The Luck We Get

Sometimes Leo and Ellie will disappear into Ellie's room (where much of the dress-up garb is housed) for a looong time. They emerge, and something like this is the result (styling by Ellie).

"Some luck lies in not getting what you thought you wanted but getting what you have, which once you have got it you may be smart enough to see is what you would have wanted had you known."--Garrison Keillor, Lake Wobegon Days

When I was pregnant with Leo, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't "right" with the pregnancy. It was just three years after the death of my beloved mother, the person who was my touchstone, to whom I looked to for virtually everything. To say that my faith in the universe was shaken would be an understatement. If she could up and die? Then why couldn't there be something wrong with the baby? Anything could happen. Anything was possible. (In my mind, at that point, the "Anything" would inevitably be bad.)

I tried to reassure myself about "the baby." I tried to tell myself that Everything Was Going to Be Fine. After a lot of soul searching, we declined prenatal testing. But then some suspicious markers showed up at the 20-week ultrasound and I was terrified. Of course, I remember thinking, as I stared up at the ceiling in the tiny exam room at the maternal fetal medicine center at Mt. Sinai Hospital. Of course there is something wrong with the baby.

But then then the doctor did a bit more investigating and another doctor peered at the screen. There was blood work. Actually, everything looked fine. Screen negative: Your baby does not have down syndrome.

Bullet: Dodged. Relief.
***
About a week before my due date, Erin and I both read an article in a magazine that mentioned a baby with Down syndrome. It was quite a story, about a couple whose baby had died when the father had inadvertently left him in the car. They went on to have another child--who was born with Down syndrome.

Can you imagine? I asked Erin. Having a baby die, only to have another who is born with Down syndrome? I uttered  "Down syndrome" with such disgust, as if the word itself was contagious and that saying it alone would reach in and add a chromosome to our unborn baby.

"Oh I don't know," Erin replied. (Even back then she was a more highly evolved person than I am.) "All the people I've met with Down syndrome seem pretty happy. It doesn't seem like the end of the world to me. Not by a long shot. I think I can think of a lot worse things happening."

I shook my head in disgust and disagreement. Oh no, I remember thinking. That would be the end of my world, for sure.

But, you know how it goes: "People make plans, God laughs."
***

I named this blog in a rush one day--typing one of the the first things that came to my mind when I thought about what Down syndrome meant to me and before I realized I might actually write here and people might someday, you know, read what I wrote.

In reality, I don't exactly believe that everything happens for a reason. I actually think that life is really quite random.  The whole, "Special babies for special parents," (we heard that one when Leo was born, along with another favorite "God doesn't give you what you can't handle"--to which my favorite refrain is: If that's true then I wish he didn't think I could handle so much!) while being well-intentioned, is to me, merely a good wish. Down syndrome is random. Science has proven it. There is no reason why it happens or why one baby has perfect chromosomes and another has an extra one, or one missing. I've said it before and I'll say it again. If I've learned anything after three pregnancies and four babies and births? It's a miracle any of us are here at all.

You think you have things all figured out, you think you have a plan and then...Down syndrome. Or, I don't know...twins. "People make plans, God laughs," will truly always be one of my favorite quotes.  The lesson in all of this, to me, is not so much that what happens, happens for a reason, but rather to try and learn something from what did happen. To try and make the best of things, no matter how hard or scary that might be. Leo having Down syndrome? If that's not almost the complete opposite of what I thought I wanted, then I don't know what is.

But, look. Here we are. Having a pretty good time if I do say so. And here's Leo, enjoying his life as usual. He almost always knows how to have fun.

January, 2012

And we are so very lucky to have him.

Memorial Day Memories

This weekend marks the one year anniversary of our last weekend before babies. I know I've said it approximately fifty bajillion times, but I still can't believe how much things have changed in a year.

The view from here, last Memorial Day. Giant red blob = Harry and Lucy, three days before birth.

