So I take it you all heard the news, right?

You know.  The news about  how the Blockbuster nearby is going out of business and so we’ve stocked up on all kinds of DVD’s we wouldn’t normally care to buy, but holy shit, how can you pass up “Baby Mama” when it’s only $5.99?  You’d be a fool, you would!

Wait, not that news?

Oh.  That news.  About that thing.  That thing that still kinda looks like a manatee, but – hooray, a manatee that has fingernails this week – that is growing in my uterus.  Ohhh.  THAT thing.  I wasn’t sure if maybe you caught that in my last post.

So, there you are folks.  We’re having a baby.  Some big wig in the sky decided Tony and I wouldn’t make too dysfunctional of parents and decided to grace us with this exciting news.  Right before the holidays.  And New Years Eve.  When I normally would be in a self-induced coma of alcohol and holiday happiness.  But no bitterness.  Really.  On a sidenote we’ve decided to name the baby Buzzkill.  You know.  For his impeccable timing.

Ok, so that was mean and probably something our future baby bean will hash out in a therapy session when he relays how his mother ruined his life by already blogging all his personal tidbits before he was barely in human form.  In case you’re reading, future baby, I do apologize for calling you a manatee.  I do not apologize for being bummed about no alcohol for 9 months, though. 

In all seriousness, it was very exciting news and I couldn’t have been happier to find out around Christmas, instant-designated-driver status and all.  Remember this post?  Where I bombarded you with womanly ramblings about how I worry I’ll never get pregnant and why isn’t it happening for us?  Of course I blog about it and then POOF!  The uterus fairy makes a house call that very next month.

I’m 10 weeks along as of yesterday, which is a tad early to be letting you all in on my “condition” (Remember when pregnancy was called that?  Let’s bring that back into the vocab.)  But.  It’s exciting.  And we’re excited.  And nervous.  And freaked out.  And eating.  Lots and lots of eating.  (Don’t make me list what I’ve eaten today as I’ve grown accustomed to do for Tony.  It’s this weird thing I feel the need to do now that I’m pregnant.  He usually starts losing interest when I get to the second round of ice cream part.)

I want to thank all you for the kind, kind comments on the last post and the kind, kind comments on that other post where I was such a worrywart.  You slapped some sense into me and so did the Timing Gods. 

I’m excited to start this new journey, going from a Cheeky Bride to a Cheeky Mom.  Glad you’ll be here with me.

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