Craving of the day: Pickles

Today's craving was pickles.
Actually it was yesterday's, too.
Pregnant women and pickles. How freaking cliche. I don't want ice cream with it though. That will make me puke.

My doctor mentioned pickles might be good for my all-day nausea. I ate one and now every time I have a turkey sandwich for lunch, which is everyday because that's all I really can keep down for lunch, I want a pickle.

Ba-Tampte half sours are my favorite.

My hot new accessory: Sea Bands

I've never been a cutter and I don't play guitar nor am I super emo hipster cool, but this new accessory may be the hottest thing I'm wearing.

Why?

Because they are supposed to help me not throw up.

Sea Bands, found at almost any drugstore, helps with sea sickness, but also supposedly helps with morning sickness by these two little pressure point balls that jab into your wrist. It doesn't hurt.

I've been rockin' them for two days now and only dry heaved 5 times.

I wish they came in other colors besides pale blue. Maybe if they continue to work I can embroider something cool on them.

Ginger ale & Puttanesca sauce makes for a bad day

I spilled ginger ale all over my crotch today. I was sitting at work, sipping a cup of ginger ale trying to feel less nauseous, and I moved my hand and spilled it straight into my vagina. I swear I could feel the fizzies in my unmentionables. I did my best to soak it up, but there wasn't much I could do -- I had about two hours left before my work day was done.

Ginger ale dries really sticky by the way.

I got home, took a quick shower, and put on PJs. But first I had a massive dose of dry heaving. Major watery mouth. I knew I needed to eat...soon. My hubs usually cooks for me, but tonight he was at the studio working late, so I made pasta with this Puttanesca sauce he bought from the organic market that looked really good in the jar.

I almost can't write about it without wanting to dry heave, but there were these green olives in it that were so disgusting. I picked them out and ate my dish, but right now it's just sitting there, like a lump in my tummy. I don't even think the babies like it.

In case you couldn't tell, I'm seriously cranky. I hate the taste in my mouth and I can't wait until 20 minutes from now when my tummy won't be so hurty.

For my shower...

I love all things Day of the Dead or Dia de los Muertos. It's a day to honor those who have passed and it also happens to be my birthday. Sounds morbid, but it's really quite lovely.

My husband has a Dia de los Muertos lady on his arm and we also had a bride and groom Day of the Dead cake topper for our wedding, with a cake that featured fondant shaped with Mexican celebratory flags.

So for my baby shower, which won't happen for months, I really need to have this banner.

You can custom order from Ay Mujer! on Etsy.

What's with the Debbie Downers?

I know pregnancy and having babies isn't like a bouquet of fresh flowers, all perfect and pretty and glamorous and all that crap. I'm 36 years old, 9 weeks pregnant, and know enough to know at least that.

But come on people, what is with those of you who have negative things to say about having babies, especially when I tell people I'm having twins.

Most recently, from my cousin, I got one is fun, two is work.

So does that mean having two isn't fun and one isn't work? Come on now.

These Debbie Downer comments are coming from people who have kids already. Those I've told who aren't parents yet practically squeal with excitement.

But I will say this...my friend who has triplets had the greatest things to say. She said how having multiples is the best -- you're done in one shot, insta-siblings, and they play together. Thanks for the positivity, Colleen! I really appreciate it. I've also had some other mommy friends show excitement, so it isn't all.

For all you others, poo poo on you.

First comes love...

First came love. Then came marriage. Next will come twins in a baby carriage.

Today is my wedding anniversary! One year -- which they say is the hardest. For Hans and I, it was the best. Corny, cheesy, lovey dovey -- all of that.

Unfortunately, I spent most of my anniversary in bed and not as I would have preferred (which is naked with my hubs). I had nausea all morning and a wicked case of the bathrooms. I don't need to explain that further...I hope.

When I was finally feeling better, around 5pm, we took a walk to the park, checked out all the latest toys and bikes the kids were playing with, talked about how we want to parent, and then went out for some Italian ices.

Hans is making me my most craved food right now -- soft shell tacos with beans and rice. Oh and we had a bite of our wedding cake that had been frozen and vacuum sealed for the past year. Just a bite, for luck, and since I am superstitious. It was actually really good. So I had one more bite, for the twins.

Hans just told me it was the best anniversary he could have asked for. And tears welled up in my eyes.

Damn, I'm lucky.

Pregnant women should not watch Benjamin Button

I finally got to watch Benjamin Button last night (Netflix) and let me first say it was a long movie. I think I had to pause it at least three times to get up to pee.

I had some tears in my eyes throughout the movie, but they seriously started welling up when Daisy (played by Cate Blanchett who is flawless and beyond gorgeous) is pregnant and her and Benjamin (Brad Pitt) start talking about what's going to happen as he gets younger.

Warning, spoiler alert.

Then she falls down the stairs and there's blood everywhere. I thought she would lose the baby, but she doesn't, and a little girl is born and she's perfect. A couple of years go by and Benjamin realizes he has to leave so Daisy doesn't have to raise two children. I was kind of pissed at Benjamin for leaving.

He returns as a teenager, he sees their daughter Caroline, also a teen, sees her new husband, sees she is happy. Then they have sex! Total mixed weird feelings on this. Total mind fuck.

Cut to years later, and Daisy is old, returns to the nursing home where Benjamin grew up and there he is, aging in reverse, forgetting how to talk, forgetting how to walk, and she reads to him from the same children's book her grandmother read to them when they first met.

