The Scarlet Letter

Now I know what Hester Prynne felt like. Kind of. While I don't have a big Scarlet letter A, I do have something else that puts me into a grouping. Something obvious that attracts attention. It says, "This woman is pregnant. This woman has done something to become pregnant. This woman is married. This is a woman."

Is it OK that I still kind of feel like a kid? That I'm plugging away through my 30's, and am a little incredulous that I'm even old enough to have kids? It's insane for me to think about the overwhelming responsibility of caring for the peanuts for the rest of my life.

I keep thinking that I'm becoming one of those people--the people I see battling their screaming kids in stores, or trying to stop their kids from throwing cheerios on restaurant floors and banging sippy cups on high chairs. Or one of those people that forces other people into listening to countless stories about how cute junior is and what junior eats and throws up, and let me show you another 100 pictures and videos on youtube. Or I'm becoming one of those friends that sinks into the oblivion of motherhood, and no longer has time to hang out with friends, or drink lots of glasses of wine, or go on trips on a whim. I will become the one that invites people over, and spends the evening fawning over my kids, trying to put them in bed, revolve, revolve world around these things....

I sound cynical. Or like I don't want to be a mom. And that's not true. I also sound like I don't like that my friends all became moms. And that's also not true. I think it's just the hardest for me to imagine how my life will change, what those peanuts are going to be like, if I'm going to be a PTA mom or a "cool" mom or a strict mom or an impatient mom.

It seems a sink or swim situation, and no amount of preparing can actually prepare you for what's to come. You just have to take it as it comes, learn from it, adapt. But in the meantime, it's anxious waiting to find out what kind of person you're going to be. It's like being in 2nd grade all over again, and writing an essay on "when I grow up...." and then finding out 20 odd years later that I'm not actually a store clerk. That I live in Seattle, WA. That I'm 32 years old. That I'm married, work for a huge company, and am about to have twin girls..........

Alas, enough about that. What have we been up to in our new city? Well, we finally moved out of Abobo (that's the affectionate name for corp housing), and moved into Extended Stay America last Thursday. One word: wow. More like, Extended Chiropractic Visits. Or, Extended Foot Fungus. Or, Extended Time to Not Sit in the Nasty Chair in order not to catch something. or Extended amounts of time stale cigarette smoke can hang in the air.

It was disgusting. Picture the seediest motel room from some Tarantino flick, and that could be our hotel. It lasted a long 5 nights, and we just moved in with friends Carrie and Paul.

But not before we had dinner with other friends Saturday night--in a cute dog-friendly pub/eatery in Fremont called Norm's. Two couples we knew in North Carolina--it was such a fun and comfortable environment, and really great to be around familiar, old-school friends. Even greater to find out that Grace was also pregnant, and due in March. Should be super fun, although they're moving next June.

We also went mattress shopping (hooray, Labor Day!), and invested for the first time in our very own mattress. Can't wait to have it delivered (4 days after we move into the new house). And speaking of the new house, we went for a visit on Monday. Rosemary (the seller) is super fantastic, and it was a great visit. We are both so excited and anxious to move in. The house is going to be absolutely perfect for us, and things happened as they were supposed to. She gave me the tour of the gardens--I hope I don't mess those incredible plants up--but hopefully I'll learn.

We're set to move in on September 25 officially--so just about 2 weeks / 2 days! Hooray! It can't come soon enough.

Until then, Ian played a great house husband and made us a delicious Mexican feast from scratch last night. It was awesome coming home from work, and having such a great meal on the dinner table. We'll see what he cooks up next...

And our 3rd wedding anniversary is tomorrow! Crazy, no? It seems like so long ago. To celebrate, we're heaving to Vancouver Island Friday-Sunday, staying in Victoria. We get there by the Seattle Clipper--kind of like a big speedboat, but just under a 3-hour trip. Should be a great get-away.

Okie dokie, that's all for now!

if I wrote everyday....

You might hear a different story about my pregnant life. I meant to write on Thursday, and I planned the beginning. I've forgotten it now, but it was going to be something about how I named myself the White Whale for the day. It's weird even now to see the fluctuations between a huge tummy, a pretty big tummy, a tiny slit of a belly button, then a rounder one, tummy slighty squishy, tummy so hard it might knock someone out. And while there is now no mistaking whatsoever that I'm pregnant, it's funny it would vary so much by day, and by outfit. It's starting to get harder to put on shoes, or sometimes get up from really slouchy couches. And the girls are kicking and moving pretty much all the time. Ian hasn't been able to feel them yet, but I sure do.

