No, Millie and Mom, I'm not pregnant. I'd find a much more creative way to tell you than to blog about it. I'd send a fax or something.

I don't think it's any surprise we like children. I mean, I've only mentioned it seven or eight times on here. In the last month.

Dave and I always said we wanted to be young parents; our parents are, his sister is, we married young, we have bad luck and will probably be struck by meteors at the age of 37 ... That sort of thing.

We've been married about a year now. So. Yeah, the topic's come up.

Because I'm that neurotic woman -- the one who was reading Bride magazine before I started dating Dave, the one who was getting college application packets my sophomore year of high school just to be ready, the one who buys bread two loaves at a time just to be sure I have a loaf when I need one, the one who pays bills the exact day she gets them in the mail -- I've been Googling.

And it's fun. Some Web sites are really creepy (I mean, seriously, I don't remember having to ask this question when I was a teenager); some are just stupid. Others are cutesy. Ever sat in a gynecologists' waiting room? Some are like that. Rose-y colored and full of cut-away, 5-foot-tall WOMAN'S REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM posters. (In all capital letters.)

The most entertaining part isn't on the Internet.

It's Dave. He's not the pre-engagement-Dave anymore. Maybe the wedding gave that part away. Before he asked me to marry him, if I brought up marriage even as a joke, he'd spit up his coffee and stammer and find something to go buy from the grocery store. Now, he brings it up himself, and he's not even laughing. At first, I expected him to turn red and look at his feet, the ceiling, my shoes, the wall, all while saying, "Oh, and uh, we need um ... Drano! Yes, you can never be too prepared for a clogged drain! Do we need bread? I'll get two loaves. Yes! I'll be back. You, uh, stay here. With my cell phone. I, uh, don't need it."

So, it's something new and different for me. In a couple ways.

That's all. I am done talking about it. I'm closing the subject.