The Book Worm and her Squirmy Worms

Beside my bed, there is a large, brown woven basket full of books. One of them is a fiction novel I intended to read last year and clearly never got around to opening. All the rest are pregnancy-related books.

I've got "What to Expect...," "Your Pregnancy Week by Week" and a whole slew of others on topics like breastfeeding and preparing to bring baby (or in my case babies) home from the hospital.

The problem is I haven't really had the time (or frankly the energy) to read them since the middle of my second trimester. Bad mom, I know.

I really think there should be a pamphlet sold with every book that states: "Warning. Planning for motherhood is an exciting, yet time-consuming task. Don't even try to complete this book until you've picked out your baby furniture, registered for gifts, decorated the nursery and childproofed your house. Any attempt to do otherwise is an exercise in futility."

Somehow, I doubt Random House is going to agree with me.

Because I know the Wonder Twins could come at any time in the next few weeks or months, I feel a little guilty that I haven't made my way through more of the book basket by the bed.

This weekend, I tried to make up for my literary deficiency. I overachieved and read the entire end of "Your Pregnancy Week by Week." I am now officially up to date on all things that could possibly happen between now and week 41 (overdue)!

The good thing is I had already learned most of the information in my childbirth class at the hospital.

The bad thing is I think the authors of the book needed some "filler" content for some of the latter chapters, so they found the most disturbing diseases or health problems a baby could possibly suffer from and put at least one in each chapter. Thanks, Nurse Nancy. Now, I won't be able to sleep tonight.

To lessen the nighttime tossing and turning, I try to read in the morning and not just before hitting the sack. It gives me a chance to process the information but not enough time to dwell on it so much that it interrupts my sleep.

That's good news for the twins. They are both extremely active these days, and they tend to launch a physical protest when I move too much at night.

I try to apologize for flipping my giant body from side to side, but I don't think they can hear me. Their response is to push. Hard.

Twin A's new trick is to slide waaaay up under my right rib and push out, forming a big, round bump. Twin B tends to slide to the middle of my tummy and push her head (I think) into what used to be my belly button until it looks like the nose cone of the space shuttle.

Usually, a light tummy massage will lessen the pushing but not always. They are obviously hard headed like their mother.

Their tummy-contorting movements have earned them the nicknames "Mommy's Squirmy Worms."

Perhaps, they'll calm down a little if momma book worm trades her maternity books for "High School Musical 3."