How I know it's Monday

Remember the episode of "Seinfeld" where George steps on a pigeon and gets angry, saying humans have a contract with birds that the birds fly away so they don't get stepped on? I had always assumed that contract included birds flying away so they didn't get driven over.

Driving to work this morning, I was on a shady back road when I suddenly spotted a bird right in front of my car. When it didn't immediately fly off, I tried to put it between my tires. I'm not certain I hit it, but the muffled bump and the feathers swirling around the road when I looked in my rear view mirror lead me to believe I did.

The worst part is, I kept hearing a cheeping noise as I drove to work and was convinced the (slow-moving, suicidal) bird was stuck in my grill. It turns out it wasn't but I'm still angry with that bird for not holding up its end of the contract and ruining my Monday morning.

Sure, and maybe we can get my high school English teacher in there to hold my other leg...

Yesterday, the Pretend Husband came home and told me his mother is insistent that she be in the delivery room when the baby is born. I think I stopped breathing until he explained that, after the Pretend Mother-in-Law kept talking about it, he questioned her until she clarified that by "delivery room," she actually meant "hospital waiting room." I mean, I can't guarantee that she won't be sitting in there for a good 10 or 12 hours if she insists on going to the hospital when we do, but I will take that option over having extra people in the actual delivery room staring at my hoo-hah anyday.

For some reason, the PH brings home a comedy every single time he rents a movie these days...

Remember when our family dog (well, she was until kat's lil sis stole her), Callie died? And I said I couldn't stop crying after lil sis called me at work to tell me? I wasn't kidding. I could not stop crying.

I cried for at least 30 minutes, including everything from quiet tears dripping onto my shirt to huge sobs. I went through the rest of the box of tissues on my desk and had to resort to using paper towels to soak up the tears (and I don't even want to admit to how many paper towels I used). I cried until I was dehydrated. I thought I was done crying and started doing some work, but had to stop because I couldn't see the computer screen through my tears.

I cried until I finally started laughing because I honestly didn't know how to stop crying. I thought I might not be able to stop until the baby was born. So, yeah, those hormones are nothing to be messed with if I, who rarely shows emotion, can't stop weeping. I think the Pretend Husband is a little scared by them. I have a feeling if the car died, our house went into foreclosure and he lost his job, he still wouldn't tell me out of fear of starting the waterworks no one knows how to turn off.

We'll add this to the list of things NOT to say to a pregnant woman

From a coworker this morning:

"How far along are you? 18 weeks? You look at least six months pregnant! Your belly definitely grew over the weekend!"

Oh my God, it's twins!

At least I have an explanation for my huge appearance in that last photo, but I'm still kind of freaking out about how we're going to handle this one.

We went to the doctor this morning and she found a second heartbeat. There was some explanation about how they could have missed it the first two times we heard the heartbeat, but I'm kind of in shock and can't remember what it is.

We have an ultrasound scheduled next week to confirm it, but the doctor is 99 percent certain there are two big-headed kids in there. The Pretend Husband keeps talking about how much more expensive it's going to be to get double the baby stuff, double the clothing as they grow and double the college tuition, but all I can think about it when I'm ever going to sleep again with two babies needing to eat, be changed, etc.

Oh, and one more thing.....

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April Fools. (Apparently, I am just that huge with only one kid in there)