Public displays of emotion really bother me. This is
probably because I was raised by a corporate lawyer, so genetically half of my
soul is missing. And during my first pregnancy, I didn’t cry. Well, except that
one time that brownie tasted so good.
But this time, I’m a mess. I traded in
my crime procedurals for romantic comedies, and I spend a lot of my time
clutching my heart and declaring things to be “so sweet.” My husband is more afraid of me now than the
time I read him excerpts of a book on the Green River Killer.
I have four weeks left in my pregnancy, and I spend most of my
days dabbing my eye with a tissue. The following reasons are just a few of the
things that have brought me to really pathetic, snotty nose, chest-heaving