amy w

Spent yesterday replaying some of my favorite Amy Winehouse tracks. If I could drink I would toast her with a good red wine, so instead I will highlight some of my favorite lyrics.

He walks away, the sun goes down
He takes the day but I'm gone
And in your way and in this blue shade
My tears dry on their own.

So we are history, your shadow covers me
The sky above, a blaze.

I wish I could sing no regrets and no emotional debts
'Cause as we kiss goodbye the sun sets
So we are history, the shadow covers me
The sky above, a blaze only lovers see.

staving off the inevitable

Since I developed gestational diabetes while pregnant with Mags, it can only be a matter of time before I am told to cut out sugar, refined grains - and generally anything that's fun to eat - and to start pricking myself with a needle four times a day. Of course I should be cutting out the bad stuff anyway (in addition to counting how many calories I am ingesting daily, which sounds like NO FUN and WORK to me), but since I am now perpetually hungry, congested and emotional, I am going to eat whatever the frick I want until I am told otherwise.

Don't get me wrong, I still abide by the federal law that mandates five servings of fruits or veggies a day. It's just the stuff in between. Like the small plate of Cheetos (okay, three plates) that I inhaled yesterday. Normally I don't eat chips and the like but something about that overly processed cheese sensation was calling me. Or today. Two scoops of pistachio ice cream, right on the heels of a bag of organic carrots. Mmm, that's fusion.

I estimate I have about a month of fairly unrestricted eating before the hammer falls. Why not celebrate that time with pie, tortillas and more pie?

Oh, pie.

enough with the peanut gallery

Is there a sign on my head that says: "Comments About My Twins Welcome?" I didn't think so.

Since I officially pooched last week and can no longer hide my rapidly expanding midsection, I've been hit with all manner of comments from family, friends and strangers alike. Some of them very nice and positive. Like, "I always wanted to be a twin." "How fun it will be to shop." Or, "You should probably grow your hair out."

But some of the feedback has not been as nice. Like the guy I work with who recoiled in horror and said, "Twins?? I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy! And you have another kid already?" Or the woman at the pharmacy who said, "My sister had twins. At least she is young and can keep up with them."

People probably have preconceived notions about twins and they are just projecting. This is what I tell myself.

Today I was relieved to actually talk to a woman who has 18 month old twin boys. We were having a phone conversation but by the end, I was ready to jump through the phone line and French kiss her. She listened to my questions about co-sleeping, nursing pillows and spit up. She assured me that I would eventually leave the house and be able to bathe. No judgement, no pitying tone of voice. Where'd she been all my first trimester?

This afternoon I will attend a large department meeting and am bracing for the comments when I stand in the dessert line. (Because I will, probably several times.) I'm working on some retorts:

- Fuck off.
- I'm hormonal. Fuck off.
- I'm hormonal. (Dabs at imaginary tears). Can't you just fuck off?

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