Like Water for Heartburn

We are huge - like Jabba the Hut huge...

Yup, still pregnant.

These babies show no sign of wanting to go anywhere!

I can understand why they might want to stay where they are - the food supply is constant (chocolate ice cream, chocolate brownies, hot chocolate... mac n' cheese), it's warm, they are carried around everywhere and can nap whenever they please, there aren't any wet, dirty diapers and they can cuddle on each other whenever they like.

For me who is carrying them things are not so easy. I can only sleep an hour or two at a stretch (practice for later, right?) The joints in my crotchal area feel like someone has been after them with a baseball bat. And lately, when I am trying to sleep, I get heartburn from the water I drink before I go to bed!

Good times.

I've been working still, on a day-to-day basis, though I took today off as a mid-week recuperative day. I just can't decide whether or not to go back tomorrow. The whole broken crotchal area makes commuting less than fun, but I don't want to waste any of my maternity leave. I selfishly want to save it ALL for when the babies are here.

Whenever that might be.

Any hoo, I have made a small amount of progress in the nursery. The babies won't have to go naked or diaperless when we bring them home! Euge put together their crib in our room and it is HUGE. I feel like they will be swimming around in there.

I have to go finish packing my bag for the hospital because, really, this is getting ridiculous. Sometime in the next seven days, these babies are going to be evicted.

Bitter, Part 2

It's been a bad week for coffee here.

Here at SSP, we try to please out readers. So when Dave wrote a comment on last night's post, which read "I was hoping so very much for some type of comment on the Starbucks shut-down. *sigh* I guess I'll have to have a conversation about it with myself, " well, I knew I must respond.

Turns out I have something to say on the topic. Here it is:

Oh Starbucks. It's just too late. If SBUX were a favorite TV show, we would say they jumped the shark. If you were a lover, SBUX, we would make you a mix CD with songs like "Too Late To Apologize" and other bad pop songs that express our displeasure. You, SBUX, you would listen to it in your car, and it would make you drive too fast, and pound the steering wheel with your fist. You would abandon the delicate seductions of China, the callous enticements that France has laid before you, and promise to never stray again.

We would not be fooled. We would not be taken in again. We knew the Pike Place shop when the counter held big glass jars of bittersweet chocolate and you went there to buy real beans, the best beans. We knew you, SBUX, when you bought Torrefazione, and promised to stay true, promised not to change a thing. We knew you even after the coffee went bad, we forgave you when there was nothing left between us but two-for-one splits, and double digit growth. We forgave you. For the good times.

But Starbucks, you broke our hearts. Just like Citysearch, and Kozmo.com and Immunex and the Supersonics. Now it's too late to apologize. Tell em, Timbaland...

I'd take another chance, take a fall, take a shot for you
And I need you like a heart needs a beat

(But that's nothing new)
Yeah yeah

You tell me that you need me
Then you go and cut me down

But wait...You tell me that you're sorry
Didn't think I'd turn around and say..

It's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late

Woahooo woah

Word.

No Title For Old Men

Layin low here in Seattle. Weekend was good, stopped by to see Jessica and taught her to knit while simultaneously trying to find sunglasses in the shape of hearts (white) on the internet. Not so much luck, so buy me a pair when you see them, will you? Cause I'm sure one of your first stops with those twins will be St Mark's Place. No?

There's much more to tell, but I'm on a weird little writing kick at the moment, so I'm gonna get back to that. Catch ya in a day or two.

Decorating for the babies

I have come to realize that I am lacking a nesting instinct when it comes to getting the nursery ready for the babies. Though I must say that this art appeals to me, I am struggling with how to make all of the lovely things we recieved at their shower hang together.

No pressure, but Dakota set a pretty high standard with Joseph's nursery...


See how colorful and non-sex specific it is?

I feel like part of the problem is not having met the babies yet. But when they get here, I won't have time for decorating a nursery. Did you know that it takes an estimated 15 HOURS A DAY to feed twins? This would not seem to leave much time for finding cute paint colors and just the right carpet...

We have some items in place... but the overwhelming color seems to be brown! I think that we think that when they come, we'll be able to brighten it all up with blue or pink accents... but I worry about my babies growing up in a world of taupe.

Any hoo, I am going to go do some deep thinking in their room and see if something doesn't jump out and inspire me.

I suppose putting away the ironing board that has taken up residence in there might be the first step.

Why Honey = Yummy

Mmmm.... yummy... you want to eat me...

So this is a bit of a shameless plug for my friend Patty's candy 'Why Honey...'