The view today. Things are definitely busier these days, but these babies are way more fun on the outside. My ankles are much happier (and thinner!) too.

One Year Ago

A year ago today I got my first "officially" positive pregnancy test (as in, a blood test at the doctor's office).

It was a spectacular, crystal clear, classic New York City fall day. The sky was perfectly blue, the air was crisp, the leaves on the trees in Bryant Park were beginning to change. I had the blood work done before work and walked, a little giddy and a bit in disbelief, to my office on Sixth Avenue. It didn't seem possible. Pregnant. On the first try.

That's when I had the feeling. I knew I was bleeding. And I was pretty sure the pregnancy was not to be.

How ironic, I thought, to start bleeding just minutes after the test. How cruel.

As soon as I got to work I called Erin and told her what was happening.

"Well, so much for that one," I said quietly, apologetically. "I'm sorry. It was too good to be true I guess. But we'll try again."

She agreed with every word and told me she was sorry too, but that maybe things would still be OK?

A few hours later the nurse called me back with my "numbers" (the results of the level of pregnancy hormones).

"Oh, that's OK," I said to her when she told me the numbers were "very reassuring."

"I've been bleeding all morning," I said. "I don't think it's going to work out."

When I got home from work that night, I had a large glass of wine. Why not? I wasn't pregnant after all.

The bleeding stopped within a day. A week later I started feeling exhausted and nauseous.

Reason for Exhaustion and Nausea #1

Reason for Exhaustion and Nausea #2

Little did I know just how very pregnant I was.

And what a difference a year makes.

The Explosion and the Aftermath

“What happened to my life? It feels like it just exploded.”
These are lines from a movie that I cannot, for the life of me, remember. Shocking I’m sure, knowing my eternally sleep-deprived state. All I know is, these lines popped into my brain the other day and I have not been able to get them out. Because it’s exactly how I feel.

Let me step back and say that I would not for a minute, wish that anything had gone differently than it did, or has. I love, love, love the babies. But I would be lying if I said that life has been anything other than a bit, well, crazy lately.

Of course it has, you’re thinking. You’ve gone from two kids to four. You have two newborns.

But I'm a bit of a control freak. And my life has never been messier than it is right now (and I mean that both literally and figuratively).

It’s all so complicated.

Most people of a certain age, I think, have momentous events in their life, some good, some bad, nevertheless they are moments of demarcation: Before this, my life was this and after? It was never the same. I think I’ve had that happen three times now.

1. When I found out my mom had cancer and she was dead four months later (that was one long moment of demarcation.)

2. When Leo was born with Down syndrome.

3. When my doctor calmly and coolly announced at my six week ultrasound, “You have twins.”

And life, as they say, was never the same.

It reminds me of one of my favorite sayings: "People make plans, god laughs."

Oh, and that other one: Everything Happens for a Reason.

And on that cloudy November day last year, I promptly burst into tears when Dr. T. made the proclamation and turned the ultrasound monitor in our direction to show two perfectly round sacs, two little people, with two tiny heartbeats, already. How would we ever do this? I wasn’t completely surprised, I’ll admit. I’d been sick since the pregnancy test showed the "plus" sign and my hormone levels at my five week blood draw had been a bit high. There was a bit of foreshadowing and I had a feeling, but denial is fierce. We’d had two singletons the exact same way we’d become pregnant with our “third.” There was no way it could be twins this time.

But it was. And of course, they are.

Lucy and Harry, 10 weeks
My biggest fear when we learned our third would actually be our third and fourth, was for Leo. How would we possibly be able to give him everything he needs with our attention and resources so stretched?

Thank goodness for Dr. T., who in that moment of discovery said all the right things. I can’t say that I (pretty hysterical and hyperventilating) remember all that much of what was said, I just know he made me feel better. It was something along the lines of:

A) You can do this.
B) You aren’t the first people to do this.
C) You have plenty of love to go around.
D) You will surprise yourselves.
E) This might actually be a good thing for the children you already have, especially Leo.

