I confess

I confess that sometimes I open my blog just to see my ticker box.

I confess that sometimes I think about what should have been. Would my baby look like me? Would my baby be a cuddle bug?

I confess that sometimes I get pangs of jealously when I hear about other people's pregnancies or birth announcements.

I confess that some women who have children of their own make me want to kick them in the teeth when I hear just how horrible they are at mothering.

I confess that I sometimes am so very happy I never had kids of my own and I can pack up and go to Vegas without worrying about having to find a sitter.

I confess that all the conflicting emotions cause gas.

I confess that last sentence was TMI.

I confess that I want a new tattoo.

I confess that I secretly fantasize about never having to work ever again.