Why I am I promoting it here? There are the obvious reasons, of course - it's delicious and comes in dark chocolate or milk chocolate and I heart anything that comes dipped in any form of chocolate these days...

But actually, there are other reasons too. Like how I have watched Patty persevere with unflagging enthusiasm and self-confidence over the last months to create this, her first product, in as commercially viable a way possible.

This has meant getting her product name legally trademarked (after the first four were rejected as being too close to other product names), finding commercial cooking space to produce it, lugging 50 lb bags of raw chocolate to said space, spending days resourcing packaging materials, working with a designer (no, not me) to create and produce a label, finding retail outlets for her product and hosting a launch party (which I am told was pretty fabulous, though I couldn't go because of the BABIES!) for said product.

This is Patty and I, pre-pregnancy out whoopin' it up while Euge was in India - I think all the fun she made me have while he was gone was the reason I got pregnant as soon as he got back!

Any hoo, I just really admire and want to support all of the hard work and - dare I say it - heart, that she has put into this product. This delicious, addictive, honey-ish chocolatey-ish bag of deliciousness.

Come on and be the first on your block to discover how fabulous it it. It's available online and I can tell you that dear Patty suffers the US Postal Service personally to get the candy to you as quickly as possible.

The twins love the dark chocolate especially. They say 'Buy some candy!' or at least that's how I am interpreting their kicks as I write this.

Super Exclusive Book Club, V. 2

Last sighting of the copy of NAW previously known as my own

So, it's pretty easy to keep your book club exclusive when you pick books like Ben Marcus' Notable American Women. When I gave my first copy of the book away, I warned the recipient that I wasn't completely sure it was actually readable. Not that I didn't think it would be well-written, I just wondered if it was going to be possible for me to pick up the book, move through a word, then a sentence, then a paragraph, then a page, and at the end of that, feel that I had done more than just look at a collection of letters. Not like, the "Dear Ben" kind of letter, more like ABCD kind of letters.

Turns out I needn't have worried. Exactly. Cassandra, Kathleen, Lisa and I all agreed that we would not want to have to say exactly what the book was about, or explain to an innocent bystander just what exactly was going on, nor would we want to claim that we understood the book. I think I felt a little more comfortable with the not-knowing, though perhaps they will correct me if I am wrong, and I certainly have plenty to say about the contents of the book, when in the company of three smart ladies like C, K, and L. What this book did offer to all of us though, vividly, for better or worse, was a very distinct experience of having read it. This book made all of us laugh, marvel at its cleverness in places, feel moved by an intense sense of loneliness in the book, by shame and other things, but of course we also wanted, on occasion, very much, to throw the book and Ben Marcus himself across the room. And none of us, by the time Book Club met, had finished it.

No matter, we were inspired afterwards to read through, if only to see, how do you end a book like this? The kind of book that you can read aloud to your husband (if you happen to have a nice one) while you are laughing, I imagine, nearly hysterically at some absurdity, at the way it will strike him, being heard out of context, and have him say "What the HELL are you reading?". Things about rags in mouths and Fainting Tanks and almonds and "wind" as a word sometimes misspelled as I-t-h-u-r-t-s. It was, nonetheless a work that had its own internal logic and that is something I very much admire in a piece of writing.

Also, in discussing endings, and how Ben Marcus could possibly end this particular collections of sentences, Cassandra came up with an excellent term for a kind she has come to dislike - the "Poetic Shrug". Good, isn't it?

Feet Week

The photo above is from the writing week at Zion, but the scene here at the Queenview tonight is pretty much the same. Minus the fireplace. Pajamas, hand-knit socks. Big sigh. I'm just feeling.... hibernatious tonight. I keep thinking it's strange how I feel, sort-of paralyzed and empty, not in a terrible way, but the idea of blogging or writing or doing much other than knitting... eh.

Of course the nice thing about actually sitting down to write a blog post is that I realize instantly that it's not strange at all that I feel like sitting down on the couch and staying there. I've been running since... uh, yeah, I don't even know how to find the start of it. Let's call it October, since I seem to be trying to fit the time-off lifestyle and travel schedule into the corners that aren't occupied by my full-time job.

Hmh. I think that's all I'm gonna say tonight. I'm a little tired, and the kitchen still needs cleaning, and if I knit real fast I can probably finish those new rainbow socks....

(And don't think that I don't know that my tired is nothing, compared to the tired you are feeling now, not to mention the tired you are soon to feel. You win! No contest!)

I have the feet of a Welsh fishwife*

See how purty my feet used to be?

What does that mean really? I don't know, but it was what came to mind when I was looking at my feet yesterday. They look all sausage-y and bloated. Ten little piggy sausages sticking out of two great big sausages. Not the slender appendages I am used to!

