The pink bomb has detonated

I think pregnancy is an experience that can teach someone a lot about what kind of person they really are. They used to say the same thing about alcohol when I was growing up -- that you can tell what someone is really like when they are drunk. Back then, it meant that you may act all nice when you’re sober but when you’re drunk you kick puppies. Or you may act all cool when you’re sober but when you’re drunk you sing along to Billy Joel songs. Anyway, I found out that when I’m not pregnant I’m all Women’s college, subscribe to Ms. Magazine, NARAL pin wearing and when I am pregnant anything the color of pink turns me into a mushy nurturer that just wants to hug it and squeeze it and do it’s hair with a pink ribbon. I’ve known for a while now that I’m going off the rails a little bit with my desire to own all things pink, but it was like seeing yourself from behind in a three-way mirror for the first time when I passed the door to Betty’s room this morning. Last night I put pink curtains up in her room which already has a pink carpet, sheets, blankets, changing table cover, and closet full of clothing. Last night everything looked just fine to me. This morning, however, thanks to the sun coming through the pink curtains, there was a pink glow going on along with all the other pink and frankly, I was a little scared. I saw it as if for the first time and there is just no question that I have crossed the line. I think I should enter this date in the baby book that Betty will never see: November 29, 2006, the first time mommy lost her mind. It will be in the book right after the date where mommy first felt too competitive on Betty’s behalf and the date where mommy first said something inappropriate about one of Betty’s playmates.