Things she said

I think pregnancy and giving birth are generally times when personal boundaries and a sense of dignity are forgotten.

Examples:
Complete strangers rubbing your belly
Multiple doctor's appointments where they check, um, all sorts of things...
Detailed questions from people you don't know very well
Advice from complete strangers
Yadda yadda yadda.

Somehow, this pregnancy has felt like it has an added punch. I think part of that is twins and the extra measures docs want to take, and part is having Dorothy around to comment.

Case one: I got steroid shots in my bum. There, I wrote it online. That alone is a little degrading. I haven't gotten bum shots since infancy. There's nothing in the world quite like mooning a nurse so you can get a shot. Oh, the indignity. For one round, Dorothy came with me. She held my hand and watched the whole thing. After we got out into the hall, she looked at me with wide, terrified eyes and said (loud enough for anyone in the hallway to hear, mind you),
"Mommy! The doctor put a BIG POKEY in your BUM!!!!"
Yes Dorothy, I know.
"And Mommy, then they put a Bandy (translation, band-aid) on your bum. You have a BANDY on your BUM Mommy!"
Thank you dear, I know. Believe me, I know.
We had a discussion about how it's okay to get shots, how this one was for the baby sisters. Luckily, by the time we got to the elevator, I saw my friend there and started talking to her. That was nice because I wasn't sure if I wanted to talk about unusual shot locations in a crowded elevator full of strangers. I'd much rather post the story on the internet. : ) Hopefully this experience hasn't entirely given her the idea that doctors are heartless people who run around poking others and putting band-aids on unusual places. Though, she did play doctor with her dolls, and they all got shots in their bums.
I'm just hoping, if this comes out in nursery or on the playground, that when people hear that Dorothy's mommy has a "bandy" on her bum, they'll think it's some rad tattoo or something much cooler or at least more mysterious than the truth.

Case two: I'm to the point in my pregnancy where I just don't care anymore. At the start I was decently cautious and didn't eat too much junk. Now, I'm just so uncomfortable and grumpy and insatiably hungry that all I want to do is eat my feelings, dammit. Plus, I'm not gaining very much weight, so really it's medically necessary, right? Right? Be warned, don't mess with me right now. So, one night, Dallin received that wonderful, stereotypical treatment of expectant dads and got sent to the store for ice cream. He took Dorothy with him. She thought this was the coolest thing ever, going to the store JUST to get ice cream.
The next day on the playground, I noticed her having a conversation with my friend Kelly. When I saw said her later, here's what she said (with a great smirk on her face).
"So, Daddy went to the store last night because Mommy had to have ice cream, huh?"
Busted. I don't think you can get away with much of anything when there's a chatty two year old around.


"NO camera Mommy!" Dorothy all ready to go out in the outfit she picked all by herself. She knows what she wants.


Also, look what I can do! Definitely one of the benefits of a big belly, bowls balance perfectly. Actually, that's a great shot because it's not even ice cream. I don't remember, but I think it's granola and yogurt. I think this was pre-I-stopped-caring-and-just-want-to-eat-everything-in-sight stage.