Never overlook the obvious...

Just had a hellish playdate - Z was a total menace and I spent all morning trying to figure out why he's being such a bad version of himself today.

Its an indication of how sleep deprived I am that I forgot to factor in the fact that he's poorly at the moment - with recurrent croup. He's full of cold and toddlers always misbehave when they are under the weather. But he's been a nightmare!

I just realised the treatment he was given yesterday for his croup was a steroid. They did mention he might be pumped up - I kind of forgot this would last for 48 hours.

I should have cancelled the playdate. I'm now amazed he was actually so good!

Moral of the story - toddler playmates are bad enough. Don't organise them when your toddler is on steroids. Certainly never organise a playdate when you have four month old twins and your toddler is on steroids. If you do organise a playdate when you've got 4 month old twins and a toddler on steroids, certainly don't attempt to make homemade butternut squash soup and homemade bread.

I'm going to spend the rest of the afternoon watching Frozen and hiding under a duvet.

Silly mummy.

I just want my babies to stay being babies....

Yesterday I had a shock.  I had a friend over for lunch and she brought her two boys.  The eldest I've known since he was about six months old.  The first time I met him, we babysat him at work and he sat on my knee while I sent some emails and he was a cuddly, lovely, bundle of squidgyness.

Yesterday, he refused to give me a kiss goodbye, and when I said he was a good boy, he said "I'm not a good boy, I'm a cool boy".  A cool boy??! Suddenly, and with startling clarity, I realised that my babies won't stay babies forever.  And it broke my heart.

With Z, I've rushed to every developmental milestone, so keen to get to the next one.  We started weaning on his four month birthday, he got his first shoes at ten months when he couldn't really walk. I've always pushed him to roll over, to sit up, to crawl.  And now I want it all to slow down please.

He's so wonderful and cute and snuggly.  He bosses me around at the moment "Sit here, Mummy" and takes my hand when we leave the front gate "Hand, Mummy".  He needs me to wipe his nose, and his hands "Sticky Mummy".  And one day he won't need me at all and I can't bear it.

I took the twins to a baby sensory class in Cheshire today and it was all bright lights, loud music, bits of cloth being shoved in their faces.  And I recognise myself in the other pushy Mums of first born singletons.  And I realised that I don't want the twins to have lots of sensory development - I want them to stay all tiny and delicious and to think that I am the universe for forever.

For the first time, I'm starting to feel like a Mum.  Not just a keen intern who views this as a two year project.  I'm starting to get that low down aching heart pain.  And I suspect it's not going to get any easier.

And I really want my babies to stay babies forever.

I've seen and dismissed this poem on mumsnet etc before.  And I think it's starting to make sense....*sobs*

"The Last Time"

From the moment you hold your baby in your arms you will never be the same
You might long for the person you were before
When you had freedom and time
And nothing in particular to worry about
You will know tiredness like you never knew it before
And days will run into days that are exactly the same
Full of feedings and burping
Nappy changes and crying
Whining and fighting
Naps or a lack of naps
It might seem like a never-ending cycle

But don’t forget….
There is a last time for everything
There will come a time when you will feed your baby for the very last time
They will fall asleep on you after a long day
And it will be the last time you ever hold your sleeping child
One day you will carry them on your hip then set them down
And never pick them up that way again
You will scrub their hair in the bath one night
And from that day on they will want to bathe alone
They will hold your hand to cross the road
Then never reach for it again
They will creep into your room at midnight for cuddles
And it will be the last night you ever wake to this
One afternoon you will sing “the wheels on the bus” and do all the actions
Then never sing them that song again
They will kiss you goodbye at the school gate
The next day they will ask to walk to the gate alone
You will read a final bedtime story and wipe your last dirty face
They will run to you with arms raised for the very last time.
The thing is, you won’t even know it’s the last time
Until there are no more times. And even then, it will take you a while to realise.
So while you are living in these times, remember there are only so many of them and when they are gone, you will yearn for just one more day of them.
For one last time.

That Freaky Clown Picture

I'm sure everyone does unusual things when they're pregnant.  My have included, but are not limited to: genuinely thinking that what my ice-cream lacked was some gerkins and then feeling like a huge cliché, emailing 60 or so speakers in advance of an event with my incorrect contact number, leaving my laptop at airport security, in Tesco, in my hotel room.

During my second pregnancy I also purchased a creepily freaky painting of a clown from a charity shop which I decided would go in the "circus" themed nursery décor.  (The only thing circus themed in the nursery is the clown picture)  I thought that once it was reframed it would look less freaky. 