In fact, I even - briefly - considered wearing sneakers to work.

However, the sausages still fit into my boots so, even though I feel like a contortionist every time I do it, I put my boots on and went to work this morning. Putting on boots is easier than putting on stockings. Believe me.

Last Friday was supposed to be my last day at work, but I don't do well sitting at home alone with the big screen TV. Squandering my precious maternity leave on Oprah and re-runs of 'Flip That House' really doesn't sit well with me. I know that I will want the time when my niblets are here! I will want that time for you to visit!

Plus, I am not really capable of doing much except sitting at this point, so I might as well sit at my desk - rather than sitting at home being driven slowly insane by the unfinished state of the nursery and the dustballs that are collecting under the couches. On the weekends I keep thinking that I can do stuff, only to find myself completely unwound by the effort later.

And taking the subway is quite an experience when you are measuring 50 weeks pregnant.

So I am taking things on a day by day basis and hoping to at least finish out the week.

We had an OB appointment tonight and the babies' constant movement over the last few days has not changed their positions. Baby A (good baby!) is still head down and Baby B (loveable troublemaker!) is breach. Tomorrow morning we find out how big they are now, and I get to spend a half an hour laying about listening to their heartbeats.

They've been moving like crazy but I am sure that when the monitors are hooked up tomorrow and the Doctors want them to move, they will decide it is a GREAT time for a NAP!

Any hoo, I am doing well - aside from the sausage feet. I got out and about a bit this weekend, though I primarily inhabited the couch. I've lost half a pound since last week. Woohoo - keeping the weight gain right under 5o pounds! As if.

Bring on the ice cream!

Cervix is tight as a drum and we are hoping the babies won't make an appearance until after my OB is back from vacation next Monday...

* No offense to the Welsh, of course. Welsh fishwife just has such an evocative ring to it, doesn't it?

Home

This is how you know, right? Oh good lattes, how I missed you. I did manage to make a few good cups of coffee on the stovetop espresso maker, but it's really not the same.

Writing week in Zion was great. I'm not up for that post right now, but it really was great. At the end of it, I felt like I had been away for a long time, and there was a tinge of that "Does it matter if I ever go back?" feeling.


And that made the actual coming home really lovely, quite unexpectedly so. It's been sunny and gorgeous since Saturday, the kind of sunny that makes you believe it's going to be summer again some day. Saturday was my first weekend day in Seattle in ages, and I woke in the morning feeling like I had all the time in the world.

I took advantage of it by going to Ballard Fiore, since it had been months since I was there. Josie was working, and not fifteen minutes after I arrived, Jason and Kate arrived, much to my delight, and then Kevin too. One of the best things about living in the same city for ages is that it's not at all difficult to run into people you know and love, people who make the world seem hospitable and full of fun. That was Saturday morning.

The afternoon was spent on a long walk with Bobby and his aunt's dog Sasha, in the sunshine at Lincoln Park. Later we got soft serve ice cream and sat in the car at Golden Gardens, hiding from the cold wind that had come up, watching people with their dogs.

Saturday night was Maldives at the Tractor with Kate. Have you checked them out yet? It's time you did. Their CD is worth having, but of course live is best.

Today was similar. Coffee with Susan at Queen Anne Fiore, a ritual I have missed, and then errands in the sun. Later I rescued Kate from her computer and was rewarding by having her read me poems and indulge me in girl talk. It was a nice end to the weekend, a little reminder that the life of the mind is alive and well not only with my writing group, but here in my Seattle life too.

Hope your weekend was just as good!

Still Here

... at writing group week in Zion. Since Bucky wasn't here to entertain us, last night we popped The Last Waltz into the DVD player and turned it up loud on the big screen. It was amazing, of course, and made that much better by the fact that we had two rows of big cushy seats in our little theater, all filled with the kind of women who make you feel like you might be living the writing workshop equivalent of having Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Rick Danko and Bob Dylan all up on stage with you.

Robbie or Rick? Please. Rick. Of course.

An Update

Mmmm... babies like cupcakes!

Well, the twins are staying put in mah belly (Austin Powers, anyone?) for at least a bit longer.

Baby A is head down and moving like mad, but Baby B has taken it upon itself to turn all around and be sideways. After months of both babies being head down and in proper delivery position this is... ummm.. a bit annoying.

I really can't figure out how it is that Baby B has so much space to maneuver! I mean, I'm big but theoretically there are two 5+ pound babies in there!

Any hoo, our OB is on vacation until the 25th and, since she's the only Doctor in the practice who could deliver them from this position without a c-section, I REALLY want her to be there.