I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe. You know the type of crying that happens when you are watching a movie and you don't want the other person to know how emotional you are about it? Yeah. I mean, I have no problem showing emotion in front of my husband (more stories on that later), but it was just this uncontrollable, full-on, like someone I loved died kind of cry. The kind of cry that made me want to actually make crying noises. And I did.

Benjamin died in Daisy's arms after he gave her one last look -- a look that she knew he knew who she was before he passed.

I cried through the credits. Hard.

So hard I asked my hubs to leave the room so I can let it out without someone looking at me.

I got the crying under control and then we start talking. It's our anniversary in two days and my husband says something like, It's a year on Monday!

Crap! Knot in throat, full on tears all over again.

I did love the movie, filmed in New Orleans, where I got married! But damn, I could cry right now just thinking about it.

Craving of the day: turkey sandwich

Today's craving was a turkey sandwich.
Turkey. American cheese. Just a touch of lettuce on a roll with Italian dressing. I also got a pickle though it wasn't a half sour so I didn't eat it all.

Outcome: So far so good. I don't feel ultra full, but I feel satisfied. Well, we feel satisfied.

Am hoping it settles better than yesterday's lunch of a burrito. I didn't make it through dinner by the way. As soon as I was finished with my meal, I had to run to the restaurant's bathroom. Thank the lord no one was in there.

I cleaned up as best I could. Note: Pasta with asparagus in garlic and oil sauce comes up tasting just like it did going down.

Tattoo mommy does not equal tattoo baby

Years and years and years ago, while waitressing back when I was in college, a man asked me if I knew my kids were going to be born with tattoos as I took his early bird special order.

It was an Italian restaurant, a family joint, called Coppola's not owned by Francis Ford, Sofia, or any of that clan.

Nick, the owner, who was a nice guy, made us wear black pants and a white long-sleeve buttom up shirt with a tie. Even the ladies. Well, only the ladies since he only had girls working there. He was a nice guy, like I said, but I don't mean nice in a weird creepy way and get your mind out of the gutter.

Anyway, a hint of my wrist tattoo would show when I served food. The early bird man saw it and made that comment. Something like: Hey, you know...uh...I see your tattoo. You know, now your kids will be born with tattoos.

Ugh. Really, Mister?

What I really said was Oh...wow. With a smile of course.

Horrible comeback, but I wanted a tip!

So today, it happened again. This specialist I was seeing made the joke, too. Only this time I thought How cool would that be? Especially if they look exactly alike. I would be able to tell them apart if they had different tattoos.

Craving of the day: burrito

Today's craving was a burrito.
Veggie. Kidney beans instead of black in honor of the two babies in my womb the size of kidney beans. Sour cream, guacamole, rice, cheese.

Outcome: I feel like I added five more babies to the two already in there. Terrible nausea about a half hour after eating. So afraid it will come back up. Burrito puke won't be pretty. Not that any puke is, but burrito seems especially gross.

It's now 3 hours and 21 minutes after I ate burrito. Am getting hunger pangs, but feel burrito still in throat wanting to come out the wrong way.

Am supposed to have dinner with friends tonight at nice restaurant...that has single file bathrooms. What if I have to puke and both bathrooms are occupied?

Putting a Yummy Earth Organic Ginger Zest Candy Drop in my mouth. They are supposed to help with nausea. Hoping for the best.

Morning sickness sucks

It's not just in the morning, people! Nausea all frickin' day long.

Here is my typical day:

-Wake up before alarm clock at 7:30am starving. (Used to press snooze 7 times before getting knocked up.)
-Make toast or a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. Eat while watching NY1.
-Try to read what my stomach is saying. Are we going to puke or can I take a shower?
-Shower, showered with dry heaves.
-Brushing teeth is the worst. Gag. Heave. Brush. Gag. Brush. Bleh!
-Lay on bed because I start sweating.
-Finish getting ready.
-Shaky hands, hard to put on liquid eyeliner.
-Head to the subway hoping I don't start dry heaving on train and people think I have Swine Flu.
-Get to work, starving.
-Only want to drink Honest Ade Orange Mango juice.
-Dry heave in bathroom hoping co-workers don't catch me.
-Bury myself in work, trying to ignore nausea.
-Lunch. Gross. I'm famished but everything sounds disgusting. Eat a burrito or turkey sandwich.
-Finish out the day.
-Repeat subway prayers from earlier.
-Get home starving.
-Dinner.
-Puke for real.
-Go to bed feeling really full but really hungry.
-Wake up having to pee and with a dry throat at least twice during night.

Still, I am so happy to be pregnant.

Photo from The Setting Maul

I'm pregnant...just ask my boobs!

The news to beat all news has happened. I am now a 34C. And all I had to do to go up a cup size is get pregnant.

Wait. I'm having a baby! No. I am having two babies! Twins! Holy crap!

I've always been excited to be a mom...but wasn't ready for a long, long, long time. So long, that at 36 years old, I'm going to be considered an older mom in some circles. That's hilarious to me, but I do live in NYC and lots of us "old ladies" wait to pop out some kiddies.

I'm having fun with the fullness of my tee-tas right now and my barely visible (unless you see me naked or I'm wearing a super tight shirt) belly. I know (sometime soon) that even though the boobs will continue to grow, the belly will overtake them. Essentially making them null. Rats.

My hubs and I saw the heartbeats today...pitter pattering away. One of them even moved slightly when the sonogram wand went by the little kidney bean sized body. I had tears in my eyes.

I'm only 8 weeks along, so the babies still have little tails. How cool would it be if they kept the tails? OK...not so cool. But maybe? A little? Maybe I liked that book Geek Love by Katherine Dunn a little too much.

Wish me luck on my pregnancy journey! Share tips -- I sure need them!