Fevers; Embarrassing Milestones; Cervix Checks*

**Updated**

Apparently a 104 fever doesn’t slow a toddler down. My niece came over today, and while her fever is gone, you would think that she would still be lethargic and cuddly and calm, recovering from the fever that broke mere hours ago. No such luck. I Tivo’d about 10 episodes of Dora and she has blown through most of them already (once you weed out commercials and such, it really boils down to 15 minutes of a screaming camel-toed exploradora and her crazy monkey pet and their assorted freak friends like that spaced-out cow and the grumpy old troll who lives under the bridge). Meanwhile, Skye asks approximately 15 times a minute “Ots ah?” or, translated, “what’s that?” She runs around the apartment at top speed, now that her socks are off (socks serve as a veritbal speed bump for kids; must remember this). And she finds the most mundane things fascinating: To wit: She spent five minutes playing fuzz she found on the couch. Fuzz. Five minutes.

Can I also register a complaint about how spoiled kids are these days when it comes to TV? I’m going to sound old here, but kids these days live in this world of on-demand television. Plus they get to experience the wonders of Tivo, so they can watch whatever they want whenever they want. Skye just freaked out when the commercials came on because—gasp!—we were watching live TV. Skye doesn’t do commercials and never has in her little life. She is used to non-stop entertainment. For me, growing up, cable was just coming into people’s homes (with not so much in the way of kid’s shows anyway) and VCRs were just making their debut. And we had to get up to change the channel! How cantankerous do I sound?

I could just turn off the TV but 1.) I am exhausted after another fitful’s night sleep and don’t have the energy to entertain someone with an attention span of five seocnds and 2.) it is snowing ever so slightly here in NYC so a trip to the playground or anywhere really is out of the question and 3.) maybe what I am deeming allergies is actually a cold, because I just feel so blah.

Here is a glimpse into my adult life. This snippet of conversation is from last night, as we sprawled out on the couch, watching the American Idol results show (yes, I like this show; Nicole can take it or leave it):

Me: Do you realize that we might have these babies before we find out who the next American idol is?
Nicole: Can we please not use things like that as a milestone? It’s embarrassing.

This, coming from the woman who has a Tivo list with such gems as Frankenfish, a sci-fi thriller about a group of genetically engineered snakeheads that are attacking and eating humans. I just had to make that point. People in glass houses and all...

I have my doctor’s appointment this afternoon for a cervix check and questions-and-answers (On tap this week: Is that tightnening I am feeling Braxton Hicks?). I was talking to my friend Annie last night and telling her about today, she offered to come into the city and help me with Skye so I could have a stress-free appointment. Now that is a true friend. Truth is, I was dreading it, fearing that Skye would freak out as I lay on a table being wanded. But having Annie there makes everything much, much easier. Everyone needs an Annie.

Pictured above is me at 29 weeks, in oh-so-not-flattering striped pajamas again because I keep forgetting to take a picture in the daytime when I am clothed. If you look closely, you can see my popped belly button and my perpendicular hair. As I have been saying for, what, three months now, I need to get a haircut.

** Update: The appointment was fine. Baby A decided she didn’t want to be head down after all and returned to her breech position, which means Nicole has been talking to her feet these past two weeks. Baby B is curled in some sort of transverse/breech/s-shape or something. It’s like baby Jenga or origami. How they fit in there, I have no idea. And please explain to me how a three-pound baby moves 180 degrees and I don’t feel anything beyond little thumps?

I asked about the Braxton Hicks but my doctor said as long as I don’t feel any pain, she is (all together, now) “Not going to worry about that.” Seriously, nothing seems to alarm my doctor. Nothing.

My cervix continues to be a superstar and is measuring 3.4mm. The measurement last week with the fancy u/s was 3.9mm. My doctor said her machine is probably about .5 mm off so it is still holding strong in the mid- to high-three range. I’m proud of my cervix.

Finally, I accidentally opened my eyes too soon at the weigh in. Wow, That’s all I have to say. Well, that and I will gladly add as much weight to my frame as needed to make two chunky, healthy, happy babies.