We had our first Seattle ultrasound this past week, and for the most part, all is well. They're sharing their fluids nicely, I'm still holding up well. One unhappy piece of news, which is that apparently Twin A has a calcium deposit on her heart. It's a common indicator of down's syndrome.

Now, here's where you have to take things with a grain of salt. Of course whenever you hear something like that, it's worrisome--and often creeps back into your mind from time to time (especially that day). But the truth is that we've already done the testing--we're something like 1 in 33,000th chance. It would also be strange for A to have it, and not B (at least I think so, since they're identical), and there aren't other indicators at this point.

The doctors didn't seem very worried, either. So it's one of those things that taint the overall visit a tiny bit, but that we can't really sit and worry about. Because what can we do about it, anyway? And an indicator doesn't mean it's positive. So alas, overall the girls are fine. Calcium deposits--perhaps I should switch milk brands. haha.

Things with the house are progressing as they can be. There's something new every day (welcome to the new mortgage application process!). Oh, night and day from buying our first house. And unfortunately, no one in the business currently knows what's going on, since rules and regulations change literally every day. So, it's hand one thing in today, later in the afternoon it will be something else. We've been compiling our financial history steadily now for the past 2 weeks. We really just can't wait to get in and start getting busy. So much work to be done (all cosmetic), but so exciting to make our own. Our close date is now 9/18, and we're able to move in the 21st.

Until then, we're stuck in this lovely corporate housing for another 4 days, move out Thursday into an Extended Stay America until the following Tuesday, then move in with Carrie and Paul that night until we can move into our house.

Oh, the nomadic life. It's fine. Aside from the easy proximity to work, this place is terrible. There was a raging party last night--I feel like I'm forced back into college. And we love this place and their smarts--how all the elevators are brought down for maintenance at once (and for 2 weeks)...not the most well-run place. We are constantly amazed that anyone would actually choose to live here on their own.

Next week work-wise should be fun. Seattle is definitely the hub for out-of-town visitors, and next week there will be plenty of them: at least 6. Good times. Also, Ian and I are planning our anniversary trip. I think we'll be heading up to Victoria Island, BC. It's part anniversary, part last trip before we have babies. So with even all this financial pressure lately, we think it's important to slide it in.

Today we're thinking about heading to the zoo. I love zoos, and can't wait to see the one that will be within a couple of miles from our house!!

ps--my feet are back to normal, thank goodness. It was just a NY / flying thing. whew!

And we're rolling on....

My feet are huge. I am calling them my piggies. Or, it's like someone just inflated a latex glove and tried to stuff it in my sandals or flats. They're enormous, whiter than usual, puffy, and ridiculous. I hate them.

I'm hoping it's temporary. I'm hoping that they will reduce quickly--as though someone took a pin to them and they whirled around the air aimlessly, all the while getting smaller and smaller. To the size they should be. To the size that makes them comfortable to fit into my shoes. Or at least to the size where it isn't painful.

I'm going to blame it on New York. I've been in New York City this week--since Sunday, and just returned last night. It was an inauguration of sorts to step back into the East Coast humidity. It just happened to also be 100 degrees on top of that. Holy great goodness, am I happy to be pregnant on the west coast! In cities like SF and Seattle, where humidity is unheard of, and high temperatures a bit rare to find. And if it is hot, all I need to do is walk on the shady side of the street.

I'm blaming my feet on New York, because that's when--for the first time--they blew up like this. There was a woman Ian and I used to work with, and she was pregnant a few times while we worked there. Ian and I set a certain bar against her. Remaining nameless, we call her condition, "First name X/ last name Y pregnant" which is a different type of pregnant than normal pregnancies. It means that you blow up like a balloon and it's something I wished would not happen to me. But I have First name X/last name Y feet. It's depressing.

I walked a lot in NY. And it was stuffy and hot. And then I flew back yesterday amidst multiple delays and cancellations, and ended up back in Seattle a full 8 hours after my expected arrival time. Perhaps flying didn't help either.

But today, they're still a bit swollen and painful, and look ridiculous in the sandals I wore today. Alas, enough about my feet and being pregnant. I guess the last thing I will say is that all is well in that department. I'm at 21 weeks, and recently feel like I blew up (or out, I should say).

On the subway in NY, I had someone offer up their seat for me. A young woman--how sweet! It was a first. I also made friends with the man at the Westin checking me in, when he asked and found out I was having identical twin girls--he just had twin girls 3 weeks ago. He came around the counter, digital camera in tow, to share pictures with me.

