Most people, whether they know it or not, take a pretty firm stance on surprises. Think about it -- you most likely either love 'em or hate 'em. But I'm sure there are at least a handful of people out there who, like me, stand somewhere in the middle. When I turned sixteen, I came home from dinner with my family, to find twenty of my friends hiding in my house, just waiting to scare the shit out of me. They turned the lights on and started yelling things at me and laughing, and I think there were birthday decorations all over the place. They did succeed in scaring me for a moment, but I quickly realized that this was going to be a really cool birthday.
On the other hand, if you've known me more than a minute or two, you've probably noticed that I have the patience (and often attention span) of a flea. Anticipation is one of the worst forms of torture I can imagine. Living with me during Christmas time is, in Brian's terms, like "spending Christmas with a five-year-old". If he happens to make the mistake of telling me when he has bought or ordered my gift, he's in for a good four to six doses of, "can you pleeeease just give me a hint?", or "I probably should open that now, so that if it doesn't fit you have time to take it back" every day. Those kind of surprises kill me, seriously.
So anyway, Brian and I recently received the "surprise party you're not expecting" type of surprise. We have a new addition to our family on the way! While I have to admit that this surprise also succeeded at scaring the crap out of us for a minute (okay, or maybe a whole day or two), it's now safe to say that we're both really excited to join in on this party full-force. And the more we think about it, the more we both realize that if this was something we had been anticipating, I truly might have lost my mind.
At this moment I am eleven weeks along, due October 13, 2010. So if all goes well we will have a little pumpkin to add to our family by Halloween. I can't wait to dress it up like a jellyfish.
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