chances are it's the same as yours ... cleaning house, running errands, making broccolli taste like chocolate, too many headaches and not enought girl time.  We'll see... I have a feeling that though my birth certificate says I'm almost old as dirt, that God isn't done with me yet.