I had a huge meeting in NY that I'm so relieved is over. My past 2 months have been revolving around build up for this meeting. I was so nervous, that pit in my stomach having a hard time fighting for room with the girls. But the meeting was better than I could have asked for, and I really wished at that moment I could have a huge, celebratory alcoholic beverage. But alas, I have to wait for many more months. It's tough.

I was also spoiled in NY because I got to hang out with my good Hippo friend Kirsten on multiple nights. It was like we lived in the same place again--meeting after work for dinner or a movie (or both). It was so comfortable and fun, and at the same time felt completely natural. Sad that we're not closer, but don't you love having those friends you can fall back to and it's like no time has ever passed?

In other news, I wish Ian would write on this blog! He has been single-handedly exploring the city during the day, in between networking and working on freelance jobs. He admitted to me last night that he's in love with Seattle, and is sooo happy we moved here. He's also been spending time with his new BFF, Paul, my good friend (and boss)'s hubby. He's even out tonight with other friends, and I think Seattle will be good to him. Good to us. :)

In other news, we spent our first weekend here really diving in. Saturday morning went for brunch in Capitol Hill (it was OK, not our favorite place), and then went to the Science Fiction and Experience Music Project museum. I just had to go there because they were hosting my dream exhibit--a whole exhibition on Jim Henson!! The exhibit left a tiny bit to be desired, but can you believe I got to see a real Kermit, Rowlf, Bert & Ernie, and Gobo? Not to mention all of the sketches, original commercials, ideas coming to life...what a genius. Ian enjoyed the Jimi Hendrix exhibit, and the history of guitars...and even the Science Fiction portion was cool--we saw ET, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, and Yoda.

That night, we went to Carrie and Paul's house--her brother and his girlfriend were there, along with her best friend Annie. We ordered in Thai and then just hung out--watched a few episodes of a show, and walked up to 45th street to Molly Moon's--maker of delicious homemade ice cream and treats. You have to love a place that makes waffle cones (on a waffle machine) right before your eyes and serves them up slightly warm. Delicious. No wonder there was a line down the street. On the walk back to their place, we ran into another friend from work and her husband, who only live a few blocks away.

Sunday we had a better brunch in Capitol Hill, and then hit the open house circuit. I think we must have seen 12 or so? It was exhausting, and honestly slightly disappointing because the only thing we fell in love with was way out of our price range.

Monday was a different day. I saw a house go on the market in Wallingford (the neighborhood we love, where Carrie and Paul live). The house was actually in our price range (rare for that area), but no pictures were posted yet. Ian decided to do a drive by, and then somehow worked his way in to see the house that day--it was brand new on the market.

Next thing I knew, I was going to see it too, with our realtor, and we decided to put in an offer. Long story short--we're under contract and close on or before 9/23. Hooray! It's only a block from 45th--where the great ice cream place is--and is quiet. It has an incredible garden, and requires only cosmetic work (it has a lot of wallpaper). Super exciting news. Financing is so tricky, though, so we'll see if we pass through. It's well within the budget we created for ourselves, but with Ian freelancing, it's a bit tricky to navigate financial approval waters.

Not much else to report other than those things--we did go to a concert last Saturday in Marymoor park--interesting to see how Seattleites differ from other places / people we've been. Was a nice outdoor show with beautiful weather.

So, that's it for now. I'm going to prop up the piggies, and eat some food. Maybe it will distract me from the girls completely doing acrobatics right now.

a whole new blog?

This blog is about to change in a major way. Most of you know how this blog is changing. Ian even suggested starting a new blog, but I think we can all agree that that is a bit ambitious considering our blog-writing track record. So, let's give this a good, hearty continuation instead.

Our last months in SF (yes, this is the end of making the Mission neighborhood our Mission) were pretty amazing. I had a great birthday weekend back in May in Mendocino (yet another fascinating / beautiful area of Northern California), we went camping by the ocean, my great friends from college (the Neos) came to visit in July, Ian and I traveled to Paris and Germany with my Dad, just got back from a crazy week in Atlanta....we have been busy, busy beavers.

On top of all that, we found out back in April that I was pregnant. The first ultrasound revealed a surprise (read: shock)--we were having twins. A later ultrasound confirmed they were identical twins, and here's where I'd like to explain a bit, because most people ask me: "Do twins run in the family?"

