The collection of crap begins!

I am shopper. Pure and simple. I simply adore the acquisition of stuff. This was immediately evidenced by my maternity clothes buying frenzy the second my jeans felt tight. I bought every cute, flowy, empire waisted top or dress in existence. I scoured the racks of Mimi Maternity, Gap Maternity and Target. I spent long hours logging time on peainthepod.com, Ann Taylor Loft Maternity and Belly Dance websites. I even dragged my ass around Anthropologie and Saks looking for extra large roomy clothes on sale. I was always in search of the perfect outfit to make me look a) pregnant, but cute, like Jessica Alba b) like I have thin arms or c) that I wasn't as lumpy as I looked in the mirror. Regardless of how many black tops, pairs of leggings, or tenty dresses that find their way into my closet, I have failed at those objectives. Simply put, I am not a cute pregnant girl, I have always hated my arms and the need to remain covered at all times, and I am indeed, lumpy.

So I decided to stop spending a fortune on clothes that have a (hopefully!) limited shelf life and start buying stuff for the babies. (Although I think I am in love with maternity "Secret Fit Belly" jeans. These are just divine because they have no waist band, and hence no muffin top! Instead they are fitted with a stretchy, skin colored panel of fabric that goes all the way up to your boobs. They look like jeans but feel like a comfy pair of spanx. HEAVEN. I might never go back.)

To be perfectly honest, I haven't bought a single thing for the boys. At first it was because I was a little superstitious - there is an old Jewish belief that nothing should be purchased for the babies before they are born. And frankly, there is some practical import to this belief: I suck at returning stuff anyway, can you imagine how hard it would be after a miscarriage? But now the danger has mostly passed and I am not really very superstitious anyway, so the stuff should start rolling in, right? Then, I was hesitant to buy stuff until I found out the sexes. Well, check, blue stuff is in order, in abundance. But still, I hesitated. I just haven't been compelled to start buying anything. I have a few theories why:

1. I don't know where to start - quick as you can say Prada, I could tell where the best maxi dresses are this season. But I have no clue where to buy baby crap, what the best stroller is, how much one should spend on baby bedding etc. I am freaked out by the sheer volume of stuff I need to get and where I should get it from. Someone with kids, please HELP!

2. I suck at decorating. Let me tell you a little story. One day, shortly after Brent and I moved into our new house, I started panicking because we were having dinner guests in a couple of days and my house was completely unadorned. No knickknacks, artful arrangements of glass, pictures on the wall, nothing. I hate doing it. So to alleviate my panic, my dear sister Emily spent the day at HomeGoods, Tuesday Morning and Target and then zsa zsa'd up my crib. I am having the same problem with the nursery. I don't know what to do, how to do it, and I am at a complete loss. Someone with style, please HELP!

3. I have to buy two of everything! Two car seats, two highchairs, two bassinets, double sets of diapers, bottles, bibs, onesies, pacifiers. My heading is spinning. Where the hell is all that crap going to go? And how will I afford my addiction to designer purses anymore?? Does having twins mean you get a double prescription for Xanex? Someone with drugs, please HELP!

Notwithstanding the foregoing, I think I am going to brave Pottery Barn Kids and Babies R Us this weekend. I don't have high hopes for a good outcome, especially considering I can't walk for more than five minutes without my leg going numb, but I'll let you know how it turns out.

Ode to a Mr. Misty Float

Dear Dairy Queen,

This week I discovered one of the greatest concoctions of all time - the Mr. Misty Float. Let's get semantics out of the way first, I just refuse to use your new fangled marketing name for this delightful treat, the so-called "Arctic Freeze" which I consider to pedestrian, common, reminiscent of a Quik Stop beverage, and well, just plain lame. From hence forth, I will call this slushy cup of goodness by its nostalgic moniker: The Mr. Misty.

I happened upon this confection by sheer luck. You see, my assistant at work, Sara, is pregnant too, and now I have a partner in crime when it comes to gestational indulgences. We were both hot and grumpy and didn't really want to work so we got to chatting about what snack we could find to cure what ailed us. She suggested that she make a run to your fine establishment. I was at once filled with both excitement and confusion. I always end up with the worst food envy at DQ. If I order chocolate soft serve, I covet someone else's vanilla. If I get Reese's cups in my blizzard, I lament that I wasn't creative or adventurous enough to try Oreo's and mint syrup. In the past, my visits have been less than satisfying. My bewilderment deepened when I peaked at the DQ menu online and accidentally stumbled upon the page with nutritional information listed. Oh the horror!!! A small chocolate shake has over 500 calories. Ignorance was far more blissful.

