Thursday, June 28, 2007

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

swollen & self-loathing

sorry for the long absence. What can I say? I am a crappy blogger. And also, my internet connection was a little spotty. And I'm feeling sorry for myself. So it's a trifecta of discontent here at Chez Platypus.

Where should I start...I had my u/s last monday and the babies are pretty freakin' big. Baby B (on the right who likes to kick me in the liver) was a little over 4lb . Baby A (on the left who head butts me in the bladder) was harder to get a read on. She was coming up 3lb 9oz. Now, that's not such an accurate measurement as it was almost impossible to get a head circumference. Why is that? Well, perhaps it is because her head is jammed as close to my cervix as is possible. With baby B trying to head butt her out of the way. So if I had to make a guess, I'd say they are both around the 4lb mark.

That gives me 8lbs of baby ramming their little baby skulls into me in some weird race to be first. this does not bode well for my future...

It also doesn't bode well for me feet. sadly my feet are worse. "no", you say, "it cannot be?! They have already defied the logical limits of foot swelling". Well, they hadn't and now they are worse. If I didn't tell you they were feet and they weren't positioned at the ends of my tree stump like legs, you would be hard pressed to identify that anatomical part.

So U/S Monday night and by Tuesday morning I was begging to be seen in the office again to show my feet and plead my case for foot amputation. I had gained 14 lbs since my visit the week before. Let's see that figure again. 14lbs. That's a lot of water folks. But fear not, my OB had some wonderful advice:

Stay off them.

Like I'm here running on the treadmill and doing jumping jacks.

So now I have been confined mostly to bed. Which gets me to the self-loathing portion of today's post. WHY ME??? I'm not good at laying around doing nothing. And my bedroom is small and boring. I have a TV, but TV is boring I can't really watch more than an hour at a time when I'm not all cranky and swollen and being licked by the cat because he knows I don't feel well, but doesn't understand that licking my feet does not make them feel better. Even the internet is boring. I've read every magazine, took parenting and breast-feeding books out of the library and watched almost every movie I can stand.

I guess the good news is that my blood pressure and everything else is normal. I had an NST yesterday. That's a fun little test. I lay down in a recliner and they strap two heart rate monitors for the babies and a third to measure contractions. I am old hat at this. This is what we do on our trial runs to the hospital. But now there's an extra component. I have to push a button every time someone moves. Do you have any idea how many times I pushed the damn button in 45 minutes? I asked the nurse if I could perhaps push the button when I DON'T feel movement. She thinks I'm a loon. They will definitely never hire me to do their genetic counseling.

In an effort to gear up in case the little doll-babies decide to show up early, H spent the whole weekend working like a maniac to set stuff up. He is a saint, seriously. Here's what he accomplised in two days:
  • went to babies r us WITH MY MOM and finished off the necessities from the registry
  • went car shopping WITH MY MOM
  • mowed the lawn and weed whacked the forest growing along the fence in the driveway
  • did two loads of baby clothes and two loads of our laundry
  • put all of these clothes away
  • washed and hung two more loads of baby blankets and our quilt on the line because I didn't want them to go through the drier
  • organized baby gear and put it away in either our bedroom, the nursery or the basement, frequently involving 2 flights of stairs with large plastic toys, mattresses etc.
  • cooked all of our meals
  • ate them in bed with me so I wouldn't be lonely
  • did one million loads of dishes
  • went to the grocery store and ran other errands including renting me extra movies to supplement my netflix
  • and woke up with me every time I started crying that my feet hurt. he would get up, get me cold washcloths to put on them and then put lotion on my poor stretched skin to keep it from stinging and burning. seriously any man who would touch those feet is a prince. or mentally insane. jury's out on that one.

I think that by yesterday he was so happy it was Monday just to get away from me and my whining and list making. Last night he cajoled the financial planner in his office into coming up to the house (from manhattan where this guy lives and works) so that we could talk about life insurance for the two of us and get started on making up wills to have in place before the babies come.

H is awesome.

That's pretty much the news that's fit to print. If anyone wants to see me, they can pull a chair up in the bedroom and marvel at my girth. Otherwise, I'll be here. Gestating. and swelling. At least I have a/c. and my very own H.

Because, H is awesome.

oh, and today he's designing the thank you cards for the shower. so I can write them tomorrow and people will stop complaining about what an ungrateful wretch I am.

Yes, H is totally awesome

Sunday, June 10, 2007

A Meme for Monday

Here's a meme i stole from stacie at the twinkies... I am low on creativity, but high on fluid, so enjoy...

What were you doing 10 years ago?
Probably coming home from crazy chorus tour to taiwan and getting ready for reunion. Which means I was drunk. or hungover. or both...