Here's the thing that differentiates identical twins from fraternal: it isn't hereditary, it's not a result of fertility drugs. It's nature's own little oops. There's one egg, one sperm. Just like normal. Except when the fertilized egg travels down to attach itself to the uterine wall, it accidentally splits into two and they both attach. That's why identical twins also share chromosomal makeup. They are contained within the same placenta (sharing blood back and forth), but mine are in their own sacs.

Having identical twins automatically makes it a high risk pregnancy. I have to go every 2 weeks for an ultrasound to make sure they're playing nicely and sharing blood and fluid properly back and forth. I guess it was worrisome at first, but now it's a bit comforting to be so close to the process, and have those regular check-ins.

Fast forward to this week--I'm 19 weeks along. The latest ultrasound (yesterday!) was the big one, and everything looks great. We found out a couple of weeks ago that we're having girls. Wow wow.

The twins, and our thinking for almost the past year about making the move to Seattle, has found me here today. In our corporate housing, or first full day having moved to Seattle, and having left San Francisco behind.

It's a little surreal. I keep feeling like it's a normal trip to Seattle, which I take all the time. Ian and I left last night--I went into work this morning. Typical, really. But the difference might have been that Ian was with me, or that we checked in 6 bags total, and rented a car, and picked up keys, and drove to an unknown apartment complex, and unpacked our bags.

We've spent the past week or so frantically--finishing things up, coordinating the movers and packers, working, finishing work (Ian is officially not employed, and taking on mass amounts of freelance!), and living in a hotel in Union Square--like total tourists. We've been having goodbye dinners, and brunches, and a series of lasts. It's funny that SF ended for us in the area it did--on the street it did. It ended as it began.

And so here we are. The new office is great, and my manager Carrie made it extra special for me--she bought me a plant, snacks, folders, a mug---just so thoughtful and welcoming.

So begins a new chapter in our lives. The next series of adventures. In the past months, we've put offers on two houses (neither of which went through), and we're pretty motivated to find a place. We can't wait to keep exploring and finding the right home for us, and our expanding family. So comes the exploration, the house, the babies....so many things to continue to blog about.

Ian is out with Paul now (Carrie's hubby, and Ian's good friend)--they are so happy to finally be together. :) They went to Serious Pie for dinner. I am relaxing--have had a pretty exhausting few days.

Anyway, Ian has moved all our pictures into special backup places and I haven't had access to them. Once he's organized them, I'll be able to post pictures of our last few months' highlights--because there are great pictures!

Talk soon....

F.O.S.

I'm not sure why, but recently I have really been interested in French Onion Soup.

Before this new phase, The number of times I actually had F.O.S., I could probably count on one hand. It's weird how that happens.

I just had a bit from Whole Foods and I'm still enjoying my decision. It's become a default lunch for me. I pop in, fill up a cup with soup, grab a small thing of whatever bread they are pushing that day, a small serving of gruyere and an apple. I give the friendly/hip cashier 7 bucks and now I have lunch. It makes me sort of sad that I never participated in the F.O.S. thing prior. I mean, yes it smells a tad to the outside person (as in the person not eating the soup) but other than that, it's the perfect lunch.

Today, I brought it back and watched a bit of the movie Wall Street while I diced the cheese and dipped my bread. (I love that they talk about "new" technology and at one point, Charlie makes fun of this portable tv Michael Douglas shows him.)

As you might be able to tell, I'm dragging a bit today and feeling a little uninspired at work. I guess that's why this posting is about soup and not back flips or something exciting. 2:15. I have 2 hours and 45 minutes until it's time to go.

Why is this post about soup and not our amazing weekend with Micah and Marianna? Well, I don't believe I can do it justice at this moment. I'm too draggy slow. When I have more pep, that will come out. I believe I'll think about soup until then. Maybe it will make the time fly by.

Talk soon
Ian

What I Learned This Week

"They" say you learn something new every day. I haven't gotten to share this just yet, but I learned something very interesting and very new on Tuesday.

I was riding the train home, and it was packed. Such a touristy time of year. I finally managed to make my way to the back of the train, where I could lean against the wooden cabinet and stay out of the way.

Enter eavesdropping. Or more exactly, enter--people talking so loud the words on the page of my book jumbled and blurred to the point that I was staring at a page with undecipherable black markings forcing me to instead listen to said loud talkers.

The girl on the bench--heavy, loud girl--self proclaimed "I'm part black, part Creole, part American" speaking to two French guys standing in front of her bench, holding onto the rails.

