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?

You like?

why?

There is a NEW Smurfs movie coming out.

I thought those annoying blue bastards were history years ago. Who thought that redubbing their voices and putting them in a new film would make them appealing? Who LIKES these a-holes??

another rabbit bites the dust

I can't keep it from you anymore. The deceit, the evasiveness...its become too much to bear. I swore from day one I'd be honest with you, faithful readers. You deserve that, and so much more.

What am I talking about?

Oh, I'm pregnant! Ha ha! Today's ultrasound confirmed it. But wait, there's MORE! As in more than one baby. Uh huh. Yours truly is 12 weeks and 3 days pregnant with twins.

I'll let you chew on that for a second while I get up and pee.

...I'm back! How do you feel? Shock? Yeah, me too. Hasn't sunk in yet, the reality that at the end of the year I will have three kids, two of them newborn, and that we have to put all of them through college. Wow. Who knew? I don't even have IVF to thank for this surprise turn of events. Nope. One round of Clomid, combined with six months of acupuncture, and WHAM! Instant high-risk pregnancy.

Will write more soon. Must lie down, maybe eat a rack of lamb. They take a lot out of you, twinsies.

Start thinking of names, will you?

dinner with sybil

"Magnus, it's time to eat dinner."

"I don't want eat dee-nuh."

"Okay, but it's dinner time. Mommy and Daddy are going to eat. You can sit with us or go play in your room."

"I DONT WANT EAT DEE-NUH!!"

"I heard you the first time. So I will repeat: you can sit and have dinner with us or go play in your room."

Child pouts and slowly exits the kitchen, reiterating once more that he has no desire to ingest a meal. Parents pause for a moment and then sit down at the dining room table. They begin to eat and enjoy a pleasant conversation. Two minutes later, the peaceful environment is shattered by a series of ear-splitting shrieks.

Father stands up as the child re-enters the dining area, weeping and looking betrayed.

"I WANT DEE-NUH!!"

Sigh.

i need a chill pill

I'm happy to say that Magnus, J and I are doing well now. This was not the case a month ago, when Magnus had to go to the hospital, I was stricken by the stomach flu and J passed out at an event in New York and had to be taken by ambulance to the ER.

Did I mention these unfortunate incidents took place within days of each other? Yep. We live on the edge, us three.

The upside is that nobody is permanently damaged. J basically had the same GI issue that I did, jumped on a plane and got dehydrated, which caused him to faint. Fixable. I was back on my feet within 24 hours after my bug hit. And Magnus was hospitalized for the same issue (respiratory synnctial virus, or RSV) last year. We knew he needed breathing treatments and some steroids. After a day in the hospital, he was just fine. And he's been fine since.

So why do I feel consumed - nay, nearly paralyzed - with worry?

It's not a pleasant sensation. I'll be doing something mundane, like washing the dishes, and Magnus will let out a small cough. My heart catches and sinks. Do I grab the inhaler? His respiratory issues often come on suddenly, without warning. Do I get ahead of the situation and give him drugs that he might not need? Make him lie down? Is he doomed to a life of wheezing, since his pediatrician can't tell yet if he actually has asthma?

Over the weekend J said he was tired. I felt the same anxiety start to creep up. Maybe the ER docs missed something when they examined him and he has a congenital heart issue. He assured me he was fine but I still found the need to lay my head on his chest and listen for an irregular heart beat. (I did this twice).

I feel you shaking your head at my insanity. I am shaking my noggin too. Who IS this crazy person? When did she lose total grip on reality? I've always considered my parents to be a bit irrational and neurotic. And there's the apple, there's the tree, it hasn't fallen far at all, folks. I'm every bit as wacky as they are.

I am hopeful, however, that this is a temporary situation, brought on by my sudden surge in hormones. That I will return to a more tranquil life, beset by love and serenity, with an occasional appearance by Bambi. It's not possible for someone to remain in a suspended state of paranoia, is it?

Or am I the special, chosen one???