It's inevitable. I will turn into a wuss.

As a crime reporter, I do spend a lot of time talking with police, specifically homicide detectives, and on a daily basis I write about horrible things, alleged perpetrators of said things and victims of atrocities. 

Normally, I can leave my emotions at home before I head to work. But lately, I've found, they've been following me around like a puppy dog in need of constant nurturing.

The prospect of taking a year-long break from the job I love isn't the only thing that makes me blubber lately - the crimes themselves are starting to get to me. I've turned into an on-and-off emotional wreck.

I noticed it this week when tears threatened to cloud my vision while I read about Karissa Boudreau, a woman who admitted to killing her 12-year-old daughter.

Is this another side effect of owning a placenta? Another one of progesterone's mean jokes?

Probably not, a male editor has told me.

Such emotions (darn it) seem to come with having kids. Since his were born he's had a markedly lower threshold for real-life gore. "I can't even read that stuff anymore," he said recently. "I think of my own kids in that situation and it haunts me."

Great - another thing for me to worry about post mat leave! The Lentil is going to turn me into a total wuss!

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[Correction]

Karissa was the murder victim, not the murderer.