Last week

Like every blogger I will now lament how I have no time for blogging as I am so busy. I'll try to sum up the last week. 

We are currently almost 23 weeks pregnant. Last week I was noticing that Wife has been perpetually cranky and uncomfortable and in general acting like most women I know in their 9th month.  This by itself is enough to strike fear in my heart. We're only a little more than halfway there!! But I was also noticing that she's starting to LOOK almost 9 months pregnant! And it prompted me to measure her belly. It's been about a month since our last OB visit so she's dropped quite a bit since then.

Survey says: 34cm which equals 34 weeks! Holy smokes!! No wonder she feels uncomfortable she's basically 7.5-8months pregnant in size!  

I'm so screwed..

Last week I was also able to sneak Wife into work and get a few more pics. Mainly we measure heads and bellies to make sure everyone is growing at the same speed and they are looking good!!

I've been spending a few minutes here and there working on the nursery. It looks so freaking AWESOME!! If I do say so myself!  

Here is the progress so far:

It's a really cool room. I know. 

Yes we have picked out baby names. We've actually had them picked out for some time. But, like everything else I want to wait and Wife wants to tell the world. 

I'm just used to finding out baby names, even family names, when the baby is born, or on the birth announcement. It seems like everything else these days. Nothing is private. Everyone wants to know EVERY little detail about your private life. I've had people asking me for MONTHS already if we've picked names and I just wonder. "I don't even know you that well, why do I need to tell you right now". Also no one is ever happy with what you pick. We've told about 5 people and almost every single one of them has been like,

"Oh" crest fallen face 

To which I ponder..."were you expecting your name perhaps?"

Or "I thought you were having girls?"

To which I respond "you haven't known girls with names X &Y?" To which they respond 

"Well, ya"

So what's the problem?!

And besides THEY ARE MY FUCKING KIDS!! Don't ask if you can't even pretend to like them. I don't care if you like them, Wife doesn't care. We aren't naming them "Sparkle" or "Cinnamon" or even "Infiniti" to just list a few names of people I met last week!

I don't know. I'm sure I'm way too uptight about it but I seriously don't get people some times. I'm not going to let it bother me because let's be honest. Our kids are going to have two moms, no dads, and they are going to go to school in a tutu and a hard hat if they want to. If I want to name my boy Sue and my girl Peter people are just going to have to get in line to give me shit about it. 

Seriously though. We picked the best names ever. 

We have been joking that our slowly aging dog have been preparing us for the incoming twins.

We have two small boy dogs, one is a 14 1/2 Shih Tsu and is in reasonably good health. However, he requires a very special diet to prevent formation of kidney stones. He also has GERD or something similar and is prone to random vomiting attacks. Imagine, blissfully sleeping in your bed when from the depths of the blankets you hear an erking noise. ::erk::erk::: Your pregnant wife whips back the covers and grabs the small furry, retching monster and holding him against her chest, sits up. Or tries to. She is now beached on the bed like a turtle on its shell with a heaving dog on her chest. After several attempts, involving all eight limbs waving frantically, she finally managed to get up and thrust him in the bathtub before he vomits. Repeat this any time, day or night. So we try to give him Pepcid a few times a week and this seems to help. He also has allergies and we often find him chewing on his feet, so he also gets Benadryl.  He's also a crier. He will start screaming, crying, howling, what-have-you, for no apparent reason at any given time; even the middle of the night, while snuggled up to my ear!

Our other guy is a 13 1/2  PomChi and has quite a few issues. He's got COPD and CHF (basically old man asthma and heart failure). For this he gets to take 3-5 meds 2-3 times a day depending on how he's feeling. He gets up, on average, 3 times a night. Either because he has to get up to pee, needs water, or wakes himself up coughing.  He now has stress incontinence from coughing and has to wear a diaper at night to keep him from wetting the bed. Nothing like waking up and realize you are laying in a puddle of pee, and it's not yours!  We've also learned we have to close the bedroom door if he's going to wear the diaper. Or else, he runs out the dog door and tries to pee on every bush he can find.... And thoroughly fills his diaper!

All this also involves coaxing a couple of very stubborn old dogs into taking pills 1-4 times a day. And let me tell you it is no fun!  We were just putting them in the PomChi's food bowl for a while. He always eats like it's his last meal so he usually scarfs it down... This worked for about a year. Recently he started spitting the pills out in his bowl, on the floor, or even UNDER his placemat!! Now he has even gotten to the point where he won't even eat all his kibble and leaves a few pieces mixed in with the pills!  He won't eat cheese anymore because we were using that to give him the pills. We can't get him to eat lunch meat anymore, or ketchup!  

The latest attempt to get him to take his pills involved making homemade dog treats. We subscribe to a subscription service, BarkBox (https://barkbox.com/r/VEBCT3QBKQ) They sent us a treat mix so I tried it! It made 1 tsp sized meatballs for the small dogs and they LOVED them. 

Which brings us to the next "training-for-babies" adventure. It's 4am, PomChi wakes us up coughing. I decide he needs an extra lasix pill.  The two of us go to the kitchen and I stuff one in a meatball and give it to him and start walking to the bathroom. (I've learned to pee while I can, multitasking ftw!). As I make my way about halfway across the house I hear a coughgagsnort noise that I have never hear Mr. PomChi make before and go running back into the kitchen. He is standing in the middle of the kitchen sort of retching but making no noise and looking terrified. I run across the kitchen and briefly think "can you Heimlich a dog?" As I wrap my hands around his belly and forcefully and quickly squeeze. "Tthhbbbt" says one end and out pops a complete slobbery meatball from the other! "Omg I just squeezed my dog till he farted!" I tuck this away as I comfort my dog and make sure he's ok. He proceeds to pay down, spread-eagle in his "trying to hold on to the world" position for the next 20 minutes. No amount of pets or cooing could make him budge. "NO MORE MEATBALLS FOR THE DOGS!!" I yell across the house.  Once it was clear he was fine I started giggling.

 "What?" Wife wanted to know. 

 "I squeezed him till he farted!"

More giggling. And I start thinking. Hmm you know how your not supposed to give peanuts and hotdogs and other round things to young toddlers or they... Choke... Ya   Meatballs should be on that list too!  

More prepping us for babies...