Umm ...

So, I'm NOT pregnant.

Not that there was really a real scare. It was really one of those blown-up-in-your-mind kind of scares that resulted from my belief in things like bad karma and jinxing yourself.

See, I have this friend who, at one point last year, resolutely stated that she was done having kids. And in the same breath, said, "But I'm 7 days late." And, yup, just this afternoon I was feeding her 6-month-old Cheerios.

So, I was convinced that when you say you don't want more kids, that kind of statement steps in and renders your birth control completely ineffective, the way that antibiotics do. And therefore when I made a statement that I wasn't looking to have any more kids, at least for the time being, I figured this would be the month I got pregnant.

Now, I don't like to blog about ... er, um, marital relations, but let me just say that the absolute only legitimate risk we took was my saying that we didn't want more kids. And you know what? I think plenty of women say all the time that they don't want any more kids, and those women don't instantly get knocked up.

But I was convinced that karma was going to come and bite me in the ass, and I would get pregnant, despite taking steps to prevent it. (Because that's how you get pregnant, by getting bit in the ass.)

Further complicating the matter was that I had a full set of dental x-rays last week, and they always ask you beforehand if there's any chance you might be pregnant, and I said no, but then of course there's that voice in the back of your mind that says, "Oh watch, now you will be."

Anyway, I'm not. And some people might wonder if this whole scare was built up in my mind because I'm subconsciously trying to test myself to see if I want another baby. I mean, I wondered that. But the truth is, I'm so overwhelmingly happy that I'm not pregnant.

Maybe that was the test. To see if I was happy that I wasn't pregnant. Anyway, I am. Happy, that is.

I wasn't sure I wanted to write about this, but I'm using it to segue into a larger point.

It's time for me to do something else with my life, and it isn't having more babies. Lately I have realized that all my friends are moving away, having more children, or getting new jobs. And as well they should. I'm not trying to stop them from their life progress. But I feel a little like a recent high school grad who is stuck in her hometown after all her friends went away to college. It's time for me to make progress, too.

But how?

Obviously if I'm not growing my family, I have to grow on the professional front. And I want to work, in theory. I like the idea of having something more to occupy my mind, something else besides the endless cycles of laundry and cleaning. But who will watch Nathan? How will I find something to do that will justify the cost and hassle of daycare? What do I even want to do?

And now that it's almost summer, do I want to give up the freedom to just jet off to the beach anytime I want?