She started the conversation:

"Are you from France?"
The reply--"Yes, we are."

Small back and forth about how she knew they were French.

"Where are you from?"

"All over! I live in Oakland, but I've lived ALL over Oakland." Insert multiple neighborhood names here. "And I was born in Berkeley."

More back and forth.

"Do you speak French?" one boy asked.
"Nah, but I worked in a French restaurant."
"Oh! What did you cook?"
"Crepes--the easiest thing ever. And paninis, things like that."
"Oh. Paninis are Italian."
"They are? I didn't know Paninis were from Italian."

Enter more banter about food and origins. Then asks if she knows French words. She does. It's Bonjour.

"Oh, do you also know how to say goodbye?"
"No. But my sister speaks French. We're part Creole."
"It's au revoir."
"O river." Giggles.
"Good!"

French guy returns to food conversation. "Crepes are French, paninis are Italian--what cooking is American?" he asks, adding: "Other than hamburgers."

"Well, hamburgers yes. And pizza. Oh no, pizza is from Italian. French fries---well, no, I guess they're French.

I don't know! I mean, I'm only part American. I'm also black and Creole. So, I eat Soul Food. Greens, black-eyed peas, yams. That's American.

Oh! And BBQ! That's Amercian. I eat a lot of bbq."

"BBQ is American?" he asks.

"Yeah, it's American. It dates all the way back. Indians invented bbq. When the settlers came to America in the 1800s, or the 1300s or whatever, Indians showed them how to make the bbq sauce and everything. It goes all the way back in American history."

"Oh! Wow, I had no idea," he said.

And neither did I! A little nugget of grossly inaccurate American history is what I learned on the F Tuesday evening. Of course, it did spark my curiosity enough to check out the true origins of bbq, but her story is way better.

How I Know it's Wednesday

There are 2 ways I know it's a Wednesday. One I like seeing, the other one (though utterly dependable and sometimes amusing), not so much.

1. As I leave the house, and walk up Guerrero, I pass middle school children on Wednesdays. Just a block up, on Valencia, there's a huge yellow school. It's called The Friends School. Any school with the word Friends in its name must be yellow, I think.

Anyway, I enjoy seeing these kids because it reminds me that I'm in a city and their life is different from what my life was like growing up.

These kids are in various baggy tshirts, comfy shorts of all sorts, jogging pants. Girls' hair are pulled back in loose, messy ponytails. They're running around the blocks in groups of 2-3, then the stragglers by themselves, breath jagged, faces flushed. Or the occasional kid who's way behind, arms flailing, face so bright red it looks like a tomato ready to burst.

I love seeing them running. I like seeing the tall, stick thin kids in the front. I recognize myself in the middle of the pack, hating running but not wanting to be the last.

So different, running around city blocks during gym class and up and down the hills of San Francisco, exposed to the world of pedestrians, bicyclists, people gazing out their windows, dog walkers, and drivers. How vulnerable, compared to my upbringing of circling the Brookville track over and over and over again while staring at a stark landscape and chainlink fences. Coming up on the concession stand every loop around the neverending track which drew enormous lines during Friday night football games, but during the day was a sad, concrete maroon and gold closed box.

Anyway, I like seeing them and it makes me smile.

2. Get on the F like normal. But what's different is that I have to be very careful about where I sit. I head straight to the very back, which is being a little proactive, a little defensive.

Because what I know is that halfway down Market Street, we're going to stop in front of the Civic Center. And on Wednesdays, that means the Asian Farmer's Market is in full swing.

I don't know why this particular farmer's market is considered Asian. Maybe the vegetables you can get at the market lend themselves well to soba noodles, stir fry, and general tsao. But I do know that the stop is packed with swarming old Asian ladies and men carrying loads of plastic bags filled with all sorts of farmer's market purchases.

They overtake the F. They like to sit in the front (which is why I head to the back). Where the F was once a quiet commute--the main sound being the clicking of the levers in the front, and the sound of the rails--it becomes this enormously loud, chatty, high-pitched, guttural explosion of Asian exchanges. Pushy ladies toting 6 bags and cackling loudly with their friends. Squeezing into seats on the benches where there isn't a perceived vacancy. It's almost like hearing the wild parrots of Telegraph Hill for the first time, except much more discordant and disruptive.

I do not look forward to the last half of the ride.

Anyway, that's how I know it's Wednesday, and that's how I can tell time passes. Because it'll seem just like it was yesterday next week when I pass the school kids on my way to the F.