A funny thing happened on the way to the delivery room.

Generally, the most often used adjective to describe my personality is "intimidating." I think people think that this is a nice way of saying "aggressive," "stand-offish," or "complete bitchface." Truth be told, I'm not that mean -- at least, not as mean as some people would like to believe. I just am rather straightforward which can put people off -- especially military wives. But in any case, my title as scariest woman in the unit is currently wavering. And it's all my fault.

I've never been an overly emotional girl -- except maybe for anger. I didn't get worked up over photos of cute kittens. I thought calendars with photos of babies on them were stupid (my best friend had the whole Anne Geddes collection and I thought she had lost her damn mind). And I usually laughed my way through the end of sappy movies (except "Pretty in Pink" which just made me mad -- why did she not have the sense to pick Duckie? Why,God, why?!)

But then, something happened. I got pregnant with my son. My hormones ran wild and, all of a sudden, it became apparent that not only was I living in an emotional world, but that, yes, I, too, was an emotional girl.

My life changed overnight. I started to cry during the happy endings of movies. I was completely thrown by AT&T commercials. And I'd see some dude playing with his kid in the park and be overwhelmed by the sweetness of a father's love. It was pathetic. And yet, I could not stop.

I thought that the roller coaster ride would be over once I gave birth. But, like most of the shit I expected once I actually popped the kid out, I was dead wrong. If anything, I'm even more emotional these days. I have an empathy for other mothers that causes me to tear up when I hear stories about a child's horrible, bleeding diaper rash. I still cry at just about anything on television. And if you even put a Nicholas Sparks book near me -- the books that I scorned just a few years earlier as pointless, overdone tripe -- I will start to cry with such a ferocity that I might never stop. This affliction may well kill me one day.

But I hit an all new low while watching the Golden Globes the other night. I watch awards shows to feel superior. To make fun of the funny hair and dresses (thanks, Vanessa Williams!) and, of course, to feel personally robbed when my favorite shows and movies don't win any awards. But this time around, they had a surprise for me. When America Ferrera won her award for best actress, and started to genuinely cry with the surprise and happiness, I started to cry right along with her. I was so damn happy for her! And then when she thanked her Mommy, I just lost my shit. I was literally sobbing. I mean, she thanked her Mommy! What a wonderful daughter! So talented, and yet, so grounded.

As I realized what I had just succumbed to, after I filled my fifth tissue with teary snot and the other wives were looking at me like I'd just grown horns, I made my excuses and headed home for the evening. I'd like to think I'm meant to have this new gift for a reason, to love on my kid like he deserves and to forgive my husband for being a dork, stuff like that. But if I'm to keep it up, I'm going to have to stop watching television with the other wives. Otherwise, I'm totally going to ruin my rep.