I'm lousy with breaking news -- even the good kind -- to people. Its not a skill I ever developed. I handle these kinds of earnest moments awkwardly, and it leaves people wondering whether I'm fucking with them or what. Its a little like Molly Ringwald in that movie "For Keeps" (God I love that flick), when she says, "Pass the salt. I'm pregnant."
Which is my news, incidentally. I'm preggo. Knocked up. In the family way. Bun in the oven and all that.
I figured I should mention it since I'm in my third trimester and eventually, if all goes well, I will just be blogging about a Terza, and you'll be like, "What? Who's this new character? What the hell?" And then I'd have to backtrack and explain, yeah, I was totally pregnant there for the better part of a year and now I have a new baby and I just neglected to mention the whole thing. What can I say? I'm a wierdo.
So, yes, big news. New baby.
And since I've had this conversation a few times since my belly popped a while back, I can anticipate your next question. We know the gender and its a . . . lady baby. I put it that way because I like the image of her in pearls and a Chanel suit in my uterus, a real lady. Though I can't imagine where she'd get THAT from, since I curse like a sailor and Seconda still likes to show the world her underwear when she hangs upside down by her knees on the monkey bars. Who knows what this little critter will be like? Its kind of the fun of the enterprise, after all, the mystery which gets ever closer to being revealed.
So, prepare yourselves for some pregnancy blogging. Since I've kept the news under wraps for so long, I've got a LOT of complaining to make up for -- tons and tons. Gird your loins, people.