One of the great things about everyone knowing I'm pregnant with twins is that they can now stop pretending that I'm not showing already. When I know that I look like I just swallowed a baby armadillo, it's eye rolling-ly funny to hear, "You're not showing at all!" I'm just saying: please tell me I don't look like this all the time.
Maternity swim suits suck. The end.
Doing twin research while actually pregnant with twins is a bad idea. If there is even the remotest possibility that you could ever end up with twins, do the research before you get pregnant. Otherwise, you will end up a sobbing bucket of irrational fears. "It's not a pretty picture--I don't like doing it!"(Name that quote!)
I am working on my mooching skills. Some days this goes better than others. Today, I had a friend tell me that I need to take better advantage of being the Man's wife. As in, "Do you not know who I am? You'd better help me, or I'll make sure you are given ten thousand tickets!" And that is the advantage of marrying Security Forces, people. If only I could learn how to throw some of my soon-to-be-expansive weight around.
Unlike previous pregnancies, I have been craving Indonesian food like there's no tomorrow. Naturally, this happens now that we live no where near an Indonesian restaurant. Thankfully, my mom sent me a care package with some IndoMie in it, and then today I busted out the nasi goreng (fried rice) spice packets. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of looking at the ingredients list. Never do that with foods you love. MSGed!!! (And name that quote.)
Never underestimate the power of a clean kitchen floor. A friend of mine took Littles for the afternoon, and since I was one kid down, I finally decided to tackle the mopping. You couldn't see the bottom of the sink by the time I was done, the water was so gross. But now, I feel happier and healthier, and am considering making the boys eat outside for the next six and a half months so that I never have to mop again. That wouldn't be crazy, would it?
There are guardian angels whose sole purpose is to track down the run away dogs of twin-pregnant women with toddlers. Twice in one week, Trig-dog? Do we need to talk about the possibility of turning you into a rug again? Do we?
Somehow, vacuuming has turned into an extreme sport that requires pee breaks, hydration, and sitting down with my feet up. Someone explain this to me.
Other kids fall through the cracks. Just being honest. I showed up at the playground this morning around 930 and looked down at Tiny only to realize last night's diaper, which had not yet been changed, was starting to sag down through the bottom of his pajama shorts, which he was still wearing.
I eat chocolate these days like I'm recovering from a Dementor attack. And sometimes cake for breakfast. Don't judge. I'm trying to give the twins a good start in life.
This version of pregnancy brain is killing me, Smalls. I can't even put together coherent thoughts. Case in point: this blog!
I am now officially a one upper. "You're pregnant! Oh, wow! Me too!" Pause for effect. "And my husband's deployed." Pause again. "And it's twins." Privately think: eat that, sucker!!! (This is a joke--just clarifying.) But seriously, how did this happen? Don't answer that.
