What's wrong?

I don't know. No...that's not true...I have an idea or two.

My mental state is such that I almost had a complete breakdown in JCPenney yesterday. We were late to my mom and dad's house to go out to dinner for mom's 60th birthday.

There was nobody at the photo counter to ring up my purchase of a picture frame (4x10 photos...don't EVER buy this size...no matter how adorable...because then you HAVE TO buy the frame from them as well).

Then I went to jewelry and wandered around, frustrated by my too-helpful son suggesting we get grandma a string of pearls ("that's not really grandma's style"..."what's style?"..."oh my god does he NEVER shut up?").

All the while, Myles was grunting. You know...THE grunt.

I finally found something I felt reasonably sure my mom would like and, obviously taking their cue from the portrait place, there was nobody to ring it up. The watch guy was helping someone examine watches with a jeweler's loop, so they were gonna be a while. The fine jewelry lady had a customer to whom she said, "Let me go find..." and disappeared behind the swinging doors into the magical land of only-God-knows-where-the-hell-she-went. The purse lady helped someone (right in front of me) and then, quite literally, DISAPPEARED. I looked around me to find Sam and looked back and she was GONE...and something inside me snapped because I KNOW she saw us...hell...even if she didn't see us, I KNOW she heard my chants of, "Sam, no...Sam, stop it...," not to mention Sam's hysterical cries of, "Myles, stop pooping already please." (Yeah...I know...we're classy like that)

So I made a beeline for the customer service desk by the door where we came in. And yes...it was empty. The three teenage girls who were SUPPOSED to be working it were standing in the baby section discussing something (important, I'm sure...maybe world peace). One of them reluctantly strolled over and rang up my purchase. When asked if they had any gift boxes, she referred me to the catalog counter. No problem, it's over by the photo place that I had to return to to get the damn frame, so it was ok. Ha!

And here is when the crying started (Myles, not me...yet).

Walked into the photo place AGAIN and waited in line behind a woman who was ordering her portrait package from the slowest cashier in the history of the world. Seriously. She would have grown moss on her if she had moved any slower. And I keep getting THE look...isn't that cute? listen to the baby cry. awww...poor baby. can't you do something? that baby crying is really starting to get annoying. what kind of mother are you? Yeah...THAT look. I wanted to reach around the woman in front of me, across the counter, and grab the cashier by the ears and just...I don't know...shake the shit out of her.

Finally got my picture frames and headed, with screaming baby, to the catalog counter. Asked for a jewelry gift box. The pimply faced boy couldn't find one and wanted me to WAIT while he searched. I said it wasn't that important and he said, "No, if you want a gift box, I will find you a gift box," all surly-like as if I had just insulted his mother. Pimply-faced teenager #2 overheard our conversation and said, "Gift box? They're over here," and proceeds to hand me a SHIRT BOX. I just looked at him and said, "Thank you, but I'm looking for a jewelry gift box."

"Oh...we don't have any of those...these are the smallest gift boxes we have."

Yeah...I walked out.

There was poop everywhere...clothes, carseat, appendages (his and mine). It was a thing of beauty I tell you. I changed his diaper right there in the back end of the minivan...bare butt cheeks blowing in the breeze white trash style...and Myles made the rest of the trip to my parent's house in his diaper and nothing else (and I just now realize I left that poopy outfit in the van...in this heat...hehehe...thankfully I'm not driving that stinkmobile today...poor Steve).

At dinner I spilled my drink and almost burst into tears. My mother, showing early signs of Alzheimer's (or maybe a mother's special intuition), asked if I'm pregnant (I'm not).

So what's wrong?

Steve and I had THE talk. Should he stock up on frozen peas pretty soon? Go in for the big snip-snip? Yeah...THAT talk. And as is our amazingly adult style...we resolved nothing.

When I think about it (and it's ALL I've been thinking about since we talked about it), I want to puke. I hate feeling backed into a corner...like I HAVE TO make a decision NOW. I like to work at my own pace and come to my own conclusions in my own time. But time keeps ticking and...well...there isn't much of it left.

I keep trying to distract myself. It worked before...kept me busy so I couldn't think. But it ain't working now. So I make lists of pros and cons. The cons list is considerably longer than the pros list but I'm not sure quantity is what counts here. How do you weigh cons like unspeakable fear and financial stress with the joy and love of another child? I know what I SHOULD do. I know what the RESPONSIBLE thing is...

And I really can't help but wonder if what I'm feeling is a longing for what I lost in the past rather than a wish for future children. And that mind f*** is just too complex for me to untangle.

Crap, this is difficult. Anybody want to be in charge of my life for a while?

In the meantime, if you see a story on the evening news about a woman who sat down crying in the middle of Penneys and couldn't stop...you'll know what it's all about.