Well, Sara suggested a Mr. Misty Float. What is that I asked. I had never heard of such a thing. She explained that it DQ's version of a Slush Puppy with a dollop of soft serve floating on top. I was intrigued. I was excited. Visions of cheery goodness starting floating before my eyes. My heart started to beat a skip faster. This was outside my normal wheelhouse of chocolate and peanut butter. Maybe this mysterious Mr. Misty Float was the answer to my endless DQ food resentment. On a wing and a prayer, I went for it.

Not 20 minutes later a paper cup full of icy, sugary, red glory appeared before me with a blob of vanilla soft serve floating enticingly on top. I had a conference call that was scheduled to begin at that precise moment, but I threw caution to the wind and dug in. I figured I could hide my enjoyment of my extravagance and fully participate on the call. I was wrong. Little moans of joy escaped my lips and finally I had to fess up to the other callers what I was doing. And you know what? They shared my affinity! They knew all about this delicacy and wholeheartedly understood my swoon.

So thank you DQ for serving me such a outstanding dessert. I will be back. Soon. Maybe I will try the orange one next.

Love,

Hannah and Babies A and B

Ach. My aching back...

Well friends, I think the period of an easy-peasy pregnancy is over. In a word or two, this sucks. I hope you won't mind indulging me in a little bitch session about the aches and pains I have been feeling...I sort of feel like a long-suffering bubbe (for you gentiles out there who don't watch Weeds, that is Yiddish for grandmother).

In the last few weeks, my body has started to completely fall apart. It all begin with a weird episode where I got dizzy and lightheaded and all freaked out. Of course I called the doctor, who patiently (and patronizingly) explained to me that I am pregnant with twins in the middle of the summer and I should lower my expectations about feeling well. I should drink lots of fluids and take it easy. Umm, ok.

Next up was a day of heart palpitations. I thought I was having a heart attack all day and when I went up the 17 steps to my office I almost fainted. That was fun.

Then, my tailbone started hurting when I sat down for extended periods of time. I know what you are thinking, and yes, I have accumulated a bit of padding on my tush that would theoretically protect me from such discomfort. Not so. So add that to the list of super fun special pregnancy symptoms that are magically delicious.

Then as I was packing for Karen's wedding, I started trying on all the new cute(ish) dresses I had bought. I slipped on some low gold heels only to realize I had developed the dreaded CANKLES. Yep, my ankles have completely disappeared and now I am left with legs that resemble tree trunks. I was mildly alarmed that I was already swelling up in my feet, especially considering how kind I have been to them recently. Usually I am a complete masochist when it comes to shoes, but lately I have been strictly attired in flats. I look short. And even with all this vertical sacrifice, I am still all swelled up.

We went to Karen's wedding over the weekend (elephant feet and all). It was an absolutely spectacular time and I have never been happier for someone that wasn't, well, me. It was a traditional, loving, and warm affair and I really enjoyed the whole shebang. Except for when my left leg started falling asleep. Apparently when I stand up for extended periods of time, one of the babies seems to push on a nerve that makes my thigh fall asleep. It was amusing when I tried to dance the Hora. I am not a strong dancer in the first place. Pregnant, bloated, tired, dizzy, with a numb left thigh does not improve things. If any of you have photographic evidence of me attempting to dance, please do not make it available for public consumption. Thanks.

Then to make matters actually scary, I took my blood pressure when I got home from Chicago on Monday and it was super high. I, being my melodramatic self, completely freaked out and started envisioning what my life would look like if I had to go on bed rest right now. I was picturing lots of Law and Order and ice cream sandwiches. I know that doesn't sound that terrible, but imagine not leaving your house, in the middle of the prettiest time of year, for TWENTY WEEKS. YEP, THAT MEANS FIVE MONTHS. I would truly go insane. I called the doctor the moment her office opened, and she explained to me (with a bit less patience and even more patronization) that I am pregnant with twins in the middle of summer, and that as long as my blood pressure comes back down (it did) I should drink lots of fluids and take it easy. Um, thanks.

The only great news I have to report is that I felt one of the boys give me a good hard kick during the wedding reception on Sunday night. I think I can safely infer from the kick that the babies enjoyed me whispering scandalous news during the birkat (the after dinner prayer). Good to know. I am glad to hear that my gossipy tendencies now have a legit justification: the babies like it!

Daydream Believer

Brent and I have had the weekend to adjust to our big news from last week, and it has definitely begun to sink in. As I expected, finding out the babies' sexes has helped a lot with the reality of being a parent. Finally I can begin to picture what my family is going to be like.

