Blessing in Disguise

The first time I noticed it was about a year and a half ago.  I was at a house party and suffering from one of the many plagues that infected our family in the first six months of daycare (at this particular time I believe it was pre-diagnosed strep throat).

Chris and I were attempting to maintain some semblance of a life by going to a house party: all I wanted to do was pour a pot of boiling hot water mixed with Purell down my throat in hopes that it would "kill everything evil" that was crapping down my throat and all over my life, but we went out anyway.   Since I was feeling terrible and possibly contagious I opted for wallflower status as I politely made small talk from a distance and counted down the seconds until I could be home in bed.  I believe Chris was downstairs playing beer pong, he somehow managed to escape Step Throat Fall 2012 unscathed, jerk.

As I walked around the party, I noticed a pocket of party goers in the living room: all pregnant.  They sat in a circle, drinking herbal tea, rubbing their bellies in that way that only pregnant women can and talking about EVERYTHING gestation centric.  I watched from a distance and anthropologically observed like I was writing  a paper on  female bonding among pregnant women in their early thirties.

Since I was the first person in my group of Toronto friends to have kids and was carrying twins, I often considered myself a bit of a pregnancy unicorn.  Friends who "weren't there yet" in terms of child-rearing would sheepishly ask if they could touch my belly, while they celebrated their freedoms, toasting mixed drinks as I drank Sprite and orange juice and watched my ankles swell.  The nearest age of any child in my closer circle of Toronto friends is a year and a half younger than Molly and Jack, which meant that no one was pregnant at the same time as me, not even close.

This is a photo of me when I was 6 months pregnant with the twins...I know what you are thinking and the answer is yes, I always dressed that fancy.

My friend KJ, lives in the suburbs and has twin boys who are a year older than Molly and Jack.   I would call her up every time I had a panic attack to find out whether or not the insanity my body was facing was just a normal part of twin pregnancy or if I needed to haul a$$ to my doctor; but these were whispered calls during nap or Google chats, while she tried to navigate the early days of twin parenthood.  I guess what I'm saying is there was no communal tea sipping or belly rubbing involved - it was all panic based reactive situations where she had to talk me down from the ledge.   That being said I was enthralled with this grouping of gestating women.  Since I didn't join any mom groups, multiple or otherwise, until post-pregnancy their was no blessing* of mothers to commiserate with.

A year later I was at another party, with a different group of friends and a similar circle of mama bears formed in the living room, drinking herbal tea and lovingly rubbing their bellies.  I watched for a few minutes before I went and played figurative beer pong (drank copious amounts of rum punch).

Sometimes I lament on how I missed out on this nesting right of motherhood among my peers, that I somehow was robbed of this right of passage.

A few weeks ago I was at a birthday party for my friend's one year old and a grouping of parents (some friends, some acquaintances) stood in a basement supervising their children while they attempted to scarf down their own lunch, all while simultaneously feeding their offspring and quashing any toddler/child related hi jinx and shenanigans.

Someone I knew a long time ago once described your wedding party as a snapshot in time...I guess the same can be said about these random celebrations** of pregnant women.  In the end, one day, we'll all be in a basement, scrubbing orange sauce off the floor while my son acts like I've stabbed him in the heart because I made the fatal mistake of cutting a meatball in half so he wouldn't choke on it.

To all you pregnant ladies, sipping your tea and rubbing your bellies, enjoy this warm decaffeinated moment, even though I know your feet hurt. Savour it because it's probably one of the last hot beverages you're going to enjoy at its intended temperature.  I'll see you in the basement in a few months, I'm the one covered in red sauce trying to put a meatball back together.

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*Name for a grouping of unicorns.
**Did you know that a grouping of polar bears is called a celebration?  Me neither.

You Live, You Learn

Blight and plague has settled upon our household for November.  In dealing with illness, particularly my own and Jack's, and trying to maintain some semblance of normality for Molly and Chris I have learned the following things this past week:

1. Strep throat feels and smells like two hobos are fighting each other, on a humid day, using broken glass shanks from malt liquor bottles that they have drank and then urinated in - IN THE BACK OF YOUR THROAT!
2. The only thing worse than getting a throat swab when you have Strep Throat is having to fight your 15 month old into submission, while you have Strep Throat, so your nurse practitioner can get a throat swab from him.*
3. When you get liquid strawberry penicillin for your infant and the pharmacist says, "I made up some extra so you may have to throw it out when you've finished the ten days." what he really means is, "Your child is going to spit this in your face with a venom that parallels puritanical treatment of those who were accused of witch craft and you'll probably need some extra."  
4. Strep Throat if untreated can turn into Scarlet Fever and needs to be treated seriously, especially in infants...as one of our sitters L aptly put it when I was panicking, "Don't worry Sara, It's not like in Little Women, Jack is not Beth.  There are antibiotics he can take."

Beyond illness I have also learned the following:

1. Our children have become dumber...When I was a child I had idiot mittens to prevent me from loosing them, essentially a string that connected my mittens through my jacket arms.  We are not permitted to provide these types of mittens - in case our children manage to hang themselves on the idiot mitten strings...we need to provide clips instead.  My daughter now has Supreme Idiot Mittens.**  I also need to get them both weird Dickie's (mock turtlenecks to use instead of scarves) or some alternative to avoid their imminent hangings***.  A few years ago my father-in-law hurt his neck and upon recovery decided that his brace was a warm alternative to a scarf and kept wearing it because it was "cosy" - maybe we could borrow the neck brace now that he's wintering in Florida.
2. The highlight of my week was going grocery shopping last night while we waited for Jack's prescription.  The joy I experienced at the ability to have both children sitting in the same cart with two independent seat belts is infinite...Thank you Fresh Co.

The minions doing some grocery shopping!

*While we were pinning Jack down someone from the front of the medical building called, likely to ask, "Why are you trying to kill that baby?"
**Patent pending.
***If anyone has any suggestions where to get these for cheap please let me know.