BEHOLD THE MIRACLE OF LIFE!

Or rather, behold the miracle of discovering that yes, it's possible to pass something about as wide as a two liter bottle down that space, and realize just how full of it all those porn stories are—trust me. No guy is that big.

Now let me explain what is supposed to happen and what iw really happening.

Supposed to, in the Hallmark-verse.

Me: Oh, husband dear…behold this blessed event. Isn't is so wonderful. I wish to experience this to its full degree, so do not give me morphine.

Reality: Me: ARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH! I've been pushing and panting for TEN FREAKING HOURS! WHAT ARE THOSE TWO DOING? HAVING A PARTY SO THEY DON'T WANT TO LEAVE? WHERE IS MY MORPHINE!

Dr. Ms. Possible (With a BIG smile on her face, because right now, somebody ELSE is having twins): Push dear.

Me: WHAT DO YOU THINK I'VE BEEN DOING!

It gets worse because on the monitor image we had as I was going through this, it looks like the girl wants to get out—the boy really wants to stay put. Of course, the boy is ah, "in the chute" and the girl is apparently jumping up and down on his head.

Now, for hubby. Ah yes, the man who put the little tykes in me. (And remember this girls, at these moments, they are always his children.).

Hallmark-verse:

Hubby: Ah, the miracle of life! I am so happy. Wife, let me assist.

Reality: Ron: OH MY GOD! WHAT IS HAPPENING DOWN THERE? I'VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING SO DISGUSTING IN MY LIFE! I TOUCHED YOU DOWN THERE? (Oh, and the proper response to that, ladies is: Yes, you $$#! Because that's why this is happening now!).

Seriously, the same husband that cannot keep his hands, and other appendages off of you, is now looking at your crotch, with all the joy of birth going on down there, like you're about to explode into some amoeboid creature from another dimension. Don't be upset—just hope that he doesn't faint or barf. Ron did neither.

So, I'm pushing and reflecting that this is something that I never expected when I was fighting Kimmie. I'm also concentrating on avoiding that idiotic "stupid mommy reflex". I'm about to have two little blobs of protoplasm, that will be ugly. I will not try to pretend they are anything else.

Then all of a sudden, I'm twenty pounds lighter, exhausted as anything, and the two rug-rats are put on my chest, with those scrunched up red faces, with eyes closed against the evil, evil light—to say nothing of the evil, evil doctor that smacked them on the ass.

OK. I'm looking at them, and my mouth is open to tell them just how funny and ugly they look…when suddenly, to my horror, my ears don't hear that.

They hear a sniffle and me saying how incredibly beautiful they both are. Ron's saying the same thing, and we both have that idiotic poleaxed smile on our faces, because I have never seen anything so beautiful.

Gah. I can't believe I said that. I can't believe I said that.

And it was true.

We name them Ann and David Stoppable. They're bright, happy kids, and between the two of them, active enough to make me wish for the days of only having to deal with GJ.

Now, fortunately, we've had our great crisis moment in the marriage. So the fact that now we have two children who have practiced how to keep mommy and daddy awake at all hours of the night and day, doesn't hurt our marriage…just our sleep patterns. Since I'm the one with the equipment, I'm up a fair amount feeding them. Ron feeds them with stuff from the fridge, either banked away or store bought, but they prefer mommy.

Oh, yeah, quick aside. You know all those books on "how to decide when to wean?" Don't bother. I'll tell you when.

When teething equals: Me: Here you go baby. Baby: CHOMP! Me: AIIIGGGGGHHH!

That's when you wean. Unless you want to bring up a vampire, that is. Of course in our case, the kids were born pretty big and healthy, so according to the pediatrician, they teethed early as well.

Also, Kid's love dry diapers. Why? Because that means they can watch the look on mommy and daddy's face when they wait until you put them in a new, clean diaper…and then soil it right away!

Beyond that, I'm not going to bore you with all the fun involved with newborns. If you have them, you know, if you don't I'll just scare you.

But tangentially, the kids absolutely adore Bonnie and Kim—and Bonnie and Kim adore them right back. From what I understand, I think Bonnie's using them as a back door assault on Kim. Bonnie wants to get married, Kim's skittish and Ron, I and the rugrats get brought up a lot, especially when said rugrats are crawling around over their floor.

Now, I'm not going to go into a lot of detail here. Kids are…well… kids. Time passes, and we start to get into a comfortable groove. Ron graduates early and goes to work for Bueno Nacho, and before too long, is on the fast track to head up their R&D department. This, of course, makes him happier than a bug in a rug. I get my GED and start on some college courses, mostly online, because the kids are still really too young to leave alone, and I'm pretty proprietary about letting other people take care of them. Kim, yes, Bonnie yes, but they have their own lives.

