Two Babies and a Pirate

Right. So, this may be my bestest excuse for blogging laxity ever.

It has been mentioned (and honestly self-recriminated) that we all are tired of reading about squash blossom quesadillas. Well, the extreme mental exhaustion that fell over me during the Mexico marathon was not the unfortunate result of food-borne parasitic infestation, as we have discovered. And the abdominal muscle pulling feeling was not the positive side-effect of my cleverly-devised triceps brachii exercise of hanging upside down and half-off the end of the Hampton Inn bed (whilst watching a compilation of NCIS, CSI and Law & Order... of course) and hoisting my table display stands to a right angle to my torso. And the comatose state that tended to settle on me within 12 seconds of becoming seated or prone was not related to either the tsetse fly or to jet lag (yes, they say that the tsetse fly only lives in Africa, but flies are sneaky).

No -- this lethargy (and accompanying psuedo-exercise symptoms -- it was pretty amazing that the muscles were still tired a week after the last hanging-upside-down event) has been discovered to be the result of the presence of Squeak. 'Squeak' is the temporary classification I have given to the very small sentient soul who is currently resident behind the non-toned muscles of my tummy (It just is too horrible a nomenclature).

[Admittedly, the title of this entry does indicate the presence of more than just one Squeak, although this is not true. There is a long story: Lady Lindsey was unable to locate any non-sicky-sweet or non-ethnically-congratulatory cards, so she instead sent one congratulating us on our Triplets -- E only had a momentary swing towards coronary failure, I believe. Then the newest honorary Cousin, claimed to see definitely 5 legs in the ultrasound, leading to the query: 'So what's up with that? Two babies and a pirate???' And this has stuck. We are shopping for a parrot as I type.]

Shortly after discovering Squeak, several things became (and continue to become) clear(er):

• initial distaste for wine was not due to an ulcer;
• muscle tiredness is not always the result of feeble and ludicrous 'exercise' attempts;
• even a being the size of a butterbean is capable of reducing bladder capacity to quite a significant degree;
• the necessity to politely request that E take his beer to other side of room was not due to petulance, but to a psychotically heightened sense of smell (and accompanying nausea);
• constant nausea is just as bad, or worse, than being physically ill;
• Mamas know things when they are not necessarily supposed to, but they are polite and don't mention them when there are strangers around (mostly).

At this point, Squeak is at 13 weeks of development (but THEY claim it is the 15th week of Pregnancy). I am unsure if Squeak is 4.5 inches long and kicking or 'the size of a peach' (apparently peaches don't kick). Some more research must be done now that overseas work Travel is over for a significant while (and my biology textbooks are in storage in Louisiana), but it is so confusing -- e.g., exactly what kind of peach is this? Is this an early-season peach the size and texture of a baseball or is it a gorgeous, juicy gigantic Georgia peach the size of a grapefruit? And if a grapefruit, then the size of a Bruner orchard grapefruit or a piddly little Texas one? SOOOOOO many questions.