Sleep? Why yes, I remember a time when I achieved 8 hours a night. But it was……so long ago. It seems like a myth, a legend. I can faintly recall a time when I would fall asleep at 10:30pm and sleep soundlessly and peacefully until 7:30am. No longer. Lately I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night to one of you gently stomping on my bladder while the other one climbs carelessly into my ribcage. “What are you doing in there?” I ask and only receive two swift kicks to the midsection for my unwelcome curiosity.
During the day I shuffle around, a zombie, massaging my belly and droning on slowly about “Sleeeeeeep. I want sleeeeeep”. I’ve rummaged through all of our closets and pulled out any additional pillows we have, throwing them on the bed, tossing them under my abdomen, between my knees, beneath my hips, trying to trick my body into believing it’s comfortable.
Perhaps this is God’s gentle way of preparing us for what’s coming…….or perhaps this is God’s cruel way of punishing me for being a woman. John has been rubbing my back and lubing my torpedo-esque belly up with both baby oil and olive oil. I don’t know if the latter actually helps but I read somewhere that it does wonders and, low and behold, no stretch marks on the belly…….yet.
Your dad has been reading you parts of Moby Dick, Ender’s Game and Corduroy. The first is about a monstrous whale that eats people, the second is about a boy who destroys an entire species of aliens and the third is about a fuzzy little stuffed animal that gets lost in a mall. Look at you, not even zero and you’re already SO well read.
Two days ago John blew a raspberry on my belly and freaked one of you out….BIG time. You leapt and lashed out with your foot, kicking him in the face. It was a serious power house move – something Jean Claude van Dang would have done. It was so funny I asked him to do it again. The second time was so funny I asked him to do it again but he became afraid that he was going to give you a complex or blow out your eardrum. Allow me to explain…..your father is a wonderful person but is a serious neurotic mess. For example, it makes him exceptionally nervous when remote controls are pointed at him, he won’t stand in the same room with a microwave and he blatantly REFUSES to drive over 30mph when not on the freeway.
Earlier in the week we went to a birth class at Kaiser that explained what to expect when you’re expecting a pregnancy. During the graphical recreation of a birth a middle aged gentleman passed out in front of like 60 people. Some doctors and security guards came in and escorted him out, his wife in tow. I bet they were both really embarrassed. Weakling.
We started writing out your birth plan and thinking about what to bring in our overnight bag during our hospital visit. Grandma Kathy brought us a suitcase filled with your dad’s old baby clothes last month and you’ll be wearing some of them home for your very first trip. This whole situation is really blowing our minds. We are SO excited to see what you look like and sound like and we are so incredibly excited to meet you and introduce you to the world at large. Do you know what Taco Bell is? Can you say “Chalupa?”
Seven weeks is right around the corner and it’s probably going to sneak up on us faster than we imagine. In fact, I’m already having anxiety dreams where I lose you in stores, forget your names and can’t tell you apart and ones where you don’t like me. Even your dad had a dream a few months ago where one of you was the wrong ethnicity and he forgot to name you and our dogs didn’t like you.
Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a solid night long dream…..
Have you ever heard of a baby shower? It’s mostly a bunch of chicks getting together and heeing and hawing over doilies and flowery diapers. Boo.
For YOUR baby shower a bunch of our friends got together to throw us / you a twin themed costume party. The twin girls from The Shining showed up, The Hammer Bros. made an appearance, Copy / Paste, Batman and Robin and…..The Minnesota TWINS were all there!! We were even lucky enough to have both grandmas out here for your big event; one dressed as a proctologist (butt specialist) and the other as a 2 pair (I’ll let you guess where John gets his neurotic tendencies. HINT, it’s not the 2 pair). It was amazing! Your dad wanted to either go as Twin Mattresses or the Twin Towers and since I considered the second to be in poor taste we opted to make our costumes from our (my) bare hands. Below you can behold the photos.
Finally, a call from our tax adviser this evening advised us that you being born before the end of the year would be quite a BIG benefit to your ol’ folks’ government contribution – so pack your bags. You’re gonna be Christmas babies.