This is going to sound silly, but I’m afraid one of the twins is more photogenic then the other. I was copying a couple sonogram pictures to send to a friend and I got this weird feeling because I wasn’t copying every picture, I was only copying the ones that looked cuter. Ofcourse, they only *just* got limbs in the fuzzy black & white pictures I have . . . but I began to feel guilty that I was avoiding the twin that was posed curled up in a more shrimp-like embryonic fashion, in favor of the twin that was stretched out to look more fetal. Is this ageism? Favoritism?

Are they taunting each other through a room full of amniotic fluid? Is it like Legolas’ Very Secret Diary, with a constant refrain of “Still the prettiest!”? Have they already succumbed to our fascist beauty standards?

Oh, the humanity!

And let’s see . . I witnessed another person’s face appear disappointed upon learning there were fertility meds involved in the conception of these twins. Why is it so exciting that there’s two until one learns I needed help to conceive them? And why the assumption that now I will be done breeding forever?

And on a side note, this blog entry is just wonderful:
“I know what’s going to happen at dinner with Michelle tonight, it’s how it always goes. Over the first drink, she will do what I like to call her public service, explaining to me how she and her husband are so much happier since they started their most recent exercise regimen — yoga, pilates, elliptical training, whatever. Then there will be an anecdote about a “good friend from college” who lost a ton of weight on which ever diet she read about in O Magazine or Cosmo. If these stories were true, every single woman from UCLA’s class of ‘93 must have been an absolute heifer, since there have been enough 60-plus pound “success stories” to choke a horse.”
Go read the whole thing, it’s pretty funny.