I know I keep saying how I don’t believe in signs and omens and all that jazz yet I keep blabbering on about double rainbows and such WELL then a few weeks ago when Gates and I were driving back from somewhere a freaking mob of starlings descended on our car like something out of The Shining and it was seriously unsettling. Like hundreds of birds. Out of nowhere. And then were everywhere.

And it totally freaked me out and I started having this fog of darkness flitting around my brain that something wasn’t proper. Also Gates had been yapping about “bad things happening in threes” after the cat croaked and then the basement flooded 3 weeks into our renovation. So when I went for a checkup and found that somehow I had been losing weight over the past month my doc got me all freaked out about baby growth restriction and then we went for the ultrasound and found out that baby B flipped back into breech position and that baby A had excessive amniotic fluid that they could not find a cause for. Luckily both babies did show growth, although they are definitely on the shrimpy side of normal, so now it’s just weekly biophysical profiles and NSTs if anyone is looking less than wiggly on scan. So if this truly is the “third bad thing” I guess I’ll take it? But at the end of the day isn’t life a whole series of “bad things” if you choose to look at them that way? Like, there’s always a silver lining to something if you poke around for it. For instance, our cat was kind of a B and is probably happier haunting us from a distance than having me snatch her and force my love onto her whilst she struggled and growled. And the basement flooding taught me all about sump pumps and home warranties and industrial fans. Plus the new flooring hadn’t been installed yet. So it was a like a baptism of sorts, perhaps to cleanse our house from the demon cat soul that is now trapped within the walls. Idk. I’m no exorcist. But maybe I can do a little smudging with some herbs and spices just in case, for the sake of the children. And maybe sooner rather than later we can all do a little “smudging” with some very fun herbs, if you know what I mean – SO PLEASE GET OUT AND VOTE PEOPLE – you know what to do.

And then after hanging out like yin, yang, & yam (I’m the yam) for about a week, baby B flipped back to head down like a good little potato. So maybe I don’t believe in signs after all.

It’s crazy that we are in the homestretch of this uterine stretching. The average twin pregnancy lasts 35 weeks! And here we are! I’ve got an estimated 8-10 lbs of fluid on my legs and lower half (including fluid pockets in my lower abdomen which is hilariously hideous) and I can’t get any of my shoes on anymore a la Shrek:

But BP has been hanging steady and labs looking fine-ish so it’s just business as usual around here. I’m also over 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced which is layman’s terms for everything is getting all loosey goosey in my poosey. I’ve got 2 more weeks of work left and then it’s the week of my scheduled induction! YIKES and more YIKES I am so far from mentally prepared. But fret not because I am going to try to will my body into ignoring said induction attempt until we are out of the DANGER ZONE that would result in me having to live with 4 freaking Scorpios and instead balance us out a little better with the addition of 2 little happy, absent minded, adventurous Sagittariuses. Mommy’s little half-horsies. Yes yes, much easier to corral. And goes better with my own Capricorny goat tendencies, in the barnyard sense. However, that would mean somehow tricking my cervix into resisting the sweet, sweet call of cervical ripening agents for a full week so it’s looking more and more like we will be nestled up in the hospital for Thanksgiving with 2 little freshly basted and crisped turkeys. I think it’s probably time I pack a hospital bag that has more in it than 2 Zombie Dusts, 1 Todd the Axeman, 2 Pumpkin Lagers, and 1 very aged Hopslam. 

Let’s see, what else have we been up to… We threw ourselves a fiesta themed diaper shower and  were more than overwhelmed by the love from our amazing friends and family.

