Friday, September 15, 2006

Feet, hands, teeth

My Dansko clogs have arrived, and already I have developed a deep and abiding love for them. Marvelous shoes! I also got myself a pair of cheapo slip-on flats at Old Navy yesterday, so I'm covered in the pregnancy footwear department, assuming I don't have any dress-up events to attend in the next few months (don't think I do....) and it doesn't snow bloody murder before I stop going to work.

Meanwhile, today my hands have been swelling, making me fear that my wedding and engagement ring were going to get stuck, if not now, then soon. So, off they came, and the ring is now on a chain around my neck, because I'm a sentimental gal like that. It also makes for easy old-world gender-prediction tests on the fly. The ring does two different things when I hold it low (Baby A) or high (Baby B), which suggests three possible conclusions: 1.) One of our girls is not, in fact, a girl 2.) One of our girls is gay? 3.) The ring test may not, in fact, be 100% scientifically accurate.

If we found out at this point that one of them was a boy, that would be really, really weird. I'm totally used to thinking of them as girls now.

A final observation before I end this rather lame post: while the pregnancy questions can get tiring, it is a nice sense of connection with other women. I had my teeth cleaned today, and the hygienist, probably in her early fifties, Medford born and raised with a fabulous Boston accent, was asking me all about my pregnancy, and telling me all about hers. She told me that she at one point craved yellow cake with white frosting, baked one for herself and ate it all in two days.

Normally, I'd really have nothing much to talk about with this woman besides the weather -- not that the dentist's office is the best place for conversation anyway, but nevertheless -- but because I was going through this universal womankind experience, we had a point of connection. As I left, she said "Make sure you come on a Friday for your next visit in six months so I'll get to see you again and hear all about your girls." I wish there was a female equivalent of "avuncular" because that's what she was, and it was sweet. Auntular?

Off to visit the 'rents for the weekend -- they haven't seen me looking this pregnant yet, so it should be trippy.


Blogger scruffylooking said...

After you have your babies, you can look forward to all the labor stories strange women will tell you. It seems like every woman either says her labor was 37 hours long or that she had her baby in the car on the way to the hospital.

9:21 PM  

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