This is for Erin, since she is the one who requested an update. You’re welcome.
As most of you (both of you) know, I recently got back from a trip home e to visit my family. We had a really good time the first part of the trip, got to go to north Georgia, saw both sets of grandparents, lots of family and ate plenty of good food. Then my mom got a cough about halfway into our trip that developed into bronchitis and because my girls are such sympathetic little bugs, they decided they too needed to start coughing/wheezing/have snot run down their face constantly/run fevers of 103+. Needless to say, I feel really good about the amount of quality time I was able to spend on my parents’ couch.
My older sister flew home with me in hopes that I wouldn’t get murdered by strangers for having a couple snotty-nosed screamers to deal with, which was fairly successful. I mean, I wasn’t murdered and the death-glare toll was way down from my last foray into the skies with the girls but the youngest of the two girls still proved to be a challenge. Turns out a squirmy 14 month old is not the ideal traveling companion.
Speaking of 14 month olds…. We have some friends who call their granddaughter Osama. Although I’m pretty sure they love her, they go on and on about what a terrorist she is. Now, I’m not one to shy away from slightly disparaging nicknames for my kiddos (especially if they’re throwing down in the middle of a store for no reason at all, biting one another, or generally being pills), so I never really questioned their description of their little granddaughter as a terrorist…Now do I not only NOT question it, but I’m stealing the nickname for Line. She.Is.A.TERRORIST! I mean, sure. She looks like the Pampers/Gerber baby rolled into one with those hazel doe eyes and dimples, but sit that girl down for 3 seconds and she tears off in the direction of the nearest valuable with a glint of destruction in her eyes. She eats rolls (rolls) of toilet paper on the reg and she tries to pull down any cup that might have an ounce of liquid in it to spew across the floor. It’s not uncommon for me to clean up her spills 5-7 times a day…in between rerolling and salvaging whatever toilet paper she didn’t eat and consoling her sister who she has repeatedly slapped on her back, trying to take away whatever toy Ans is playing with. Also, I’m pretty sure she speaks Parcel Tongue. No words come out of her mouth, just different volumes of hisses. And at this moment, she is snuggled up next to D and smiling sweetly. Beware people, she’s dangerous.
Not quite as dangerous as Line is Ans, who besides refusing to potty train, is generally a pretty pleasant human being. I feel like the time period from 14-22ish months when I neglected her so I could take care of the terrorist really made her self-sufficient. Besides the whining. She whines….a lot. Like, even Pawpaw who thinks the sun rises and sets on “Annie Bean” doesn’t understand it. And I quote, “Yuns ne’er did make on lik’ ‘at.” If any of you think I’m exaggerating my father’s accent for any kind of effect, you’re mistaken. What you just read is a phonetically accurate interpretation of the way he speaks.
Anyway, that’s the girls. Generally they’re good. The boys are…expensive. Turns out being twice as pregnant means twice the amount of prenatal care. Besides going to the doctors every other week, I’m also getting an in-depth ultrasound every three weeks or once a month. This last ultrasound showed fluid on both babies kidneys so now we’re headed to a MFM on Tuesday to run more tests and see if the fluid retention (pelvic something) is “clinically significant.” PS For y’all not lucky enough to be in the know, MFM stands for Maternal Fetal Medicine. Basically a doctor for your unborn baby. They generally enter the picture when a pregnancy is deemed “high risk” or like when one of those 70 year old actress types decides she wants to start a family—they’re there for when your regular OB/GYN won’t cut it. Anyway, from what the doctor told me and from what I’ve garnered from WebMD, I think this is the most common abnormality that they’ll find in an ultrasound at this stage. My doctor didn’t seem too concerned and so D and I aren’t freaking either, he just thinks it’s weird that both babies are holding onto this fluid so he’s just sending us for a second opinion. Don’t get me wrong, I’m willing to follow any and all doctor’s advice when it comes to the health of my babies, but dadgum, don’t any doctors do this kind of thing out of the goodness of their hearts?! Turns out doctors are expensive. So while, as I said, I’m willing to do any and everything possible to ensure these kiddos get here sage and sound, I’m really gonna put the pressure on at least one of them to become a doctor or lottery winner or something so Momma gets some compensation for all the time/money/effort spent on this end of things!