The Weeping Machine

I have become this weeping machine. The height being when I started weeping when Sandra Bullock won "Miss Congeniality" in the movie of the same name. Also, every afternoon, sometime between 2 and 4 (when I'm not sleeping) there will be tears with absolutely no provocation.

I had to pity my husband when we were discussing doctor's appointments. He had read in a fatherhood book about one expectant father who was introduced to his wife's girly bits by the ob and thought it was really great. My husband and I are firmly of the camp that we're both more comfortable with a neck-up role for him. Unfortunately, I decided to become very distraught over the fact that while I didn't want him looking at my innards, I was also hurt that he was fine with that. He coped admirably by offering me a Canada Dry as, he has now learned, there seem to be very few things in this pregnant woman's life that can't be cured with Canada Dry, mellon, or ginger tea.