Second tour of duty before basic's out....

In college, we all dreamt of the big bucks.

There would be fortune 500 companies lined up at my graduation not able to wait snatching up my brilliant mind.
Training and Development was a degree broad enough to apply as a GAP front store manager and narrow enough to hope for a human resources job...I just had to work it. So where did my genius self accept the first position at of my glowing career?

Our county health department.

As the sex ed teacher...
Making 22,000 a year.

Yuk it up, it gets better I promise.

For six months, I went into each high school and middle school within our county showing the nastiest pictures of men and womens privates with what looked like angry ant hills glowing with green castles of puss, along with how yes, technically, frenching your boyfriend during lunch could end you up with one of those cute 'toys' that poop and make their own noise.
All of this was done while silently hoping I looked ultra hot so I could fit into that sex teacher cliche'.

Truth be told, most of my 8th graders knew wayyyyyy more about sexual positions than I had dreamt of. I swear---this memory alone makes me want to be mormon and home school Daniel.

I've went on to make a little more money and have slightly more tasteful jobs to chat about during church (really...how was Nana to feel introducing her granddaughter as the sex teacher??) but I always loved how I could throw in a little public health knowledge should the situation come up.

After Daniel, I knew our family would stop for a minute.
12, maybe 40 years we'd wait for another. After the first 6 months of being a hormonal mess, you do NOT want to even THINK about doing it again (and 'it' can be sex or pregnancy---cause at that point you equate one with the other). At least, you weren't thinking about it once the Zoloft helped you think clearly--someone needs to get octomom a script, asap.

Daniel's birthday party went great, all was chuggin' along.
Then last week came.

I had a dream that I was sitting in a rocking chair, holding a (literally) swaddled infant, humming.
I don't dream about babies. Sure, a dream with Daniel in it may happen from time to time but normally I don't remember my dreams or if I do it's random space aliens coming over for tuna casserole type dreams.

I woke up and my first thought was, "When was my period???"
We had an extra test from way back when hidden in the medicine cabinet.

Ah, what they hay? Might as well.

Brian passes by with Daniel as I pull the test out.

"What's that for?"
I mean...what was he thinking it was for? Has anyone used a pregnancy test to time their meatloaf???

"Just checking." I say.

I pee. I wait. I turn the test over. And in digital letters

PREGNANT


I tilted the test to the left, checking the corner of the display window. I just needed one NOT in there. It wasn't happening. I had no words. I stood up---walked out of the bathroom, and just looked at Brian. He looked at me and chuckled, "No way."

He walks over, looks down at the test, up at me---and at the same time, just as every child wants to hear that their parents discuss their pregnancy for the first time, we look at each other and say,

"Oh Shit."

Four digital tests later---still pregnant.

Apparently, buying the Wal-Mart brand of pregnancy tests really is the same as name brand. I was hoping it'd be like Oreos where it's just not right if you don't have the name brand. Nope. Sperm and Egg make a baby, no matter how frugal you are.

The first two days were a whirlwind of emotions. Depressed, happy, scared, excited, nervous...all of it. Much like the first time, except I didn't sign up for this tour of duty--I got drafted. It's like Vietnam and my uterus just got letter wondering if Canada is an option.

But, like everything surprising, once you give it a couple days--you warm up to the idea. Now---instead of being nervous, I'm thinking of whether it's a boy or girl.
Yeah, yeah, healthy, healthy. I'm on that train too. But there isn't a woman in the universe that doesn't secretly hope for one or the other.

I'm thinking of those frilly dresses I've made fun of. I want the little girl to "complete the set". A boy is great, but now the testerone could be equalled out in the house for all days to come! We'll see.

I wasn't really even out of basic training yet in terms of Operation Mommyhood...but now I know I didn't get drafted for the second one. I'm going in fully aware. I'll win mission hilarious and all the battles with it :-)