Take it easy rider

Hay chihuahua. Me duele todo. Everything hurts or at the very least aches. Waaa.

Ok. Enough of my complaining. I’ll take you through yesterday’s weigh-in step by step. (I can’t really call regular OB appts anything but weigh-ins b/c technically that and blood pressure are all that are checked. Come on, missy doctor, don’t you want to see my lady parts?? No? You trust me when I say with very little confidence, “I don’t think I’ve had any contractions.” Ooookaaaay.)

First, I once again decided to take Gab with me versus having the usual pissing wars over house territory with E’s mom. I’ve mentioned how she throws everything away when left alone in the house and I subsequently have to don my rattiest hobo attire and wonder out back to sift through my own friggin’ trash. Not cool. After her last many hours here “watching Gab,” she managed to mop the living room floor. She brought her husband with her for back-up…I now know when I see the two of them walk up together, I’m in for major home reconstruction while I’m gone. I spent the next two weeks searching for my eye liner. I just found it yesterday in a BOX OF CRAYONS. Hey, it may sometimes seem messy up in this mo’fo’ but I know specifically where each item is located in said mess. I always kicked a$$ at those item search puzzles in Highlights. But, when someone “cleans” and tries to conceal that fact by putting most items back where they were scattered about in the floor, well, just don’t. I’m b!tching here, aren’t I? Ooops.

Check out the little packrat lady. This must be a girl thing as Gav never carried around bulk items in his wee arms. Gab will load down every digit and bend of the arm to carry as many treasures out to the car with her as possible. Yesterday, it wasn’t sooo bad but she insisted on wearing a safari hat and carrying a plastic pumpkin filled with Star Wars figurines. Upon arriving at the packed parking deck, I talked her out of the safari hat and she settled for stuffing the pumpkin under the stroller. (i have no idea where she gets this hoarding, packrat habit. ahem. ooh, look at that shiny object over there.)

As the parking deck was packed to the max, I didn’t get front door service to say the very least. On my cross-country trek, a clackity-clack-clack woman behind me decided to race to the parking deck elevator. I can hear her heels waaaaay behind me clacking closer and closer until SONIC BOOM she flies past me. Okay, whatever. I am in no condition to race, lady. Take the prize, be it an elevator ride alone. But, aha, I caught up to the elevators just in time to hitch a ride with the clacker. Guys, she actually huffed upon my entering the elevator with her. What? Is my fat a$$ going to slow down the ride? I think not. Chill, beeyotch. (where is Grandy when i need her?)

When we arrived at our destination, she was a peach and let me exit the elevator first only to then stand there and watch me struggle to open a door and maneuver my swiveling wheeled stroller through it. Just stood there. THEN, raced past me again on the crosswalk. Clack, clack, clack.

I knew a secret to which she must not have been privy. The next elevator we were to encounter is operated by elderly trolls who take their sweet time moving it up and down. So, yes, I caught up to clackity beeyotch once again. And, she rolled her eyes at me!! I can still do only what I did then and that’s laugh about it. I literally burst out b/c I just couldn’t believe it. Was Candid Camera tailing us? Had to be.

Soooo, we ride together yet again but with many other women this go’round (who ALL were blonde…I’m brunette and there’s nothing wrong with hair color, but, seriously, I was in an elevator with 5 blondes all in clacky heels and then there was über-pregnant me in my summer sandals with dragon toenails and my lovely brunette child stinking up the elevator with our maternal ways). Eventually, we make landing once again and SONIC BOOM same ole b!tch flew past me. The race was on….again…to another set of elevators (i was actually in the bldg at this point).

I did my best and actually made it to the elevator while the doors were still open, but wouldn’t you know it? That same clacky beeyotch reached over and pressed the CLOSE button just as the tip of my stroller wheels reached the doors. What planet does this type of person come from? Okay, maybe you don’t have children and find those of us that do to be hideous sloths out to slow the elevator rides of the world. But, DAAAAAANG!

Enough of that. (but, come on, can you believe that?) The doctor’s wait was relatively short, Gab was an angel who sat eating apple slices and sunflower seeds like some model of good eating habits (we fooled everyone), and the visit was over in a flash.

The bad news of the visit…I could no longer stand facing the scale. My gut has expanded such that the metal height measuring bar interfered and I had to turn around and step on backwards. Low moment in dee history. Fortunately, the eyes in the back of my head were closed and I did not see the final pounds tally (which the nurse informed me was a good thing, that I didn’t want to know).

Blood pressure…slightly elevated. Another not good thing.

My Mellow Yellow…contained trace amounts of protein. Yet another not good thing.

Heartbeats were nice and strong (although I still feel like she just gets one babe from a slightly different angle…their hearts are much farther than one inch apart at this point I would think).

But, the look on the nurse’s face throughout, definitely not a good thing. And, the comment, “I doubt you’re keeping these babies inside much longer,” ummm not a good thing.

Doc entered and I immediately began self-berating. But, she didn’t seem too alarmed. She reminded me how numbers are always a bit higher for twin pregnancies, asked if I’d been over-exerting myself lately (E has called a ban on doing absolutely anything around the house until I agree to let his 70-year old mother gut the house, so uhhh yeh I’ve been doing more bending and lugging and general exerting than I should, this I know…plus, with the upcoming holidays and Gav’s birthday Dec 22 and Gab’s birthday Jan 28, I’ve tried to get those presents together now…more exerting…I’m a big bad exerter), and told me to “take it easy” over the next week and we’ll check the bp again in a week. Hmmm.

My one afternoon and night of “taking it easy” and it looks like a cyclone has blown through the entire house. (“taking it easy” translates to letting Gab crawl all over me as I rotisserie rotate side to side on the couch until it’s time to hose down the toilet, change her hosed down diaper, fetch her a drink and/or food, and count down the minutes until I can fetch my little man servant, Gav, from school and start shelling out orders to pick this up, pick that up…good times…he did far less complaining yesterday when he learned my blood pressure was up and “ohmygod, Mom, who will take care of Gab and the twins if you die?!?!”…great, now my son thinks I’m going to kick the bucket…poor thing…now pick up all those books before I pass)

So, that’s where life stands at the moment. I’m not complaining about the pregnancy as it appears I have two healthy heffalumps growing away in there. But, it has been such a different ride than with the single pregnancies. I was superwoman (not to stroke my own cape here) with each of those, barely slowing down in the last days (which is a good thing as I don’t pick the most sympathetic men with which to breed). Yet, I will now stand up (slowly and with lots of grunting and groaning) and fully admit, “Hi, my name is dee and this is NOT SO EASY.” Getting the occasional positive thumbs-up from friends helps. (there’s your hint…go, go, say something nice)