I’ve worried since that cloudy November day about my capacity to do This, this mothering of four, this having twins, properly. I’ve mourned the loss of our “easy” life, the closeness I had with Leo and Ellie that has temporarily (I hope) been sidelined by the constant neediness of the babies.

The last two months have been the hardest two months of my life. Scratch that. Life since November of last year has been pretty rough. Of course it hasn’t all been bad. Leo and Ellie were ecstatic when we told them about the babies and their enthusiasm for the most part, hasn't budged (except maybe when Harry pulls one of his screamathons in the minivan). But. I got sick right away with the twins and by the time I’d recovered from the “morning sickness” (which was really all day sickness), I was physically encumbered. Huge and heavy and swollen and yes, grouchy. In a sense, things have been out of control since the start of all of this, this twin journey.

And yet. These babies.


When I finally broke the news at work that I was not only pregnant but that it was twins, news traveled fast. I returned from lunch one day to a congratulatory email from a colleague. “You are one brave woman,” she wrote. And went on to say how happy she was for me and my beautiful, growing family.

“Brave! I’ll say,” I typed back, my response tinged with fear and uncertainty and a healthy dose of what have we done/what is going to become of us? (not sure if she could read between the lines). “I can think of another one!” My list was long: terrified and crazy topped it.

The email alert on my computer chimed almost instantly:
“I can think of another word too,” she responded. “How about, lucky?”

I am many things these days. Tired, broken, depleted, short-tempered, overwhelmed. But this too shall pass. I know this. And also?

Lucky.

And that’s all I really have to remember.

Flashback Friday

The babies are just over a month old. It's hard to believe how much has happened in a month, how much life has changed. Yes, yes, cue the cliches.

May 24, 2011. Seven days pre-baby. Look at those arm veins. Yeesh, the swelling! My whole right side went puff.

On June 1, I went to a routine OB appointment. My blood pressure was a little high, but it was also about 200 degrees outside and the humidity was about 110 percent. I had a high a risk appointment scheduled for the the afternoon so my OB told me to have my pressure rechecked then.

I had about two hours to kill before my next doctor's appointment. So I did what any hugely pregnant woman would do on a hot summer day. I went to Target. I limped around the aisles, my sciatica screaming. I tried my best to relish my fleeting days of freedom (both Leo and Ellie were in school). I took myself out to lunch at Baja Fresh (doesn't everyone want to visit the salsa bar right before delivery?). But little did I know this would be my last supper.

Three hours later at my high risk appointment, my blood pressure was 190 over something equally bad. After the pressure check, the nurse told me to go back to the waiting room and the doctor would see me in a few minutes. Two minutes later that same nurse leaned over and quietly asked me when I had last eaten. That's when I knew. It was Babies Day.

An hour later, this was me. Waiting for Erin to get to the hospital. Man it was hot. Can you tell? That little room they had me in was a furnace. Or maybe I was the furnace, gestating two humans on a 90+ day. It was all so surreal. Even when you are due to give birth any day I don't think you wake up in the morning believing you will actually, you know, give birth. Sidenote: I can't believe I am posting this picture. I guess it's for posterity or something, but I think I can kiss any political career goodbye.

I made Erin take this one on the way to the delivery room.

And just like that:


Harry aka Hair Bear.

Little Lucy aka Peanut

Well, it wasn't quite "just like that." But it didn't take long.

I just love this picture. Look how happy Erin looks. Even her eyes are smiling. Babies! Two of them!

Two Weeks, One Day

Look! Something other than babies!

Ellie got a haircut. Nice and clean and short and sassy for the summer.

As we were leaving the mall where the hair salon is, Ellie insisted I take a picture of her in front of this "pink girl."
********************************************************************************************************************************
I'm feeling pretty good. I get a little "down" around 5 p.m. many days, as the wall of exhaustion hits me (yes, yes, I'm horrible about the whole "sleep when the baby sleeps" thing. I need to nap more). I dread a little the coming long night and the waking every two hours. Last night the babies took an unprecedented one and a half hour nap between 9 and 10:30 p.m. I should have slept too but instead I did pointless stuff like put away laundry and play on the computer. I was so tired that I really accomplished nothing though, didn't even successfully order diapers (too overwhelmed).

