Month 6.

Week 24: I love my life.

I love the yard. I love my chicken. I love the husband and the children and the wildness of our schedule and the lack of sleep and all the friends and the church.

Everything is roses and I have twins growing in my tummy which is infinitely cooler than anything I’ve ever done ever in my life; far more amazing than the time Michael Jackson came over to my house to use the bathroom.

The Oklahoma heat is finally calming the junk down after a long muggy summer. Arbor seems to be coming out from that (2-year-long) phase we do not speak of. Lucy is nothing but smiles and giggles and flirtatious eyelash-batting. Mia and Merrick are eating $300 worth of groceries every 3 days as they play every sport known to mankind. And Caleb is mostly in town being his hilarious wonderful self.

My belly is huge and life is good.

The babies kick hard now. They are a jumble of thumps and kicks and twirls–I can never tell who is actually who. They both move so much.

I’m obsessed with getting their nursery done within the next month, since with each passing week I get more and more exhausted. I have some genuine concerns about my future physical limitations, and all I can picture is Caleb rolling me over in bed to prevent bedsores and infections, maybe scrubbing me with a mop. A time is fast approaching when I will simply stop leaving the house. I am so very afraid of my size potential.

My Bell’s Palsy is trying to make a comeback, which is of course awesome because my self esteem doesn’t suffer enough from the double amount of space my thighs now take up. I’m trying to “rest” it off, which (I think?) is actually helping. Yesterday the entire left side of my face ached and my food tasted like penicillin; today I’m feeling only minimal twitching in my eye. I’m hopeful. It’d really be awful to have photos taken of my newborn twins and me with my half-slumped “not impressed” face:

I can feel my face twitching and wilting and then nothing and then it’s all good after a full 45 minutes’ worth of sleep at night, and then with the twitching. At this juncture Bell’s is probably a suckish nightmare from which there is no escape; I’d rather not deal with it. But if this is my path then I will walk it with dignity and a kickass pirate-patch over my eye.


About Toni

Mom. Wife. Artist. I take care of the kids and pretend to clean sometimes. I can cook spagetti and I have never been arrested. View all posts by Toni

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