However, I have a terrible tendancy to oversimplify things until I experience them. Case in point: pre-pregnancy I never understood what the big deal was. I figured your belly got big and that was the whole story. I was completely unprepared for how humongous the changes would be to my body. No one told me that I would feel like a completely different person once I was pregnant. I figured I would buy a couple of empire waisted dresses and be good to go. Um, no. My body is a complete mystery to me, complete with long fingernails, hair that is falling out, giant boobs, and a range of emotions that could fairly be described as schizophrenic. And that is putting it mildly.

So, in keeping with my usual oversimplifications, I am picturing two robust, athletic, sports minded boys, who love manly man things like their dad, but have a sensitive (ok emotional) side like their mom. I am already dreading their destructive little hands leaving fingerprints all over my new house. I am dreaming of bowl haircuts and bike rides. I am wondering how I will teach two little boys to pee standing up when I have never really even seen a man do it (I ask to Brent to close the door. He sometimes complies.) I am dreaming of picking out two Brooks Brothers suits for their bar mitzvahs. And I am fantasizing about them coming home from school and telling me about a crush they have, and asking for advice about the mysteries of girls.

But of course, I really have no clue what to expect. I am sure most of these images are born and bred from TV shows, movies, books, and other people's experiences. The truth is, the reality will probably be far more complicated, interesting, exhausting and exhilarating that the sound bites and fleeting images that are swimming around in my brain. These boys are going to be individuals who I am sure will surprise me at every turn. But for now, I will keep on daydreaming about who I think they will be, because otherwise there is nothing else to do but wait.

We Found Out!!

So, to end the suspense...we are having TWO BOYS!!! We had our 16 week ultrasound this morning and everything looks fantastic! They are healthy and happy wriggling around in there. Baby A continues to be very calm and serene, and Baby B is well, not.

We are beyond thrilled to be having two sons. Brent is already dreaming of taking them to Colts games, KU basketball games and Nascar Races. I am dreaming little boys hugging their mama, playing with puppies, and watching them play sports. I am fulfilling my destiny of becoming the ultimate soccer mom. I might as well get one of those soccer ball decals now to put on the back of my SUV with the names Baby A and Baby B on them!

More to come later! TWO FREAKING BOYS. I can't wait to meet them!

Weebles Wobble But They Don't Fall Down.

Yep, that is me. A Weeble. It is official. I am really pregnant and I really look like it. It is also confirmed by the fact that I got completely winded when I walked up the stairs today. I was huffing and puffing and I got really dizzy. That was fun.

So yesterday I realized that I have been spending a lot of time thinking about what it is like being pregnant and not a lot of time thinking about what it is like being a parent. This phenomenon is sort of analogous to when brides are fixated on their weddings but not actually on being married. It happens a lot and I think it is ridiculous. The wedding and the pregnancy are temporary, the marriage and the kids are permanent (hopefully!).

But honestly, it is really hard to think about what being a parent means. I can sort of envision having one baby, mostly because I have watched friends and family bring a child into this world. But even daydreaming about one child is a stretch because I really don't have any clue what we are in for. There is certainly a lot of anxiety and stress thinking about the enormous responsibility that is barreling down the pike at us, and that is what is blocking me from actually visualizing being a parent. Adding to that panic is that I cannot even fathom what having twins is like. And for the first time in my life I genuinely don't have a clue what I am in for. In the past I had a general idea of what college, law school, or even working would be like. But there is simply nothing that can prepare me for what is coming. I am already feeling tangibly petrified about breast feeding, sleepless nights, lack of free time, my general selfishness, depression and weight gain and that is all extremely magnified by the sheer work involved in bringing two children into this world.

So instead I have been fixated on pregnancy and not parenthood. I have been buying every cute maternity top known to man, reading every pregnancy book ever written, checking pregnancy websites and not giving a thought to what comes next. I haven't bought one baby item, not even a bib or a cute pair of footies. I haven't interviewed pediatricians or lined up a nanny. I haven't visited the hospital or scheduled birthing classes. That would make it too real. But whether I do all those things (and I really need to) or not, these babies are coming. And as much as time is crawling by, I have a feeling I am going to look back and think my pregnancy was over in the blink of an eye.

I do have hope that some this will just come naturally as normal pregnancy things happen over the next few weeks. I am sure the fact that there are two human beings inside of me will become harder and harder to ignore as they start to cause more of a ruckus in there. And tomorrow morning we may be finding out the babies' genders, which will probably go a very long way in actually visualizing our family. Maybe by tomorrow I will know if I am in for a lifetime of makeup, purses and shoes or sports, dirt, and little Brents (shiver!) or a little bit of both!