I don't know how long this idea was brewing, but on Sunday afternoon Ellen suggested that we build a teepee from some of the willow saplings laying in a pile down the block. Met with enthusiasm (from Monkey Boy and myself) and general restrained encouragement (from Ada) we went for it. Or rather, Ellen, Ada and Monkey Boy moved forward by heading down the street to shlep some saplings back. I took my pregnant lady prerogative to stay on the couch chatting with Jiro.
(or: Who Gets the Shaft?)
I admit to being constitutionally lazy. But I am also a bit compulsive, and I don't like to leave things undone.
Today is a state and national holiday, but as a part-time state employee I only get 4.8 hours of holiday pay. To make up the rest of the day, I am working for several hours this morning. While working, I sent an email about an ongoing project to one of my bosses. I knew she was working today too. (The legislature is in session, so she is on the hook in case they want anything from our office. Nice boss that she is, she is taking this on personally rather than delegating to one of the staff so she could sleep in.) The boss, seeing I am working, emails to ask if I can attend a meeting tomorrow to talk to a key legislative staffer about some work I did.
So can I? I don't usually work on Tuesdays, which means I do not have established child care. But. I hate to let this woman down, and I hate not to be there to talk about my work. On the other hand, the legislative staffer already found one flaw in my analysis - I overlooked a section of bill that established a fund I suggested the bill be amended to establish. Easy to fix (and frankly, easy to overlook in a bill that stretches over 200 pages) but now I am nervous about what else I have missed. So now I am going back through the work to make sure it is not deeply flawed in other ways.
So do I ask my regular babysitter to be with Ada for half a day so that I can drive down to the capitol for a one hour meeting? Or do I tell my boss I can't come and just have her debrief with me on Wednesday? My guilt is compounded by the fact that I can't be in the office at all this week, in part because Chris has jury duty and can not take Ada to nursery school as he normally would.
Do I shaft my work with a lame "I don't work on Tuesdays" or do I shaft my child, knowing that she is deep into a "I need mama" period that will be abruptly interrupted when the twins arrive? The latter option also shafts me to some extent, stretching my workweek and eliminating the daily nap I am realizing is increasingly necessarily to my mood and ability to function. But I am proud of my status as a professional woman, and in a deep and irrational way want everyone I interact with at work to see me as a talented, can-do person.
Oy. What would you do?
Jiro made the mistake of telling Ellen that he'd like cheerleaders for his 40th birthday.
At our vegetable pick-up last week, Ada was thrilled by a special parsnip standing out from the box of regular roots. This large parsnip was dressed up, with a bit of root stuck through its "head" to make a jaunty mustache, and a friendly drawn-on face. (Sadly, I'd left my camera at home, so we just had to enjoy the parsnip in person.)
When it was time to go, Ada was disappointed that we could not take the parsnip with us. I explained that others would want to see this funny vegetable, and suggested we could make one of our own at home. Once home, Ada asked me to fulfill my promise, which I did. I will admit that I am a huge fan of parsnips and was loathe to sacrifice an entire one to this project. Instead, I took a parsnip with two root bases and snapped off one to make our own parsnip man. I gave this little guy root arms, and then followed Ada's instructions for his other decorations.
After reading a few books with me this afternoon, Ada decided she wanted to "read" some on her own. She plowed through three or four before asking me to find her another one.
"How about this one?" I asked, holding up a book.
"It's kind of dark."
"Dark? What do you mean?"
"It is dark. I want something lighter."
"Ok, how about Cars and Trucks and Things that Go?"
"Yes."
First, who knew that Ada classified books as light and dark?
I am totally becoming that woman - the one who walks in the door and immediately unloads her complaints. I hate being her, but in the moment it just feels so good to unload.
Between my growing stomach, my whiny, needy toddler, and pregnancy related annoyances and ills, I am a real barrel of laughs to be around. My big hope is that I can now really learn the lesson I only sort of understood from my first attempt at parenting an infant: ASK FOR HELP.
I suck at asking for help. I don't like to do it, and I am not very good at judging when I need it. Case in point - Friday morning I was feeling out of breath and out of sorts while dealing with run-of-the-mill morning stuff. Ellen called and offered to take Ada for a while so that I could get some rest. I hesitated, thinking to myself: really I am fine, and since it is only going to get worse, why ask for (or even accept) help now?
Can I just say: rejecting help is STUPID. Before I got off the phone, I told Ellen that I felt I should say no, but in the end I accepted her kind offer. After Ada ran off with Ellen and Monkey Boy, I ran an errand that would have taken twice as much energy with Ada tagging along. When I checked in with Ellen she said Ada was happy to have nap at her house. So I took a nap too. A long, lovely, middle-of-the-day, alarm-free, get-up-when-you're done nap. Which helped me realize how tired I have been feeling. (Well, that and a co-worker's comment earlier in the week about how tired I look.) So right, a little reminder that (a) I should think about when I need help, (b) I should ask for that help, and (c) I need more naps.
When Ada was an infant I was terrible about asking for help. My natural instinct is to refuse help, or to turn it into something that is not actually that helpful. People would offer to come over and take Ada for a walk, but I would suggest they just come and hang out. Then I would be responsible for entertaining and maybe feeding them, plus I didn't really hand Ada over to the visitor for long enough to make it useful.
Why I cling to this counter-productive trait is beyond me. I love to give help, so what is the problem with accepting it? Even though I know that people know I am not invincible, part of me wants to uphold the fantasy that I am so together that I don't need assistance, even in demonstrably difficult circumstances.
