13 weeks

Chip and I were among several couples at a cookout this weekend. As always happens at these things, the men congregated around the television to watch sports and the women gathered in the kitchen where they jostled infants and looked out the window to keep an eye on their youngsters in the back yard.

The female conversation was punctuated by mothers getting up from their perches to bang on the window and holler at their offspring. “Billy! Stop throwing dirt at your sister!”

In the living room, the men punctuated hollering at the television with conversation about current events. “C’mon, Hawkins, try not to drop the ball this time! Did they ever catch that guy who held up Gunter's Restaurant? Oh, for crying out loud, Wilkins, my five-year-old can throw better than that!”

I’m no sports fan, but I longed to join the men. All the women talked about were stinkies, spit up, and scrap booking. What their little angel did today. What their little angel is doing tomorrow. Is that all mothers talk about? During the birthing process, along with the baby and the placenta, do women also deliver their ability for intelligent discourse?

Forgive the pun, but I don’t think I can bear it.

Wait... what happens if I DO turn into one of these women? Chip married me for my brains as well as my body, and I think we can pretty much write off the latter after this pregnancy (have you SEEN what havoc nine months can wreak on a formerly hot woman who doesn't have the financial means to get lipo and no inclination whatsoever to work out? Sheesh). So if I do become a babbling fount of inanities who can't connect with my husband (much less anyone else) on any other level than what the baby did or said or ate or pooped, maybe Chip will turn to someone else for lively conversation. Maybe it will be another woman. A hot woman. A hot, interesting, smart woman. Like I used to be.

Oh my gosh, he's going to have an AFFAIR! He can't do that to me! We have a child together, for crying out loud! How dare he! What if he leaves me and the baby for her?

Wait, what am I saying... this is ridiculous. I can't believe I'm even worried about Chip leaving me. Get a grip, Ellie. You know better than that.

You'd kick his sorry butt to the curb if he ever cheated on you. ;)