Five Snacks You Love:
cookies, banana with peanut butter and raisins, hummus and pita, chips and salsa, chocolate in all forms.

Five Songs That You Know All The Lyrics
well, that would be great if I knew the names to any of the songs I know the lyrics to. But I probably know at least some lyrics to every song. how's that? even some in weird languages you've never heard of about fat boys munching cheese...

Five Things You Would Do If You Were a Millionaire
Nothing. I would do nothing. I would pay people to do it for me. I wouldn't even wipe my own ass. (although these days, hiring someone for that may be worth the dough...)

Five Things You Like To Do
read, swim, knit, scrapbook and um, sit still.

Five Things You Would Never Wear Again
At the present moment I'm afraid that'll be most of my wardrobe.

Five Favorite Toys
mostly my palm tungsten fancy shmancy color screen fabulocity. I can't go anywhere without the palm. If your info/event is not in the palm, it doesn't exist. Plus I can make lists. we all know I love lists.

Yeah, so I can't even follow the directions and fill out five things for each one. oy. the fluid must be going to my brain. But feel free to tag yourself if you so desire. I can't possible play tag. I can barely wipe my own ass people.

I have a sono tonight. any guesses on how fat the duo is now?

Foot Update 2007

Thanks for the foot pics ladies :) I am pretty sure I've got you both beat though. I am planning on begging the OB for an intervention this week as I'm only 33 weeks and I don't think I'll make it another month or so if I can't get some of the swelling down. I'll keep you posted.

Today I am at my mom's and headed over to a friend's baby shower. I just spent the last half hour or so sitting in her recliner with icepacks on my ankles and now I am slugging back a quart or so of water. It's not pretty.

On an unrelated and somewhat normal note, I went to the movies at the actual movie theater last night. I had to sit in the handicap aisle so I could stretch my feet out, but I made it through the end of the movie and even through most of dinner afterwards. We went to see Knocked Up. Now, I'm sure it was funnier given my current status, but I highly recommend it for a good laugh.

Although, I'm pretty sure all that sitting in the theater and restaurant are directly related to the 3am crying that my feet induced. Poor H. He may never sleep again.

Thursday, June 07, 2007

Yes, boys and girls, those are my actual feet. I know you are jealous and wish that you too could have Miss Piggy feet. Actually, even my toes are swollen. They look a lot like vienna sausages.

The funny thing about it is that they don't hurt until I try to stand on them. Today I can't do much. I managed to watch two movies and balance my checkbook. Oh and eat. I can't stop eating... I can only hope it's going all to the babies.

I'm feeling kind of guilty about all my complaining. I sort of wish I was enjoying this more. I mean, I'm actually really excited about having the twins and meeting them and seeing if their personalities match up with how they are now. I can tell that one is way more active than the other and they like different books and songs. I really wish I could get a decent video of my belly jumping around, but it seems like whenever I call someone's attention to it, they stop. That also figures.

Thanks to everyone for the fear inducing comments that my feet will get larger and the itching isn't going away. Yeah, thanks a lot... I guess I'm just starting to get nervous about feeding and changing and cleaning up after two babies at once. Especially if my feet are enormous and if I have to have a c-section. And we all know how I deal with lack of sleep. It's not going to be pretty.

But how bad could it be? I mean, I took orgo, biochem and genetics with hideous fly-lab in the same semester. That was truly horrific. Yes, I know I had a nervous breakdown, but I'm not entirely sure that was from the workload. It may have been from the drinking. Which may have been caused by the workload. Or it may have been caused by my tragic love life... I'm going to go with blaming it on a certain boy and the cheapness of beer in Ithaca. right? that sounds right to me...

Now I am off to request some books from the library. I've gotten some suggestions about books for breastfeeding and just generally dealing with two babies at once. Hopefully I can check them out for free first, plus the library is only around the corner so I can walk there.

that is if I can find shoes to fit on my feet. I have retired my flip flops to petey. Why fight the inevitable?

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Dromedary V. Pachyderm

Apparently, Petey wears flip flops. this is the only explanation I can come up with for the mysterious disappearance of one of my flip flops. the other he has dragged under the crib where I cannot possibly reach it. He truly enjoys sharpening his little claws on the soft, oh so comfy, and totally non-enviro-friendly, foam rubber that constitutes my most favorite and coveted reef flippys that jen the riddler and I bought in our carefree days when we could just up and fly to Miami for a long weekend, because, what the hell, we had extra vacation time... Aaaah the good ol' days...

Sunday we had a lovely baby shower. here's a shot of me (and twins) with their gifts. They had a rockin' good time and ate three pieces of icecream cake.

