The Third Trimester
I'm officially there as of today.
This means, among other things, that I can't see around my belly well enough to take a decent hack at the undergrowth, and will need to get a bikini wax before going to the beach next weekend. I don't know about you, but whenever I hear the term "bikini wax" I also hear the Psycho violins in my head. Not very excited about it.
It also means that my twins are so large that I have to be careful to align them each time I put on my bra. If I don't, then my bosom bears an uncanny resemblance to Marty Feldman each time they stand at attention.
This also means that I've gone absolutely wacko with the nesting. Leelo and I spent the morning at a car dealership, cruising minivans. It is only by the greatest exercise of self-restraint that I am not moving around all our bedroom furniture, since the current configuration doesn't allow for the bassinet to be by my bedside. I'm picking up a used crib from some friends today. I've been cruising the local listings for used glider/rockers (I know from experience that nursing on our hand-me-down couch will tweak my back badly). I've ordered the car seat and its matching, interlocking double stroller. Somehow I finally realized that my current, almost-four-year-old parent backpack looks like someone spent hours carefully rubbing it with crud, so a new backpack is on the way, too.
The last three items are all black, which is practical but kind of odd for baby gear, don't you think? But I am sick to death of navy blue, and the kind of colorful stroller that I lust after but would never buy doesn't come in a tandem version.
Which reminds me, female people, please stop wearing black tops with khaki bottoms. At least accessorize with orange socks, or something!