The babies are two weeks and one day old today. Little Lucy's umbilical cord is hanging on by a thread (my babies are already growing up--sniff!). I can already feel time fleeting by. I want to keep them squishy little newborns, even though I am beyond tired.

I had my two week OB check-up today. It was very slam, bam, thank you ma'am. The nurses oohed and ahed over the babies and I lost fifty pounds (yikes!) but other than that, it was pretty uneventful. It's weird to think how much time I spent going to appointments while pregnant with these babies and that's all over now. The pregnancy flew by. So much happened in the last nine months. We found it was twins in November, the weekend after Halloween. So there was fall and the incredibly snowy winter and the months and months (and months) of morning/ALL DAY sickness. There was a long winter break home with the kids, so nauseous it was all I could do to entertain Leo and Ellie, but I was so determined to give them a "fun vacation" since this would be our last winter break without babies, as a family of four.

And all along these two little people were with us, with me.


And now they are here. And it's like we've always known them, even though we've only just met.

Harry Allen & Lucy Grace

Leo got his wish.

Babies came out!

Harry Allen, aka "Baby A," born June 1, 2011 at 8:24 p.m., 7 pounds, 11 ounces, 19 inches long.

Lucy Grace, aka "Baby B," born at 8:25 p.m. 6 pounds, 13 ounces, 18.5 inches long.


Leo met his baby brother.


Ellie got to hold "the girl one."

We are overwhelmed and in love.

Slow Stormy Mornings and Dear Babies, Leo Loves You Already, But Please Get Off My Left Back Side

It was dark as twilight at dawn, yesterday morning. I woke to a black, foreboding sky and the glare of the street lamp outside. Next to me was a little tangle of legs and arms (most nights, Leo and Ellie end up in our bed at some point). Minutes later, the soundtrack was the crash of thunder and what sounded like a lightening strike across the street (it wasn't, but it was darn close).

One of the sweetest things about being home with the kids now is the slow, early mornings. For the next few weeks, I’m still getting them off to school but knowing I don’t have to get dressed and into the city just lessens the tension. Of course, these mornings sometimes dawn a bit earlier than I might like.

And of course, there was no school yesterday, so it was a particularly "slow" morning. Yesterday Leo was up around 6 a.m., his usual time. I made coffee and he read and played Legos and drew for a while before he finally asked for TV. An hour or so later Ellie called to me from upstairs. There were tears.

“I want you to come lie down with me Mommy! In my bed!”

I told her I was downstairs, that Leo was watching “Jake and the Never Land Pirates” (the new fave around here) and why didn’t she come join us?

She was not budging. There were more tears. And more demands for me to join her in "her bed." And so, because I could, because there were no lunches to be packed or clothes to be picked out and negotiated onto cranky bodies, I went upstairs and joined Ellie in her bed, in her dark, little room. She moved close to me, and we were shoulder to shoulder and she breathed a deep, satisfied sigh.

A few minutes later, Leo emerged from downstairs and burst into Ellie's room (as he is apt to do, he's big on grand entrances), holding an envelope. Leo is “into” writing letters these days. He takes the little envelopes from my desk.

(Sample of a recent letter to Grandpa: “Dear Grandpa, Thank you” (you should be getting that gem any day, Grandpa).

He scooted close to me and began kissing my stomach and saying “Hi Babies.”
Then he handed me this:

Inside the envelope (pictured at the top), he wanted to put the drawing, which in case, there is any question, is supposed to be this guy:

And for good measure, he even generously threw in a real, beloved “Wheezy” figure. He wanted to mail this all to the babies.

