So, for the past six months I’ve been resisting the domination of the CWITs. (And Seattle folks, that’s pronounced see-wits. And for those with short-term memories, it stands for Corporate Wives-in-Training.) I haven’t had a manicure, a wax, or an Ann Taylor shopping spree. I speak with derision of Hah-vahd and those who attend (and yes, to their faces. Believe me, all of Adam’s sectionmates are used to me by now). 
I’ve been rude, crude, and generally unpleasant to be around. I have fought. And I was winning. Until now. Yes, I am succumbing to the siren call of the CWITs. Where others have resisted, I have fallen prey. I am not only embracing a CWIT lifestyle, I shall be moving beyond it. I will be taking my wifely duties to the next level.
The MAMs. It’s true. I’ve skipped CWITness in its entirety and am moving directly to the next tier. Do not pass Saks, do not collect alimony. Go straight to the Mommies and Me. Adam and I are breeding. What does this mean for you, dear reader (I’m suddenly channeling Jane Austen)? There will rants about how an over-educated professional woman may not be able to afford to continue working because childcare is ridiculously expensive (and won’t that be exciting for you, dear reader, if I become a stay-at-home CWIT MAM). There will be reports of the battle for Baby Hah-vahd’s soul (if you think Adam’s Republican ways are going to influence my child, you’ve got another think coming! This baby will be violet, thank you very much, without a dash of green or crimson). You will still have the same sarcastic, bitter me, only with more random raging hormonal outbursts. If you think it’s a joy for you, imagine what life is like for Adam right now. I’ll try to steer clear of the medical crap (although it may slip through) and focus on the joys of being a Hah-vahd mother as I try to keep my alter CWIT ego, Jennifer, at bay. Baby Hah-vahd is due September 10. It’s going to be quite a ride, folks.
