POINT THE FIRST: For everyone who doubts in the existence of false positives, please go and Google "Target Up and Up Brand Pregnancy Test False Positives." Please note the dozens and dozens of testimonials describing exactly what I saw on my test: a faint but definitely-there line almost immediately (it darkened a lot by the time I took the photo, but did appear in the initial three-minute testing window), confusion and a string of negative test results afterward. Basically, if you're every in the mood for the mental and emotional ass-fuck of a false positive on a peestick, Target is the brand for you. Otherwise, DON'T BUY TARGET UP & UP BRAND PREGNANCY TESTS. THEY ARE TEH CRAP. I PEE ON THEM. POINT THE SECOND: For everyone who was convinced they saw a second line in the third test, which, I dunno, trick of the camera or something because I assure you there is NO LINE in the actual physical test, please check out this inverted version of the photo courtesy of Ryles. Absolutely, definitively no line. POINT THE THIRD: Sorry, everybody. (I bought like, six dozen different tests because OF COURSE I DID. I will alert you if the... Read more →

Yesterday, 2 pm, after a combination of 1) mild yet persistent stomach issues, 2) boob weirdness, 3) overwhelming craving for an entire can of black olives in spite of said stomach issues, 4) the realization that condoms DO INDEED have an expiration date, hellooooo May of 2008, and 5) entirely way too many episodes of I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant, better known in our house as The Oops You Had a Baby In Your Pants Show: Better known as Exhibit Wait What Squint Squint No Way Squint Oh Shit Yesterday, 5 pm, after my plan to wait until morning to retest failed miserably in the face of Googling for pictures of other people's store-brand peesticks with very faint second lines but not like, a real second line and I totally didn't actually think I was pregnant, I was just checking, because taking unnecessary pregnancy tests is kind of a hobby of mine: Better known as Exhibit That's More Like It Today, 7:30 am, after a restless still-unconvinced night of boob-poking, attempts to imagine life with THREE OF THEM, followed by fits of maniacal laughter: Better Known as Exhibit Well Now We Know How We Really Feel About THAT My... Read more →

About two weeks-ish ago, Kristen H commented that there's nothing like a pregnancy scare to REALLY help you figure out how you feel about having another baby. When I missed my period this weekend, my feelings were something like: oh hell oh shit oh fuck oh minivan. When I stopped at a drugstore near by parents' house in Pennsylvania for a pregnancy test, the girl ringing me up gave me a knowing sort of stinkeye, and I stared at my feet and felt awkward and...you know, SHAMEFUL. I shoved the bright pink package into my diaper bag and ignored it for the next several hours while Jason kept looking at me with his eyes bulging out of his head. Who was I and what had I done with the peestick-happy woman he'd married? What was I waiting for, already? "I don't have to pee yet," I whispered. Even though I did. Kind of. Let's just say I've peed on sticks with less. Finally I retreated to the bathroom and dug out the package. I opened up a stick -- careful not to destroy the wrapper, since I sure as hell wasn't leaving pregnancy-test debris in my parent's wastebasket -- and... Read more →

Conclusion to Amy Takes Her Foot-in-Mouth Show On the Road: Holy awkward SHITBALLS, people. She walked by me this morning and didn't even LOOK at me. And then picked her son up EARLY this afternoon. Probably just to avoid me, because I am sure I made that much of an impression and there couldn't possibly be any other explanation, like a doctor's appointment or a vacation or...okay, there are possibly a few other explanations. But me and my mad social skillz remain suspicious. Suspicious and lonely and very glad we were both too lazy to follow-through on the cookie idea. Over the last few weeks I've read more than a smattering of blog entries addressing the whole "are we done having babies" question. A good number of them were written by women with babies somewhere around Ezra's age. And they of course got me thinking about writing a similar entry, because I haven't had an original thought bash around my skull since at least 2004. (Unless you include the thing with the talking deodorants. Then I am a national treasure of useless creative vision.) A few weeks after Ezra was born, I tentatively said something to Jason about the topic.... Read more →