“But Leo, you know the babies won’t give you that back,” Ellie pointed out, to a concerned looking Leo. “Because babies can’t share.” She nodded, for added emphasis.

Leo, furrow browed, was concerned about this Babies Can't Share News.

“It’s OK buddy, the babies will give you Wheezy back,” I said.

A wave of relief washed over Leo’s little face and he disappeared downstairs, for stamps, no doubt.

***

In other news, Hello summer! It was a hot Memorial Day weekend around here. There was plenty of this.

This one is titled "Leo, I Have A Idea.!" Ellie is constantly coming up with schemes and games and ideas and has no problem telling Leo exactly what to do to execute The Plan. Here they are sliding the Toy Story Guys down the slide into the sprinkler.


And this was where I tried to stay, as much as possible (though with all the snack fetching and hose wrangling and pool re-filling it wasn’t quite as relaxing as it looks).

That red thing? That’s not an inner tube or a beach ball. No, that’s just TWO PEOPLE. Add to everything the the fact that last night, one of the little bodies inside me seems to have shifted or something and the result is a permanent cramp/knot in my lower left, ahem, back-side. Not good and Very Inconvenient. Now it’s hard just going up and down stairs and feels sort of like I’m scaling a mountain.

It feels like there’s a lot more to do but there really isn’t, so I guess I shouldn’t worry about this new, hopefully temporary limitation. I just despise feeling incapacitated in any way (who doesn’t?). After all, I’m the crazy lady shlepping laundry baskets up and down the basement steps or loading cases of seltzer into the back of my mini van at Costco. Or I at least want the option to be able to do this.

But you know what? We are almost there. Which is a good thing, since at this point, my maternity shirts need maternity shirts.

Wednesday This and That

The weather is getting warmer. Summer feels close. Some days are incredibly busy (well, as busy as I can possibly be in the shape I'm in right now). There are many house projects as you can imagine, trying to ready our decidedly not huge (though big enough thank you very much) house for two more people. Good thing those people start out small. Of course Erin is doing the brunt of the work (painting, moving furniture, visiting her friends at Home Depot). I keep getting yelled at for doing things like, oh, you know, washing the baseboards. But don't worry, I'm also doing plenty of laying around. I get little (and I do mean little) burst of energy and I just can't help but do something. And so I do it. And then I'm out of breath and contractiony and so I check the DVR and see if there is anything left to watch (there usually isn't).

Speaking of TV, have you seen this ad?

Watching a fair amount of daytime TV lately I've seen it a lot as it's on serious rotation. I cry every dang time. I know, I know, I'm hormonal. And I'm totally doing cloth diapers so this is in no way some kind of endorsement but still, this ad gets me (don't miss the baby with Down syndrome, of course). I know, I know, I am SUCH a sap right now. I know this. That's half the battle, right?

When I'm not crying hormonal tears, I'm focusing on the big kids and getting their rooms in shape. Monday I went to Ikea and got a couple of these (one for Leo, one for Ellie) which I just LOVE. When Ellie first saw it in her room (Erin put it together when she was at school) she called us upstairs--"Mommy! Come see what's in my room!" as if we didn't know it was there.

They are just so clean and cute and as my friend Lisa put it, an OCDers dream. By the way, I highly recommend going to Ikea largely pregnant. I didn't have to lift a thing! A nice gentleman put two bookshelves in my cart and another nice man in the loading area put the shelves in the van (his words: "I didn't want to find out whether you were having a boy or a girl right here in the parking lot.").

Yesterday we broke out the swimming pools (plastic baby pools). This year we wised up and bought two and of course, Leo and Ellie still had to be in the same pool. Those two, I swear. Pictures of that to come. In the meantime:

I don't know what Leo was mad about here. It seems like someone is always complaining about something, someone is always doing something to annoy someone else. But at the same time, Leo and Ellie get along really well, if that makes sense. (Photo credit for these pics is my friend Dorrine, who was recently here visiting from California).
In other news, yes, it's popsicle season again.

