Pregnancy Brain Sets In

Today has been one of those days where I could barely remember the English language - forget about doing anything remotely productive at the office. In line at McDonald's when the cashier asked "for here or to go?" I looked at him like he was speaking Spanish...which he wasn't, because (and I know this is strange) he was American.

I spent a good part of the morning wishing to dismantle certain coworkers. Immediately after lunch the "why am I here again?" fuzz descended upon me and so I gave up and went home.

Scott and I have found ourselves a bit lacking in courage as of late. I haven't told anyone in my family, save one cousin, that I'm pregnant. Only one of Scott's friends is aware, and that was only because he forced the information out of him.

In general, it's been a lot easier for me to tell friends than it is going to be for me to tell my family. It really shouldn't be this hard. Just three weeks ago, my grandma was reminding me that I shouldn't wait until I got too old. I kept my mouth shut. My mom is already a three-time grandma, what does she care? Oh yeah - she has this bet with me that our children will have red hair. I don't see that happening, even if my hair was red for a few months out of life. I mean, it's not baby bingo, for chrissakes.

My grandma actually called me yesterday morning before work. I know she would be so pleased to hear that I'm pregnant, but I just couldn't say anything. We talked about my car's registration and other such mundane things, but not once did I feel motivated to throw out a single hint.

I fell back on my trusty communication tool: Hallmark. On my way home today I was so sure that Hallmark would have "We're Expecting" cards that I felt a burden lifted from my shoulders. However, upon browsing the store I learned that no such thing exists. The only baby cards they had that didn't say "Congratulations on your pregnancy!" were blank on the inside, and I really don't have the sentiments to fill a blank card right now.

I ended up buying two of one card: one for my grandma (who will surely start the grapevine buzzing), and one for Scott's mom. They're kind of pastel with little drawings of baby stuff on the outside and on the inside they read "Let the games begin!"

Eh. I plan on slapping our names on the bottom and dropping them in the mail with no fanfare. When the angry voicemail messages begin streaming in I'll plead the fifth.

Posted by Tiffany at March 24, 2006 03:36 PM | TrackBack