Tuesday, August 24, 2010

What's in a Name?

Good Afternoon Readers,

This weekend, between plugging one of my babies with a pacifier and eating pizza with my only free hand, it occurred to me that I've never actually explained where the name of my blog came from (Side Note: my blog is now an actual website, so feel free to save www.theresmorewherethatcamefrom.com to your favorites, tell strangers you love it, put it on at-shirt, or tattoo it on your left leg...I won't stop you). Eww, tangents...now where was I? Ah yes, everyone may now gather round for the story of a fat lady, a stromboli, and true love....
Once upon a time, I was a very pregnant little lady, who could barely see her feet. In an attempt to have some fun before the impending miracle, my dear husband and I decided to go out for a date night. As bumper cars and bowling were out of the question, we rested on the conclusion that dinner and a movie would probably be the safest activity for us to partake in. Soooo.....we waddle, waddle, waddled (ok, he strolled comfortably) to one of our favorite places to eat.

After a slow journey through the parking lot, we made our way into the restaurant and managed to pick the tallest table with the tallest chairs. This required a large amount of upper body strength on my part, as I used sheer will power to hoist my Titanic rear into my seat. After positioning myself comfortably, I proceeded to swing my feet back and forth daintily and sip down 4 lemonades in the next fifteen minutes....adorable recovery, I know.
My self confidence a little bruised from the chair workout, I decided to ease my pain with something delicious. So what does a pregnant with twins, gestational diabetic with preeclampsia, massive weight gain, and bloat order for herself? Why, a cheezy,gooey, meatball-stuffed, give yourself a heart attack it's so good stromboli. Excuse me, but I must wipe the drool off my computer...........Ok, that's better...Where was I?
Oh yes, fade back to the vision of the mammoth lady devouring cheese-stuffed goodness with reckless abandon.
Once the stromboli was history, I not only felt stuffed, but even larger than before. I finished my fifth lemonade and proceeded to pout to myself for a bit. Compounding my sadness, was the conclusion that my husband and I had come to, that we'd better just skip the movie altogether. This was mainly for the reason that I was exhausted, and my bladder wasn't going to make it through anything even near the length of Avatar. No one wants to have to lean over to the person next to them and say, "Excuse me mam, but may I borrow your empty Raisinettes box to clean up my piddle?".......shoot me.
It was at this oh so particular physical and mental pregnancy low, that my beloved, sweet, and kind husband leaned towards me, put his hand lovingly on my pumpkin belly, looked me dead in the eye, and said,
"Ya know baby, there's more where that came from."............
Please process above statement for a moment..........Ok, thank you. 
At first, I thought this was a horrifying thing to say to someone who's eight months pregnant...and it is mind you.....but in a way, it's an excellent way to describe life in general. This is especially true for our twin- filled lives as they stand right now. There's always more where that came from. And if there isn't, then you're probably dead. Think about it and have a lovely day readers.