This picture. That belly. Holy cow. That's all I have to say.

Ellie must change her clothes twelve times a day. This was Sunday. I think this was outfit #11.

Leo and two of his favorite things. A ball and his dog.

35 Weeks and Some Tears

I had my first real emotional (i.e. pregnancy/hormonal) meltdown yesterday, which, considering I hit 35 weeks today, is pretty good.

Ellie cried when I left her at school which rarely does anymore. That always puts me in a state and leaves me feeling guilty. It doesn't help that her well-meaning teacher blames everything on the fact that I'm pregnant.

And then, of course, there were some very First World problems, namely, the fact that Costco doesn’t open until 10 a.m. during the week here. I mean, really? I’d bet that fifty percent of their clientele has been awake since at least 7 a.m. I could have been shopped and home by 10 a.m. Also, I bought bananas, and I have no idea where they ended up--I just know they did not make it home with me.

But it was nothing a good cry and a sweet Origins goodie bag from Erin couldn’t fix. The best part was a scented rice-filled pillow that you microwave and put on your shoulders. It was absolutely made for my little eucalyptus fetish.

My right hand is now numb 100 percent of the time. The swelling is pretty bad. I’ve decided I am ready to not be pregnant but am not ready for the babies yet. Not sure how that’s going to work out.

But. I’m in no hurry. I almost want to stop time right now. I get teary and my chest feels tight when I think of the enormity of what’s about to happen, how much things are going to change. I want to hold on to this simple time. I’ll never be pregnant again. I’ll never only have two children. The swelling, the itching, the tears. This is the easy part.

Bedtime Chat With Leo

Last night, after we finished books, Leo was getting situated in his bed. As he does any night that I put him to bed, he pulled up my shirt to say goodnight to the babies.

"Goodnight baby, goodnight baby."

The What to Name One of the Babies discussion is still in full force, so I ran two options by Leo. His ability to pronounce the names is something we are considering (it never occurred to me with Ellie although he can say her name just fine).

"How about [Insert Baby A's Prospective Name] or [Insert Baby A's Other Prospective Name]? I asked Leo.

He studied my face for a moment, then broke into a huge grin.

"Rudolph!" He announced, with absolute certainty.

Rudolph, as you might not be shocked to hear, is not one of the names in the running. Rather, Rudolph is the word/name that (blessedly) has replaced "Poopy Head" which, for a while there, Leo was calling anyone and anything, because it was sure to get a rise out of people (Ellie is absolutely lightening quick at tattling "Leo said a bad word!")

"Hmm, I don't know about Rudolph," I said. I repeated the names to Leo and he again chimed in with good old Rudolph.

"You're silly," I said, ruffling his thick sandy hair. Leo rested his head on his purple unicorn Pillow Pet (don't ask), and then shot up again, reached out and felt my stomach.

"When are the babies coming?" he asked.

"One more month, I answered.

"One more month?" Leo repeated, wearing the same frustration both children do when they are told that no, the babies are not coming today or tonight (at least, I hope not).

And then, another big grin from Leo: "One baby, two baby, Happy Mother's Day!"

Truer words have not been spoken, Leo.

Any Day Now

It's begun. The comments. From strangers. Many, many strangers. Often. Nearly every other person, it seems.

"Any day now?" is the favorite question. I just smile and say "Yup!" Then there is the favorite blanket announcement: "You're ready!"

Even though I actually "officially" have Six. More. Weeks.

Today the very helpful woman at Trader Joe's told me that I haven't dropped yet, but that when I do, to go straight to the hospital.

Duly noted.

So if the questions are coming at this pace, now? I wonder what the next few weeks will bring. Or if I will be shamed into being housebound. How dare I submit this belly to the world.

Fun Even Without the Mint Juleps

It's finally spring. It was a gorgeous weekend. We are in that magical period on the east coast before the humidity sets in, when the days are long and warm and comfortable and clear. We spent nearly the whole time outside, which is just my kind of weekend. Erin worked on the yard. I kept her company and provided moral support but no heavy lifting. Honestly it's all I can do to walk across the room/yard/house without gasping for air. It feels like someone or someones are sitting on my chest. Oh wait! They are!

