We Named Them...

Okay, you've had enough pictures for a little while. This one is just boring old text. Maybe some pics, we'll see.

I went to the doc - I should say WE... WE went to the doc, although the doc was late, so WE got the ultrasound and saw the nurse and then I waited and waited and waited and finally sent C off to work. Alas, the doc arrived (a loaner doc, since mine just had a baby) and told me that my babies were the absolute perfect weight. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it! It's hard to keep twins at the right weight!"

They are one ounce apart in size, which is rare, and not too big, not too small, just perfect! "Well, I do eat Ben and Jerry's sometimes..." That didn't go over quite so well. For some reason, doctors feel it is morally wrong to endorse Ben and Jerry's, but I am sure they are thinking about someone other than me when images of icecream indulging pregnant women flash through their mind. That isn't, nor ever has been THIS woman. We are talking, 1/2 cup maybe twice a week. Reasonable fatty caloric intake to make up for the spinach salad, lean meat, whole grains, and fruit I ate for dinner. So C tells me that what I didn't tell the doc was all of the healthy food I am eating, and that's what really is getting these girls to where they need to be, but that's no fun.

We have had some fun with the twins lately. I read in a baby book that we should name them to help them seem more real. They are, after all, real. We aren't ready for real names, however, but Baby A and Baby B are a little too generic. Introducing our affectionately nicknamed baby girls, Cricket:



and Peanut:


Aren't those little lips so precious, and their little squishy noses with no cartilage in them yet? Chalk it up to 3-D imaging to make those hands look all funky, though. We are pretty excited. This morning, after a real live night of sleep (something I haven't experienced for weeks), C came over to me and started talking. As soon as she heard his voice, little Cricket started kicking. She is going to be very active for sure, and probably a Daddy's girl.

I had a dream last night that I gave birth. We have been attending child birth classes and much to the dismay of my better half, we have also had the pleasure of viewing birthing videos, including a rather detailed C-section. It is my deepest desire to have these babies without having major abdominal surgery, and in my dream last night I was able to give birth without complications. May it be so, oh, may it be so!

If you have ever met one of those Apocalypse fanatics that have a bomb shelter in their backyard and stockpile supplies like mad, that is now me. I don't just cook one pot roast, I cook 2, and then I stick one in the freezer. I make a pot of scratch chicken noodle soup, and stick half in the freezer. See, once upon a time someone promised to bring me a meal. I was tempted to make my own, but resisted. They never showed up. How silly to get upset about something like that, so I have a back-up plan. I am cooking for myself for later, when I am a total wreck and wish I had me to cook for me.

Well, Sleep is calling, that elusive pimpernel. I better push publish or yet another post will fail to see the light of day (I have a graveyard of unpublished posts). Adieu!