Um, yeah.

Sorry about the lack of posting.  I just felt that I didn’t have a lot in the way of interesting thoughts to share.  Mostly, these days, I think about baby stuff and sleeping.  Neither of those things are all that interesting.

We are building a deck.  My parents are coming to help the weekend after this one. 

Ack.  Too tired to be creative.  I’m so sorry!  I will try to post something good sometime soonish.

I was listening to NPR this morning on the way to work, and they mentioned the military's latest operation in Afghanistan.  It's called "Mountain Thrust."  That's right.  Say it out loud if you don't see why the name is hillarious and so freaking ironic. 

That's it.  Just thought that was too precious not to share.

I have resisted writing anything lately, since I don't seem to have anything especially significant to offer.  Maybe it's the complete and sudden lack of caffeine. 

So for those of you who don't already know, I'm pregnant.  We are very excited, nervous, skeptical, crazy, and hopeful.  In general, I'm mostly just trying to believe it and to believe that I have what it takes to be a good mother.  There's a part of me that doesn't try because of fear of failure.  I don't submit poetry for publication.  I purposefully waited until after the deadline for my first choice college.  I just feel so…unprepared.

I guess that's why we get nine (or eight) months, though.  There's time to figure out how to be a mother.  I do really feel that I was born to do this.  It's just that if I screw up the thing I have always wanted most, what does that say about me?

I have always pictured myself as a more together person at the time I have kids:  you know, someone who keeps her bedroom clean and doesn't freeze up when talking to new people.  I was looking through a box of my grandma's photos, and I came across this Christmas photo where I'm about seven and staring directly at the camera.  I'm not smiling, and it looks like I was caught in the middle of an anxious thought (which I probably was).  I still feel like that girl most of the time.  And how would anyone expect a 7-year-old to take care of a baby?!

But on the other hand, I've managed to make a great living, love and marry a fabulous man, and own a beautiful house.  So it's not really like I'm seven.

Speaking of my fabulous man, I just have to describe my grandma's response to the baby news.  I told her I was pregnant, and the first thing she said was, "Wow!  He's quite a man, isn't he?"  Cracks me up!