Ellie's BFF had a birthday party.



It was Kentucky Derby themed, replete with pony rides and for the grown ups (and non-pregnant people) mint juleps. Alas.


But seriously, is that not a great theme for a kid party?

I know I say this a lot, but if there's anything cuter than...in this case: little kids riding ponies, especially little girls in party dresses? I'm not sure what that is.

In other, less, cute news: I am so swollen. My hands are like tiny (well, not so tiny) Michelin Men. In the morning I cannot even make a fist with my right hand and it's all I can do to make the all important coffee. I admit I'm frustrated that my last month with two kids is being spent this uncomfortably. I'm frustrated I can't do more and that my mood is somewhat sour much of the time. But, it is what it is and I guess it's understandable, but that certainly doesn't make it any easier for anyone who has to be around me or, well, me.

Yesterday after the party we came home and I took the coldest Eucalyptus scented shower I could stand, to try and help the swelling. I then collapsed into a puddle in front of the Food Channel. Blessedly, these active weekends send the kids to sleep easily and relatively early, so there is some peace in the evenings, which is good, because that's when I'm the most swollen and the most itchy. Don't ask.

Oh and last but not least, Happy Mother's Day!

To Be Filed Under I Should be Blogging More With All This Time: Catch Up Edition

I have a lot of time on my hands. Pretty soon there will be no time. I should be blogging more. I'm settling into this staying home thing. I'm making real dinners (nothing crazy, I promise) and homemade strawberry shortcake (a huge hit, at least, the whipped cream was). It's funny, the little things that decrease one's stress. It's such a relief to know that I can just leave dinner dishes in the sink and realize I can wash them, at my leisure, in the morning. Or in the afternoon! Or whenever!

As thrilling as all that domestic talk is, I guess I don't have all that much to say. I haven't been writing because, well, does anyone want to hear me whine about feeling exhausted, not sleeping, being suddenly very puffy and itchy? The good news is, I successfully got my rings off, with a little help from Erin, baker's spray and olive oil. I waited too long and it hurt and not to be dramatic but it would liken it to a teeny, tiny reminder of the fun of childbirth.

You may also be interested to know that you can watch "Thirtysomething" on Netflix's instantly streaming shows. I have grand plans for most days but have found that one errand in the morning (the grocery or the doctor) pretty much does me in. So, "Thirtysomething" on Netflix it is.

As long as I'm sitting on the couch, I feel great! Albeit, a little sleepy.

32 weeks, six days, today.

I had a doctor's appointment today. Baby B is sitting on Baby A's head, but I imagine they are pretty used to that kind of infringement. Do twins grow up to be more tolerant people, I wonder? In other news, they both have hair! And are estimated at 5.5 and 5.8 pounds. I'm told this is large for this point in the pregnancy, but I hope they have plenty of time to get bigger. I've never had a baby under eight pounds and anything smaller scares me. Oh, my doctor also told me today that I was "born to grow twins." So, maybe I have a new career direction?

In other big news, Ruby (our dog) got a haircut. Note the pink bows (yes we like to humiliate our dog). Please, however, ignore the recycling in the background. This photo was taken in the mudroom which Erin just painted. I am in love with the color, which is the same color we've decided to paint the babies' room. Hmm, do you think Leo loves his dog?

Ellie had her ballet recital last weekend. It was adorable as expected. Not that we're biased.




I was good! I only cried a little.

The other morning Leo woke up a little early before school, early enough to have time to draw. He's into houses right now. He drew the above and I was quite impressed to note that he'd included, without instruction or direction, his address. I have no idea if he just noticed this himself or if he's learning it at school. Either way, I'm proud. By the way, he's sticking his tongue out here, on purpose. Only because I told him not to.