A co-worker reached out to me about the twins yesterday. With mono-di boy twins of her own, I was thrilled to chat with her after work. She answered so many questions, offered heaps of assurance, and gave such practical advice. It was one of those good conversations with perfect timing. Just the thing I needed, especially considering the pages of notes, calculations, plans, and lists I have in my journal. Pages.
Valentine's Day was simple this year which meant I was very happy. I woke early to make strawberry cupcakes [because I'm all about strawberry everything this pregnancy: dried, frozen, coffee cake style, in spread form... I could go on] and Paul made me sushi at home for the 1st time. There's nothing more charming than my husband working his magic in the kitchen. I don't think he was pleased with his efforts, later naming them "rice rolls" for their partiality toward the white stuffing, but I was smitten with his thoughtfulness. I ate as many "rice rolls" as my belly would accept.
58 days left of school. 20 weeks, 2 days pregnant. Less than 15 weeks left until we hit average gestation for twin pregnancy. 22 days until I hit up a twin consignment sale. 23 days until I board a plane for the 1st time ever and fly to California for my uber-delayed honeymoon.
Just some stream-of-consciousness numbers for you.
Oh, and this. Four books calling me in my sleeping and in my waking. They're literary haunted houses. At every turn, a new scare. In every chapter, a new shock. And not just those medical stories of the NICU or underweight babies or schedules so chaotic I will need to morph into part drill sergeant, part saint in the next four months. I'm talking horrors right up my alley, those scares that are perfectly crafted to freak me out and unnerve me: moms who were stunningly perfect in their twindom glory and are in the book to tell us all about it. Crap! There are one-uppers here too?!
A bird just starting tweeting in a tree outside my sun room. Is there anything more lovely than having quiet time in the dark morning and listening, waiting, watching for the world and your home to wake up? This slice of solitude has my soul overflowing with contentment and peace.
Speaking of my house waking, this lovely just toed his way in with his two adornments: Polar Bear and Cuddle Bear. Yes, it's a panda, not a polar bear...and I can't figure out for the life of me why he won't concede on that point. The closest I got yesterday from him was: "It's not a panda. It's a polar bear panda." And "cuddle bear" is the one and only beloved stuffed animal from my childhood. I made quite the mistake when I told him he should protect her because she was mommy's. I'm pretty sure the kid would give life and limb to serve her majesty.
I'm all out of quick takes and if I did manage another one it would be about twins. I'll spare you.
Have a wonderful weekend!