Today is my birthday. I never make a big deal out of it because not only is it right after Christmas, it’s also the day after my sister’s birthday. We shared a cake for years – my half always had 3 more candles on it, and my birthday outfits were 3 sizes bigger. Her toys were blue, mine red. Whatever they were.

So when people ask what I’m doing for my birthday, I tend to answer with a blank stare. Today it’s not just because of the usual post-Christmas stupor, it’s because this year, I don’t feel any older. I don’t feel 49. I don’t even feel my sister’s age, 46. I don’t know what age I feel. Some days I feel 22, ready to conquer the world. Sometimes I feel 8, and the world is still full of wonder.

So for my birthday I asked for a power drill. Hear me out now – it’s the perfect gift for a 49-year-old woman.

Despite his misgivings, Bob got me a top of the line cordless DeWalt with a light on the front and enough horsepower to cut through metal (and a compass in the stock and this thing which tells time). It’s heavy and serious – like it could build or tear down anything.

What am I going to do with this thing? Drill, baby, drill. Hang mini-blinds and install light fixtures. Fix what’s broken and spruce up what’s ugly. Hold it in the air like Tim the Toolman Taylor and grunt “RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!”

That’s my response to the looming Big 5-0.

Message to Boy’s friend: When you prank call someone, especially when they’re sleeping, don’t use your dad’s cell phone. We have caller ID, dude.

Remember back in high school when people were elected most likely to do stuff? I was not elected most likely to succeed, and now I’m not likely to remember who was most likely. (Once a friend got mad at me and voted me Most Likely to be Wrong.) By now my high school friends and I have become the people we were most likely to be. Except for one thing. One of them just got a goat.

This friend lives in a very nice suburb in Fort Worth. Her husband is a doctor. If in high school we had to vote on who was Most Likely to Own a Goat, it would not have been she. And if my friends were to vote now on who is Most Likely to Own a Goat, they would pick me. Because they know Bob. Besides, there are chickens, cows, horses and a baby buffalo in this neighborhood already.

My friend emails me a photo of the goat, a very cute animal with a white body and a brown face. She also includes the words “de-worm” and “diarrhea” in her email. This is clearly not her idea. This is her daughter’s 4-H project.

We should have voted my friend Mostly Likely to be a Kick-ass Mom.

Apparently my children have added a few new words to the English language.

This one is from Girl:

bu-cept [buh-sept] -conjunction: combination of the words “except” and “but:” I was going to fold clothes bucept I got too tired.

And here’s one from Boy:

wull [wuhl] – interjection: Whiny form of the word “well,” usually followed by an excuse: Wull, you didn’t tell me to bring in the garbage cans, so I forgot.