For the remainder of my pregnancy, I do not wish to discuss the following topics:
1. Whether I am outgrowing my maternity shirts. Honestly, co-worker who suggested this possibility, what were you thinking? Not only am I probably more sensitive about my size than at any other time in my life, but I am hormonal and emotionally unbalanced as well! You are lucky I didn't sit on you. (PS, to the other co-worker who cannot believe that I am having twins because I am so small -- you are my new best friend, and I do not care if you were lying. Lie to me some more.)
2. My work schedule before delivery and my work schedule after maternity leave. No matter how many times you ask me, the answers will still be I don't know and I don't know (Well, technically I do know but I sure as heck am not burning any bridges until I absolutely have to). I am here until I'm gone. The end.
3. I definitely do not want to have this conversation again:
Other Person: You're still here! How are you feeling?
Me: I am tired.
Other Person: Yeah, just think how tired you'll be after the babies are born.
Thank you. I hadn't thought of that! I mean, I totally have never lain awake at night, desperate for sleep, but unable to get any because I am terrified at the thought of TWO newborns who will need me 24 hours of the day. Also, having never parented a newborn before (Raisin having been born 6 months old), I really have no idea how they behave, so it's a good thing you're here to point it out.
4. Projects the Jellyman and I had planned for our house. For example, someone asked the Jellyman last week why The Tree is still standing in our backyard. Except it was phrased like, "weren't you going to get that taken care of?" And I heard "slackers" clearly implied at the end of it. (Might just be me.)
Instead, please let us focus on the freaking awesomeness of the Jellyman. He is currently running our household almost 100% on his own, as I frequently have to lie down after washing one dish, require help carrying a load of laundry up the stairs, and am far too emotionally volatile to deal with Raisin's two-year-oldiness consistently. This is in addition to all his work to move his office downstairs and get the nursery ready for the twins.
And last night he told me, without sarcasm, that he felt lucky to be married to me. This is a prince among men, people, and the next person who implies that he could be working harder is going to get their ass kicked. Right after the mean co-worker from #1, and right before the President.