(You will note that I tried to avoid the v-word there, to avoid us popping up in any unfortunate Google searches.)

So, in order to hold out until the 25th I am trying numerous things. I am not above spending loads of time on the couch, with my feet up, watching bad television. I am also willing to consider a reward system, whereby the twins receive cupcakes and ice cream for staying put.

I am willing to put up with the stretch marks that have recently made an appearance and I will stay home from work on Wednesdays, go to the 5 doctors appointments I have between now and then AND order in every single meal if that will keep them in place for another 12 days.

I totally realize that I am on their schedule and that they will pretty much come whenever they want... but if anyone has any suggestions as to what might make them decide to bake a bit longer, I am totally willing to take it under advisement.

I should also mention that there is quite a healthy betting pool going at my office. Whoever gets the date/sex and birth weight closest wins $200!

We'll be 36 weeks tomorrow! Yay for Valentines Day!

Just Hey.

Every time the phone rings here, I wonder if it's babies... My stomach flops right over.

More photos on Flickr. It's good here.

Temporary Blogging Blackout!

Missing! But not in rehab. Just missed. As are Kae, Barb and Susan.

Ha, not really. But I have disappeared. Or at least this is how it feels out here, near the east gate of Zion National Park, where there is no cell service, and where the big house we have taken over for the week is neatly packed away in drifts of untouched snow. There is internet, as you can see, but otherwise, I feel quite hibernatious, all tucked away in my pajamas and green striped socks with endless mugs of tea.

So much better than Cirque. It's not parents who are the anti-drug, it's girlfriends.

Mija! You Be the Judge!

Jenny from the block at Marchesa... satin is not your friend at this point, my sistah!

So, apparently La Lopez is ALSO expecting twins... right around the same time as I am! Totally biting my style, but whatever...

Anyhoo, I saw this picture of her and could not help but think that perhaps I am outgrowing La Lopez in the belly department, but at least I dress it up better, no?

Big, yes - undeniably so. But wrinkly and baggy? Umm, I think not!

I would also like to mention that she is not doing anybody any favors by wearing those stilettos. I am not admiring the inner personal strength that allows her to stand and smile on the outside whilst collapsing and whimpering on the inside...

I am thinking 'why must you set this horrible Christina Aguilera-esque example for poor pregnant women everywhere? I thought you were more mature than that nonsense!

Plus, if you MUST wear heels - don't make them the kind that cut you off at the ankles... they make your knees look fat. And at this point, the knees are all we've got left.'

Yup, that's what I'm thinking.

Just Two Things I Like A Lot

Tom's big breakfast at Lola -octopus!

Getting ready to go to Zion National Park for the next writing week, so just a couple photos today.

So pretty I sometimes call him Beyonce.

So Super

I love this photo of Pam. From the hot springs, of course. There's something about those photos that I love and keep coming back to. The way they aren't quite right, but in a way that makes me want to look at them more. That's the kind of writing I want to do. Not there yet.

I was in Denver this weekend, in case you were wondering what all that airplane stuff was about. All that flying during my year off left me with a few frequent flyer miles, which really should only be used, in my opinion, for completely frivolous things like flying to CO to watch the Big Game. Even though the big game was in AZ. Whatever. Pam was in Denver, and so was new style sushi and a great movie theater with a bar in the lobby, and Pam's ridiculously pretty and smart god-daughter and my sunglasses. My sunglasses will be in Denver forever because at breakfast they were flushed down the toilet. Yeah, zip! Just gone down the pipe.

Sometimes that's just the way it goes.

The End of an Era

That's a 15-year-old sticker y'all. Mom put it on the door.

Well, I would write about the shower.... but I really need someone to send me some pictures so that I can! An un-illustrated account of the shower could not possibly do justice to the madness, the mayhem, the avalanche of adorable baby nonsense that has now taken over our home...

But as soon as I get some pictures, I will type something right up!

In the meantime, I wanted to take a moment to memorialize the apartment that is no more.

4c gave and gave and gave. It was not unlike the giving tree - right up until the very last moment when it gave me a five-figure buyout from the landlords (naturally the funds are going directly to the twins college fund...).

It gave me years (15!) of below-market rents.

It gave me the experience of suing my landlords - which did a lot for my backbone.

It gave me multiple roommates... of which you, dear sister, are the only one with whom I am still in touch. Karen? Rebecca? Shenan? Gone with the wind.

It gave me freedom to travel. That below market rent thing.

It gave me Eugene - I am convinced to this day that he was with me for the cheap rent.

