It's been a little more than 11 months since I got married.

In that time, I've noticed people have certain expectations for married folks. These expectations must be outlined in a handbook for married people my husband and I didn't receive, as we're clearly not following the rules laid out for us by the rest of the world.

The first rule we've obviously broken has to do with my career. Everyone naturally assumed I would quit my job and become a full-time housewife once I said, "I do."

While my husband and I have talked about me staying home once we have kids, it's just not something I want to do before then. I'm not the kind of person who could be happy sitting at home every day, knitting socks and baking bread like some sort of June Cleaver type. I'd get bored in a big hurry.

But people aren't shy about telling me on a regular basis that a good wife doesn't mind being at home, waiting on her husband hand and foot.

Um, OK. I'll be sure to get right on that.

The second rule we've broken has to do with the expectations people have about when you should start having children.

Clearly the majority of our family and friends don't mind pointing out that -

GASP!

- my biological clock is ticking and we simply must get with it if we're going to have the 2.5 children today's society expects.

As part of this baby obsession, it would seem I can't even have a sniffle or an upset stomach without someone insisting I must be pregnant.

Just this past weekend I had a bad case of the flu. My sister (who means well but usually just drives me crazy) kept advising me that I should really take a pregnancy test. She even sent me an e-mail completely filled with the phrase "Shari is pregnant." It really didn't help much with my nausea.

Prior to that, a coworker of mine had suggested the same thing on several occasions. If I so much as mentioned not feeling well or being tired, she would immediately start informing everyone that I was expecting a visit from the friendly stork.

Arguing with people on this issue usually proves futile, as they just take it as more evidence that I am expecting and just don't want anyone to know. So I don't even bother to defend myself anymore. I figure the rumor surely will die when nine months goes by and I haven't popped out a baby.

But the news isn't all bad. Apparently, my husband and I are managing to follow at least one of the rules set up for married people.

That rule - number four - has to do with buying a house.

We've been house hunting for three months now without much luck. We'd made offers on two houses but didn't get either of them. However, two weeks ago, we got lucky. An offer we made had been accepted.

This apparently was the big news of the day, as my mom told everyone and their brother about it before we even had a chance to offer up many details.

However, the excitement surrounding our first home purchase quickly exploded when people found out it's a four-bedroom house. I had no idea why this would send everyone we know into a tizzy. Then someone told me.

Apparently, rule number four reverts back to rule number two - people only buy four bedroom houses if they have a reason to fill those bedrooms.

I guess I should have known.