We all love Jill Smokler, better known by many as Scary Mommy. Her blog has made us laugh, cry, and sigh with relief a million times (sometimes in a single day).

So everyone was thrilled when she came out with her new book, Confessions of a Scary Mommy. Like her blog, we relate. And we think you will, too. Here is an excerpt:

Back in 2003, I was working in store design for my favorite company. My simple life consisted of shopping, eating out with my husband, drinking with friends, and shopping some more. Did I mention shopping? Because it was the biggest part of my life. My job, which involved decorating a beautiful store with things I could buy myself at a steep discount, was the perfect fit for a self-absorbed girl like me.

My job required me to arrive early so I could unpack and arrange the merchandise that had arrived the previous day on the sales floor. One particular morning in May at about five o’clock, I sat on an overpriced shag carpet with my coworkers, tearing into the big cardboard boxes that had arrived from far overseas.

Shiny amethyst earrings! Embellished scarves! Miniature teacups! Everything was so totally cute and absolutely worth spending my entire paycheck on. What else was money for, anyway? Certainly not for saving or investing in anything. Who needed that?!

After a while, I got to a box containing nothing but cookbooks. Beautiful cookbooks that normally made my mouth water and dream of dining on sea bass and grilled vegetables and whatever other beautiful dishes were spread across the colorful pages. But, as I pulled the first one out and glanced at the cover, a funny thing happened. Actually, it wasn't so funny at all. The mere sight of a plate of roasted scallops sent me running into the bathroom for dear life.

Scallops, normally one of my favorite foods, were suddenly unbelievably repulsive. So repulsive that I could barely control myself, and before I knew it, the entire contents of my stomach covered the stockroom bathroom. That was odd, I thought. Maybe I had some bad Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast? Yes, that must have been it. Of course. The rest of the day went similarly. Suddenly, I couldn't look at food without needing to upchuck. A coworker heated up her lunch in the communal microwave and the grotesque smell infuriated me. Wasn't the stench of homemade ravioli revolting to anyone else? The tomato sauce? The cheese? The faint scent of garlic and onion? So rude of her to heat up her food like that and torture the rest of us! It was gag-worthy, wasn't it?

Except, it wasn't. Not to anyone else but me.

“You’re totally pregnant,” my assistant observed confidently when I returned from my seventh trip to the ladies’ room.

“Pregnant? Me? No way. I’m just ... off today,” I responded in a huff. Certainly, that was it ... I couldn't be pregnant. We lived in a third-floor walk-up downtown, I’d had three vodka tonics last weekend, I was rocking the supershort denim skirts, I didn’t even like kids, for crying out loud. It was simply not a possibility. Maybe there was a stomach bug going around—maybe I’d even drop a few pounds in the process! Now, that I could deal with. But pregnant? Nope. Not me.

On the way home, I stopped at the drugstore to pick up some Pepto-Bismol and a trashy magazine. I happened to pass the family-planning aisle, where the pregnancy tests stared back at me from their orderly little shelves. Of course it would be negative, and I would relish in saying “I told you so” tomorrow at work, but what the hell? The ten bucks seemed worth the investment if for no other reason than to prove my coworkers wrong. I’d certainly spent money on more frivolous things in my lifetime. Into my cart the little test flew.

At my apartment, I ripped open the package and followed the directions diligently. Prepared to wait awhile in the bathroom, I thumbed through my hot-off-the-press People magazine to catch up on the latest Jen and Brad gossip: Were they expecting? Was he cheating? Was she cheating? When was the last time he shaved that beard? Her hair was a little too blond, but not altogether bad. Would mine look good like that? It might look good on me ...

These were my priorities until I saw two blue lines appear on the test. Suddenly, I had much bigger things to worry about. Brad who?

What was it like after you got the positive test?


Our series of mom bloggers we love runs throughout May in honor of Mother's Day. Click here to see them all.
 

Image via Daquella manera/Flickr