Yes. I am wearing Oscar the Grouch pajamas. I have always loved him. One of the first songs I sang was I Love Trash. What better way to acknowledge my Muppet love than with pajamas?
I wish I had something exciting to report. I’ll admit, it IS exciting to write I have made it to week 35 without incident. My stomach is large and high. As you can see, the Oscar the Grouch top does not actually fit. I am hoping these little boy dumplings will keep cooking in there for at least two more weeks.
At my appointment with Dr. S last Monday the dumpling of the left side of my stomach was head down and ready. My zen baby … except when he starts beating his hands on my cervix every night like he is trying to break out of Alcatraz.
The other one was in sort of a curved, transverse position. His head was half-way down my right side. Without going into elaborate detail, I’ll just say, this guy is definitely my little Jonathan. He moves, he grooves, he hangs on to my ribs for dear life — sometimes I think he is taking a spin class in the womb.
Zen is not exactly the word that comes to mind for his enthusiastic nature.
I’ll admit, recently I’ve had some uncertain moments. Some cramping and Braxton Hicks contractions have occurred that made me think they were coming … but these scares always end with me sitting on the couch eating an Outshine Bar before taking yet another nap.
I have fully surrendered to the nap. Multiple naps.
Friday I picked up my new glasses (seen in photo above). These correct the astigmatism that has been making my world blurry. I made the decision not to wear contacts until after the babies are born and I find out if this new blurry existence is permanent. I don’t care if it is, really. But I don’t want to buy expensive astigmatism contacts only to find out it isn’t.
The nesting gene most definitely has me organizing and re-organizing everything. My husband has to stop me and put me to bed. On one level, I have never felt more prepared, and yet I know there is no way we are anywhere near prepared for what is about to take over our lives.
The nursery is ready except for a few small things. All the clothes and diapers I need in the beginning are washed and folded. The swing and the bouncer are put together and I even have the batteries! We’re packed for the hospital. I’ve pre-registered at the hospital. We have a pediatrician. Jonathan is getting the car seats put in the car the car.
I’ve bought the fabric for the Halloween costumes … because, you know, all 4-week old infants need a Halloween costume. I will admit – if you’ve been following the blog you’re going to love them – or at least the idea of them. We’ll see how they turn out.
It’s true that the first year of a child’s life is all about photo-ops for the parents. I just hope I don’t make people crazy by taking nine gazillion pictures. I’ll try to abstain, but make no promises. After all, I’ve been looking at pictures of everyone’s kids, animals and food for five years. (And I love every one of them!)
Here is where I gasp and say I can’t believe I’ve been on Facebook for five years.
Speaking of Facebook, I have a favor to ask my readers. I am going to be locking down my personal Facebook page after the Dumplings are born. I want to be able to share things on my personal page that are not for the blog or the world. I am no longer going to allow people to follow my personal page, so if you are, I ask that you like my Terrilox page by clicking here or subscribing via email.
On Tuesday we have our final appointment with our perinatologist, Dr. D. Hopefully we’ll get our final 3D pictures of the Dumplings before we hold them.
This week I’ve listened to a lot of Emmy Lou Harris. I sang the entire Red Dirt Girl album to the Dumplings the other day and read to them from Where the Sidewalk Ends.
I feel the singing and reading is starting to connect with them. They know I am communicating with them. I especially feel their responses when I rub my belly while doing it. It’s as if they are playing with me during this time. I wish I could explain it better, but they move and react to my hand and voice in ways I have not noticed until recently.
Earlier this week I was driving and singing in the car. I always sing in my car with the radio turned up. I worry sometimes that I am singing them too much country music and not enough classical music. Or smart people music. (What is smart people music?) Am I making them dumb in advance by my music choices? After all, really smart people have written books saying that classical music makes babies brains bigger.
But I can’t sing classical music in the car.
So I sing Runnin’ Outta Moonlight and Little Umbrellas (among other things) and hope for the best. Perhaps I can make-up the classical music in the future … when I’m not driving?