This week has felt looooong, sons. It didn't help that I've been fretting over the twerps and the temperature dropped to arctic levels and it's been rainy and grey. I am very much looking forward to Friday Night Takeout Night tonight (Bamiyan Afghani Kebab edition!), eating more of those peanut butter and nutella cookies, eating trims from the Thomas Keller Oreos that I'm bringing to a dinner party tomorrow night, and putting my feet up and being cozy on the couch with the Big Yam.
I think we're going to watch My Neighbour Totoro.
Tomorrow is kind of a big day. Chinese school, grocery shopping, a meet-the-baby/birthday party in KW, then a "Sunday Roast at Grandma's" themed dinner at JJ & S's house immediately following. Discerning Coyote and his miss will also be there. I love themed dinners with those guys. It's the best. They're doing prime rib, and I'm bringing garlic mashed potatoes, and there's going to be Yorkshire pudding and gravy and S is doing this salad his grandma makes with nuts and mandarin oranges. There's also going to be some kind of triple-chocolate fudge cake. HELLO! Love those guys so hard.
Had a little check-in with the midwife this morning. I honestly don't know how people with OBs handle life. Like, now that I've had both experiences, I'm even more determinedly on the whole "midwives rule" train. What must it be like to not have someone go over your reports and results in detail with you? To have someone who doesn't book 45 minute appointments so you have plenty of time to ask questions and get answers? To not be dismissed when you have the temerity to ask about your own health care? I get that OBs have a great deal of training and I appreciate what they do for the women who need it, but my experience at Sunnybrook has been eye-opening. I am definitely a second-rate citizen there. My regular OB is way better, so I don't want to paint all OBs with the same brush. They have very busy schedules because they're dealing with any number of complex issues related to women's downstairs. Which is why I think the midwifery model for women who are having "normal" pregnancies makes sense, both from a financial perspective and a proactive health care model approach.
Anyway, she told me that I should sterilize all my pump stuff (!!!) and have a hospital bag ready (!!!). WHAT THE HECK!? TOO SOON! The idea being that if the twerps come early, then she wants me to start pumping ASAP to get them off the formula as rapido as possible. And that they might come earlier than I had been mentally preparing myself for, especially if twerp B continues to act weird. I'm trying to be all relaxed about everything and just take comfort in my lists and spreadsheets, but I also know that I'm going to be pretty upset if they have to stay in the hospital for like, 4 weeks if they come super-early. I'm totally going to be all like, roaming the halls crying out, "I WANT MY BABBIES! GIMME MY BABBIES!" Not to mention that I'm not even close to wrapping up all my work business yet. BLARGH. My midwife made a good point - if they are super-early, being in the hospital environment means that a lot of times, you don't feel like they're yours, because they are being attended to by so many people in a foreign environment. I never thought about that before, but I could totally see that. I know I'm going to be near-frantic to get them home if they don't sort themselves out in there.
Other interesting news: Twin A has been head down since like 20 weeks (he's obviously the GOOD BABBY - j/k - how bad would it be to already start assigning those characteristics?). Twin B is breach, but my midwife said that if I deliver vaginally, Twin A comes out first, and then Twin B can be kind of moved around so that he's head down, once there's space for him to be manipulated.
ANYWAY, enough about them, and more about how I want to sink my teeth into juicy tenderloin kebobs and boulagnee (that onion-y, flat-bready thing they serve) and buttery long grain rice, chased with salty, deep dark chocolate cookie trimmings from rolled cookies slathered in a white chocolate enriched cream. Oh yes, Friday night, I am yours.