Now, I understand that you expect us all to get back to adventure—but let me explain why most super hero/villains are not family people:

Old days:

Ron: Shego, let's go to Japan

Me: OK.

Ten minutes later, we're ready to go.

Now:

Ron: Shego, let's go to the other side of town.

Me: OK. Did you get the diapers?

Ron: I thought you got the diapers—I got the formula.

Me: Ron, I have the formula—we don't need that much—and we do need diapers.

Ron: OK, lets turn around…what about the chair?

Etc. etc. Long story short, when you have kids… getting across the street in anything less than a day can be a major operation.

But when the kids are two, Kim and Bonnie finally decide to tie the knot and we are there. Bonnie's sisters are there too, and they're being polite… I don't know why. Maybe they're mellowing…maybe it's because the smartest and the prettiest have had a bit more life under their belts, and found out that sometimes smart and pretty aren't enough.

Kim's family is thrilled—even Jim and Tim, who are let off of suspension for the wedding. (Oh, I'm not going to bore you with the story, besides, if you subscribe to any major newspaper, you'll know—it's not often that freshmen manage to create a micro-singularity in a school lab). Mom's crying, and dad's looking happy as anything—although maybe it is because he can finally relax about Kim going out with some boy. He ain't blue, but he's just about as clueless as Dr. D….who also showed up, along with DNAmy—but between us, we managed to convince her that doves with 12 foot wingspans were not the proper gift to bring to a wedding.

Not all is roses of course—when the twins are 5, Rufus dies. It was expected—he'd lived a long time past the normal life span of a mole rat, but that doesn't make it any happier. Ron's inconsolable for a while, and so is Kim. I never heard him talk, but the two of them both are convinced he did. So dad's unhappy (and so am I—the little fellow grew on me), and the fact that it was peaceful and inhis sleep really doesn't help. We bury Rufus in a corner of the garden, with Kim and Ron, and a few other friends that remember him. The kids miss their playmate—but I'm not going to suggest a pet, because well, to Ron, he wasn't a pet, but a friend.

Not to mention that with Ron working and the kids getting close to school, guess who will probably get voted main pet tender? Right, me.

So I'm beginning to weaken, as the kids are, a month later (and kids do bounce back quickly—but remember I said they're bright? They're working on mom because they realize dad doesn't really want to hear this right now), working on mommy to get them a dog.

Well, Ann wants a horse, and David wants an alligator, but they both will be satisfied with a dog.

I don't want a dog. If we're going to get something, let it be a nice, independent cat.

Nope. Dog.

But I'm rescued, by a lady who shows up one day with a basket full of…

You guessed it.

Naked Mole Rats. Rufus' progeny. Little fellow was certainly active, and I didn't even know that female mole rates existed, or maybe my brain was censoring some images I just didn't need. But he sure did, from the number of descendants.

But the twins are thrilled, Ron's…accepting…

And I still can't here the little suckers talk. But the kids can—they hold full conversations with them.

So, for the twins' sixth birthday, we have a lot of fun…and then that night, I confess to Ron that I wouldn't mind another kid. He salutes and tells me that as hard as it will be…he will endeavor to please. I laugh so hard I nearly fall out of bed—you had the see the salute and the very "I will do this, no matter the cost", expression he put on his face to understand.

So I'm pregnant again. At least this time the morning sickness is not so bad… and more importantly, I'm looking forward to the kid…not dreading the thought. Still scared—you really can't get "unscared" when you figure what you've just decided to do, but not terrified.

Then, one day, I'm finishing up at college. Now that the kids are beginning school, I can take courses in person instead of online, and it's actually pretty fun. It also gets me out—believe me, while I'm solitary, you can get…pretty cramped and a bit lonely for some adult friendship when you're raising kids. I don't begrudge it, but being able to chat with people my age (or close) is a new experience. Also, given the short memory most people have, the "Evil Shego" is practically forgotten—most people call (and refer to me as), Mrs. Stoppable. It beats them screaming and running for the hills…

But then I get a celphone call from Kim's mom. She tells me there's been an accident, in that very calm voice doctors and airplane pilots use when something has gone straight to hell. I get a cold feeling in my stomach, as I hear some people in the hall of the college get quiet—and I see two cops walking towards me. They also have that expression on their face and their voices are very, very calm.

Something's happened to Ann.

She was out on the playground, and a drunk driver smashed through the fence at 60 MPH, hit her, and bounced her nearly 80 feet into the wall of the school. She's at the hospital now, and I need to come with them right now. Ron will be there as well.

The teacher and some of the students grab my stuff and promise to bring it. I barely hear them.

I barely hear anything as the cops take me to the car.

To be continued.