Umm...Yeah

Scratch what I said in my last post about my writing. Since I found out that I'm pregnant, I've done NOTHING. I've been lying around the house in a restless stupor, feeling vulnerable and anxious. I don't know what to do or think.

I don't even know if I can take an aspirin if I get a headache.

Yesterday, I pried my backside off of the couch long enough to buy some Mother's Day cards for all the special women in my life. I promised my mom several months ago that I would get her one even though I treated her to a shopping spree for her birthday, which was two weeks ago. Thankfully, finding the right card kept me out of the house for a good half hour. I went down to the mini Navy Exchange on base and was treated to the most retch-inducing Mother's Day cards money can buy. Thank you, U.S. Navy! Not only did the cards feature some of the worst sentimental embellishments in existence (i.e., "You are the best mom in the world!"), most of the drippy poems didn't even rhyme!

Being the closet feminist that I am, I don't exactly feel conscionable about telling my mom or anyone else that "motherhood was your greatest accomplishment." In my opinion, any fertile woman can squeeze out a baby. I guess if your influence inspires your offspring to cure cancer, you could possibly make that claim. I realize I'm being terribly cynical.

On a more personal note, I think my mom makes a better banker than a mother. She can balance a till to the penny any day of the week, but she can't always show understanding when one of her children does something disappointing or out of the ordinary. I've just learned to accept it and love her anyway. I have to find a card that expresses that sentiment.

As I began rifling through the awful cards, I was struck by the realization that I, too, am going to be a mother. Shocking, I know. Right now, I just hope these Mother's Day cards improve before my child has to buy one.

So far, I've only told some of my family and a couple of select friends--and you, dear readers!--that I'm pregnant. I'm still processing the news, and I don't want to get too carried away. After all, I'm only four weeks along. Something unfortunate could happen between now and January, and then I'd have to tell everyone about that, too. I think I'll just let the news leak out gradually.

When is my husband coming home today?