My mom also stayed and hung around for most of the week after which was totally awesome for Olivia and also my sanity, as she took over 100% of the parenting duties and I did nothing but this:

We made our final trek to Lambeau for the season:

We’ve hit every pumpkin farm and fall themed activity known to man and eaten all the apple cider donuts and apples we can handle:

We’ve bonfired and landscaped and yard worked and trick or treated and played in leaves and celebrated retirements and birthdays and gone to housewarmings and watched Ozark and Packer games and experienced post-season baseball for the first time in a while and made insomnia fueled carseat purchases and sketchy Craigstlist deals and smoked meats and had the air conditioning and heat on in the same day… so… pretty typical Midwestern fall for us. Hope yours was the same.

I cannot say this last stretch of gestating has been enjoyable in any sense, as much as I would like to be a Positive Polly. I won’t go into details but Polly feels like death. Big, fat, wet, sweaty, rotten, moist death. But as a huge believer in mind over matter, so I’ve got my head down and aimed towards the finish line and doing my best not to be a whiney giney. Although not exactly curing me of what ails me I have a few new tricks up my sleeve I’ve been whipping out to get me through the day: 1) I’ve started taking many super hot showers, temporarily ignoring my usual stance on water conservation and letting the steaming wetness cleanse me of my sins for so long I eventually start to black out and then and only then do I turn off the water. V relaxing. 2) I’ve started somewhat aggressively bouncing on a yoga ball at work when I chart and 13/10 recommend as both a distraction for pelvic pain and also for colleagues trying to focus on their own work. 3) I’ve embraced an, I’ll call it, f*ck it attitude with in regards to parenting and have basically stopped enforcing any rules with Olivia. Cream cheese on a tortilla chip for dinner? Yup. Turn on the TV and hand her the remote while I lay on the floor and close my eyes? Absolutely. Refusing a diaper change when clearly saturated to the burstings? Go for it kid. Resist nap all day? Solid choice, I’ll applaud your independence from my melted into the dirty floor looking like a crippled hippo position. To be fair though, Olivia has been seriously hilarious and awesome lately. So sweet and snuggly, despite being a teething monster. It only takes me gently saying “be nice to Mama” one time after she smacks me now for her to say “oh oh oh sorry Mama, nice, nice, nice” and start rubbing my face or patting my boob going “nice boobie Mama” very sweetly. She really is quite gentle with my belly lately and we practice all of our name choices out on her to see how they sound coming out of her mouth with her adorable little toddler dialect. She is getting to be quite the bossy boots and is absolutely sure of all of her choices in life. Even the tantrums are hilarious because she is so dramatic and woeful. Recently my in-laws got to see one of her epic meltdowns which I was thrilled about, since she usually reserves the real cranktacular stuff for me and acts like a little sweetie pie whenever anyone else is watching. Full on rolling around on the floor and screaming and sobbing and kicking and yelling NOOOOOOO in response to any suggestion we had for providing relief to her poor, poor soul. A nice long one too. Just grand. I just adore that little diva.

OH! You know what, I do know what the third bad thing was! A few weeks ago I made a diving save at the playground to keep Olivia from toppling over the edge of the play structure and in my heroics I smashed the absolute hell out of my head and bashed my teeth together in a most terrific way. At the time, I was surrounded by attractive dads on parental duty with their offspring so I played it cool even though I was seeing stars like they do in cartoons so I kept a grin on my face and super sneakily spit out the blood that was pooling attractively in my mouth. I got a fabulous goose egg out of it but didn’t think too much of it until I woke up one morning a few weeks later with ungodly tooth pain. One urgent dental visit later confirmed that I totally damaged the tooth (granted it was a tooth that has already had 2 chip repairs due to clumsiness and wasn’t in it’s best fighting shape to begin with) and found myself in the ol’ root canal chair a few hours later. But I guess all things considered I was lucky with how quickly the problem presented and how quickly it was resolved. Now to just try to get a crown made before I make the full descent into the pit of newborn despair. Godspeed!

Blobbing around to the max!

And a few belly shots for laughs –

And finally – me trying to do the hilarious suck-in pose, but literally too out of breath to get a good shot! Those days are over.

And one last parting shot – the only photo either baby would give us at their last scan. Typical. Right back at you kiddo.