It gave me stability - which in New York is saying something!

It gave me the house in Vermont (see below market rent thing again).

It gave me the down payment for our new apartment (ditto).

And it gave me many many fine memories of many many fun cocktail parties.

It gave me a home.

It was a shoebox (in shape, if not actual size) and it had only two windows, but when I left it last thursday - for the very last time - I had a real moment of sadness to be closing that chapter of my life. I would have taken pictures but, with everything out of it, it looked barren and sad and kind of stubbly. It wasn't really my place any more.

I love the new apartment and I love that the babies are soon to arrive, and I know that I am not missing the four flights of stairs. But there will always be a part of me (perhaps hanging out with the mythical ghost of John Belushi?) that lives there.

That lived there.

A last walk out the door.

Home Safe

A Few Agenda Items for the Year of Bravery

Me as a lobster

My friend Kae has a tradition she takes part in with some old friends of hers, where every year they choose a word, one word, to describe the past year and one word to describe the new year. Being the word lover and New Year lover that I am, I love the idea of this tradition.

I've been thinking about it ever since she mentioned it before our trip to the hot springs. I still don't know what the word was for last year - The Year of Leaving, maybe? Let me know if you think of it for me. I did choose a word for 2008, though. Not too surprising that I went right for the future word, is it? I just can't get that future stuff out of my head. Anyway, it came to me right around the time I realized that if I wanted to actually get a chance to chat with Pam while we were hanging out at the hot springs, I was going to have to get into the pool they called the Lobster Pot. 110 degrees. The word I needed at that moment was Bravery. At the end of the year we can decide how well I did with this, but I'm liking it so far. I think the future word will work best if it's a word that will help me when I feel like I'm at a crossroads, sort-of a question I can ask myself.

In other future news, I've finally put together my list of 36 things to do before I turn 37. Last year, I fell in love with Andrea's list, and since she wrote a new one for her most recent birthday, I decided I needed to catch up.

It was interesting writing this - really hard to come up with that many. Is it cheating to have all that sock knitting on there? I don't care, I really do want to knit all those things and a lot more this year. I like knitting as a measure of time. The interesting thing about making the list this time was noticing that it made me feel like I'm already pretty content I with my life. I didn't feel like there were many things that I don't already do, nor did I feel like I needed a list to get myself to do things. Though there are some dreaded tasks on there, like teeth cleaning. Okay, it was also interesting to think about what I didn't want to put on the list, like the trips I want to take to Bora Bora and Iceland one day, or anything about, um, not being single for the rest of my life. Nope, those things just don't belong there right now. We're doing other things in 2008.

Anyway, here it is in all its glory. I do like having it, but more than that, I know that at the end of the year, I will like having it to look back on. I read a great interview the other day with Julie Christie, who I think I might want to be, and she quoted Sarah Polley saying "Memory is the way you make sense of love." I think memory is the way I make sense of everything. That's a big sentence, lots to think about there, but we'll leave that for the future.

1. Hold the twins
2. Stay at Ace Portland again
3. Make myself some more nice mittens for the work walk
4. Ride the Orbiter one more time before they close it down
5. Read the new translation of War & Peace
6. Read all of J.D. Salinger again
7. Walk 1,000 miles
8. Go back to buying a book of poetry a week
9. Blog a little about aforementioned poetry books
10. Get rid of unwanted books
11. Do something about the closets
12. Go to Tomales again
13. Learn how to use that feature on my camera associated with the little tulip icon
14. Make some financial goals
15. Eat at Nishino
16. Finish socks for Dad
17. Finish socks for Kirsten
18. Knit socks or Kristin (who also needs to be the target of a blog post this year, for sure!)
19. Knit socks for Regan (ditto the paranthetical item above)
20. Knit socks for the latest additions to our writing group
21. Knit shawl for Kate
22. Knit something special for Algene
23. Knit something special for Eugison
24. Take another ferry trip to Bainbridge
25. Get my teeth cleaned
26. Set up my writing stuff at home
27. Buy another piece of art
28. Frame another existing piece or two
29. Get back to the ranch for a picture with grown-up Liam
30. Get to Macleod Residence (or breakfast, or the yarn store) with HxB
31. Get Pam to Seattle, preferably for something completely frivolous
32. Take a secret trip that I can’t talk about here yet
33. Pick up the novel again. Just pick it up.
34. Take more writing risks
35. Take even more writing risks than that
36. Be brave

And that's gonna have to keep you kids busy for the weekend, cause guess what? I'm getting on a plane again tomorrow AM. It's a good thing they put out the New Yorker weekly.

XOXO
H