Maybe being socked by the reality of twins will force the issue a bit, but I know that I will need (ha!) help asking for help. My plan is to ask friends ahead of time to promise to come over to take Ada or the babies away for a bit, or to do other things for our family. I don't need matching infant sleepers or new stuffed animals, but knowing that I am not always so great at reaching out when I need the help, I am hoping that by pre-planning I can get people to ask me if they can help once I am in over my head.
(So yes, if you are my real-life friend and live in town, I am now officially asking for help once the babies are born. Thank you in advance.)
For some reason, bloggers feel compelled to mention their anniversaries. I am no different. Nonlinear Girl is 3 years old today.
This blog has mostly been a fun way to navel gaze and show off pictures of my beautiful family. It has also connected me with a lot of fascinating people, some of whom have become my real life friends. Plus, some of the people I have not met in person I still care about in a very real way. Reading their updates and stories is an important part of my day. For the human connections alone, the blog has been worthwhile.
I am a little disgruntled about this whole twin pregnancy thing. It isn't so much my actual twin pregnancy, which is (knock on wood) going well. My frustration is with the rules and customs of twin pregnancy and birth. I can't imagine I am the first to complain about this, but I am still feeling a little shocked about some of what is considered "normal" for twin pregnancies. I feel like I am being constantly presented with bad news that only I see as bad.
Bad news: Twin pregnancies usually go through a doctor, so no midwife for me.
Good news: I asked a lot of people for recommendations and this one doctor's name came up a bunch. Plus, she's the mother of twins.
Bad news: The scheduler who makes my 13 week ultrasound appointment at the perinatology office across town says, "Oh, twins. We'll be seeing you a lot!"
Good news: The scheduler was wrong. I have scheduled my other ultrasounds elsewhere.
Bad news: Scheduling double ultrasound appointments is a pain in the ass. You'd think the schedulers had never dealt with twin pregnancies before.
Bad news: Many doctors are not trained to (or comfortable with) breech delivery or performing a version.
Good news: My doctor is comfortable with this and willing to do it if needed.
Bad news: I have no guarantee that she'll be at the hospital when I go into labor.
Good news: She offered to be back up to the doc in the hospital, in case that person is not comfortable with breech presentation.
Bad news: If I have another fast labor, she might not be able to get to the hospital in time.
Bad news: It is accepted procedure for women delivering twins to labor in an operating room.
Good news (sort of): My doctor says that it will be "normal" with people able to talk, move around, etc.
Bad news: Generally the laboring woman is only permitted to bring in one person with her into the operating room, even if she is just laboring normally.
Good news: My doctor was very open to my doula (my pal Ellen, who, when not helping me labor, is a hospital-based midwife) and says she'll see if she can get some kind of special dispensation/special agreement deal. Ellen is also working on this through her contacts at our preferred hospital.
Bad news: Did I mention that I will be laboring in an operating room? Doesn't exactly scream warm and comfortable.
Bad news: Going back to that whole "some docs are not comfortable with breech deliveries" thing, looking for information on twin c-section rates I find less-than comforting comments like this:
The chance of a c-section increases with the number of babies . . . But many doctors are at least willing to attempt a vaginal delivery if conditions are favorable for both babies in a twin birth.At least willing to attempt? If conditions are favorable? Strong words there, very comforting.
(or, further signs of the apocalypse)
My mother just sent me an email saying she'd signed up for facebook.
She has not yet requested to be my friend. I imagine eventually she will figure out how to do that.
In her soothing accent, my childhood doctor used to proclaim "everything is puhfectly nahmal" at the end of each visit. Lungs, check. Reflexes, check. Blood pressure, check. Whenever I have a doctor appointment that goes as expected, my pediatrician's voice rings in my head, a calming mantra confirming the news.
Monday morning at way-too-early o'clock I had an ultrasound. Not that I had specific reason to worry, but nonetheless I spent the last week or so before a little keyed up about what the ultrasound might show. I am not even sure what I thought the results would be, what bad news I'd learn. I guess it doesn't matter, since all went well today. (Everything except my arrival at the wrong location, annoyance that no one was around, and eventual realization that I needed to be 5 minutes down the road instead. Luckily I got the "fast" ultrasound tech, who turned my 2 hour appointment into an hour. I even walked out "early.")
So everything continues to be normal - twin A (the girl) is the one who seems to have been standing on my bladder on a routine basis. Her brother twin B was a little less wiggly during the scan, consistent with the movements I have been feeling from their respective areas of my uterus.
Now I do have something to worry about. That whole naming thing that Chris and I put off until after this scan can now start in earnest. We've gotten a few suggestions, even some non-sarcastic. We are going to have to get moving on this. If it is true that 97% of twins are born by 37 weeks (something I read recently) we have no more than 18 weeks to find some names for these future bundles of joy. Break out the lists!
For months I have been sitting on my hands so that I did not blab about my sister and her husband's project until allowed to do so. But given the okay to talk about it in real life, along with the fact that a ton of other (mostly SF foodie) bloggers* and others are spreading the word, I wanted to tell you how proud I am of Karen and Anthony's Mission Street Food. I am just sad that I do not live in San Fransisco. Otherwise I'd be there every week. Yum.
If you live in the bay area, Mission Street Food is on tonight. You should go. Just don't send me an email telling me what I missed, or I might cry.
*This is not a comprehensive list of the foodie bloggers who are in love with MSF. I just got tired of linking.
**Also, a few months back I tweeted about MSF to a bay area friend. My pal Maggie saw the tweet, and despite living in NY, sent the link to her Mission-dwelling friend, who went there with a date. I am not sure how the woman's date turned out, but at least I know the food was good.
Ada: Manu!
Chris: Manu?
Ada: He's someone at school. He's the new guy.
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