Peanut Gallery

Another uneventful week has passed at Maison Piglet. The babies are still doing great, fluid is plentiful, my blood pressure is perfect and ye olde cervix is still long and closed at 3.1cm. Other than the fact that my left hand now forms a permanent claw (thank you, PUPPPs), I'm having an oddly uncomplicated twin pregnancy.

Uncomplicated but uncomfortable that is.

And now, because I am a recovering infertile, I feel forever compelled to warn you that this post is going to start sounding like a big whine fest, which of course, in no way nullifies my extreme gratitude and happiness about the Les Twinks. Dems I love, I love a lot. But when you're two days shy of 34 weeks pregnant with twins, your body becomes a bit of a freak show.

Just sayin'.

Case in point: Sometimes, and by sometimes I mean -- whenever I cross the threshold of my front door and am seen, even for one second, in broad daylight, people look at me with what can only be described as a mixture of panic and fear. Comments I've gotten from everyone from the grocery store clerk to transients, include:

• WHEN?!
• How much longer?!
• Are you having that baby RIGHT NOW?
• You are enormous.
• I can't believe you can walk around without falling forward.
• I feel sorry for you.
• I feel sorry for your husband.
• Should you be eating that?
• You must feel as big as a house, because that's how you look
• BEAR DOWN!!!

More often than not, there's no comment, but people do a double take and circle around get a second look, slowing down to a crawl as they pass by. I. SWEAR. TO. GOD.

And to be honest, I just take it all in stride. Because I'll be the first to admit, I am *quite* the spectacle. I'm 5'3" and carrying ten pounds worth of baby around, not in a sling or an Ergo, but IN MY FREAKIN' SKIN. You do the math.

Sometimes, even when I'm just hanging around the house, I imagine what people would say if they were there to witness my daily impersonation of a Weeble Wobble. For instance, every time I roll from one side to the other and successfully dismount my (double pillowtop) bed on the first try, I hear wild applause, along with "Ladies and gentlemen, she did it!!! She stuck the landing!!!" Or when I make like a flamingo eating chinese food by balancing on one foot and using a chopstick gracefully lean over the counter to open the kitchen shades in the morning, I think "Damn, I'm good!" Most days I just constantly hear circus music playing in the background (dun dun duh duh duh duh dun dun dun dun dun).

And if Mr. K is around, he shows his unconditional love and support by simply pointing and laughing.