Photo of icecream cake not included as I ate it all

we had a doctor's appt yesterday where I pleaded again for mercy for my poor swollen self. Apparently the swelling is now made it's way from my piggy toes to my hands. I wake up in the morning and cannot even make a fist with which to punch H for doing this to me in the first place. So unfair!

The doc told me to suck it up. well, she was kinder than that, but it was the gist. I also asked her (Ed. note: Reader discretion advised. you are about to find out way more than you ever wanted to know about my nether parts. Or maybe you did want to know. According to tuckiliscious there's an internet market for everything) what's the deal with the itching. I am itching. all night long. and we aren't talking belly scratching here people (although that itches too). Apparently I'm retaining water there too which is causing some very delicate skin to stretch. Great. Any day now my transformation to the elephant woman will be complete.

Now, I did not just post that to gross you out. (That was the purpose of the butt cyst post... i'm working on pics for you kathryn, but do you have any idea how hard it is to photograph your own ass?) I'm actually curious to see if anyone has either had this problem or heard an urban legend about the woman who had to move to the sewers for the remainder of her pregnancy, lest her husband kill her for keeping him up all night with the scratching and swearing.

anyone? anyone? bueller?

right, so I'm also taking commentary on cloth diapers. I got my order from the diaper service and now I am just waiting for the twinlets to arrive and start pooping in them. I ordered premie sized from the service, but they said I can call and switch them out for newborn size should the little monsters decide to hang out until they weigh more than 6lbs a piece. Any advice on cloth diapering twinfants?

oh, and if anyone feels the need to comment on my long run on sentences, I say, Fie! to you. You try lugging around two bowling ball sized babies and not sleeping while a cat plays hide the twistie tie in the blankets and see how fan-fucking-tastic your grammar is.

Friday, June 01, 2007

Fear not my faithful readers, we did not actually have to go to the hospital yesterday. I toughed it out with about 12 hours of irregular (and annoying) braxton-hicks type fun. The contractions abated, for the most part, around 6pm last night and today I feel a lot better.

Not that I've done anything. I was planning on sleeping in this morning, but Petey had his own daily to-do list that involved playing with an errant twistie tie on the bed using my legs as hidey spots to pounce on said twistie. While H was in the shower. Then he decided he must must must jump repeatedly into the crib which he have put together next to the bed. This could have partially been my fault as the third time I tossed his twistie tie off the bed, I may or may not have thrown it in the crib. my eyes were closed. I cannot be responsible.

But now that he knows he can get in the crib this is a thing of joy and much planning. currently he is not speaking to me in retaliation for the yelling and kitten-tossing that crib jumping incurs.

Right, so back to what I have accomplished. Well, I've managed to not get dressed for the past two days. Yup, it's 2:30pm and I am in my nightgown typing this bad boy from bed. I read the paper and 2 million blogs. and took a nap.

what's left on my to-do list? make a grocery list and sort through coupons. take a shower. get my nails done.

what a life of leisure I lead, I'm sure you're thinking. I also find it funny that I'm clipping coupons and paying someone to paint my nails. the sad truth is that I haven't had a pedicure since my wedding and I can no longer reach my feet to even take off the hideous polish that's there, let alone clip my talon-like toenails. It's becoming absurd.

So that's about it for Friday. I did however, read a hilarious post on Crazy Aunt Purl's about her enormous purse woes. For kicks I got off the bed and got my ginormous bag (courtesy of f.fanny) and will now list it's contents. Feel free to comment back with your own wacky purse (or in Brother Fi's case, man-purse) antics.

In my bag:
  • big red wallet
  • palm pilot
  • cell phone
  • wireless earbud
  • 3 napkins from different fast food establishments
  • reciept for panera lunch
  • driver's license (floating freely. don't ask, I don't know why)
  • reciept from AC Moore
  • Burt's Bees lipstick
  • prescription sunglasses in large orange case
  • 7 Splenda packets
  • blue pen
  • packet of facial blotting tissue
  • black makeup bag (contents of which strangely do not include makeup. But does have:
  • protein bar
  • blister bandaid
  • inhaler
  • 2 different lip glosses
  • 2 chapsticks
  • 2 lollipops
  • 4 crayons from TGI Fridays
  • pill case of assorted drugs (tylenol, allergy pills, aciphex, zantac, and what i think are 2 xanax)
  • 3 sugar packets
  • 3 more splenda packets
  • 4 bandaids
  • purple pen
  • mechanica pencil
  • roll of tums
  • mini tape measure
  • swiss army knife
  • hair band
  • trial size hand lotion

Well, I gotta tell ya, I'm a little embarrassed and no, I will not tell you what's in my wallet. that's a whole other list of insanity. Please let someone be as crazy as me... I know for a fact that f.fanny carries her dog in a purse. that's got to be worse. right?