As it turns out, once reframed it still looks hideous.  I would regret my purchase if it weren't for the fact that all the kids seem to love it.

My toddler stands on the changing table and points to the animals.

The babies can't stop staring at it while they're getting their nappy changed.

It's totally genius.  If you happen to be under the age of two, pregnant or have no taste whatsoever.

And if you can ignore the fact it's wonderfully weird.

In the words of Coldplay, "Nobody said it was easy, No-one ever said it would be this hard..."

Once upon a time - not so very long ago, I was thinner, I had better clothes, and I like to think I was a little bit cool.  Whatever I was, I was totally footloose and fancy free.  I drank in bars(!).  I went shopping at 9pm to "pick up something nice for dinner" (which we would eat at around 10pm).  I lay in bed on a Sunday nursing a hangover all day.  I read books all the way through.  I went and had my nails done.  I basically did whatever I wanted whenever I wanted.

And I shared this fantastic existence with my hubby.  He is easy-going, low-maintenance and generally fun to be around.  This life was easy.  I did not know this life was easy,  I in fact complained sometimes about how hard this life was.

Then, we had a baby.  First, I was pregnant with a baby, and that was hard.  And boring, and sober, and very fat-making.  And I complained a lot about how hard that life was.  And once we had our baby, we had a big shock.  Because now everything was really truly difficult and tedious.  We dealt with sleepless nights, the frustration of changing sheets five times in a 24 hour period.  We had plans ruined, and all spontaneity taken away.  We gave up on going to bars and eating out.  We moved to the suburbs and bought more toys.  And started wearing comfy shoes and making bread.

And then I had a second pregnancy.  A twin pregnancy.  And by the time you're 38 weeks pregnant with twins (both born at 7lbs) everything you've ever done before seems really easy.

And then we went from a little, easily contained family of three to a chaotic family of five overnight.  And this is really, really hard. I don't really feel ready for how responsible I have to be, or prepared for how difficult it is.

And yet, I'm not sure I've ever been happier.  I'm permanently covered in some kind of bodily fluid - or possibly all bodily fluids.  I've given up covering up the bags under my eyes.  I read the headlines of the newspapers in the shop and feel up to date with current affairs.  I make Halloween costumes while breastfeeding, put toddlers shoes on while sitting on the loo, I do my pelvic floor exercises whilst making dinner, cradling a baby in one hand and singing "wheels on the bus" to a toddler and chatting to my Mum on speakerphone.  This life is non-stop.  It is challenging, and tiring, and monotonous.  This life is filled with a million little things every day that make my heart melt.  And I love it.

That said, if you could give me 48 hours to eat a meal in a restaurant, have a full night's sleep, read the Sunday papers and have a long, hot hair bath, I'd bite your ruddy hand off.

The Seven Week Itch

The little ones were 7 weeks old on Tuesday and I'm starting to feel like the novelty has worn off. Forgive me if that sounds a bit harsh and unlike a Loved Up Twin Mum.

I had the same experience after Z was born and I wonder if the 7 week itch is a common phenomenon? 

I'm feeling better in myself (finally!), my jeans fit again (admittedly my fat jeans) and I'm back on the booze (well, I've had a few glasses of wine) and the (perhaps slightly premature) feeling is that maybe me and the babes should part ways? I can go back to doing my thing and they can get on with their lives, gain a bit of independence etc.

I wonder if we were in the wild, this would be the moment I abandoned them? And people watching the nature documentary would think 'gosh, that's a bit harsh - they're so tiny'. But if I were a big grizzly bear for example, I wouldn't feel the least bit guilty.

But I do feel a bit guilty. I've reached my limit of relentless monotony. I've got to the end of my tether when it comes to nappy changing, nighttime feeds and pacing and jiggling. I'm ready to face the world again, but the babies still need me. They don't understand that it's nearly Christmas and I'd like to be enjoying the party season, lashed everyday on something mulled. They don't realise that I'd like to wear some clothes that don't include easy boob access. They really don't get my need for 6 hours straight sleep.

So, I think it's time we call it a day, they can go their way and I'll go mine. Or at least maybe I can have a little fling. I'm off for dinner tomorrow night while Mr S babysits. I imagine that an evening away, with some booze and banter will be enough that by the time I get home I'm desperate to see their pudgy little faces. And the 7 week itch will be cured. 

It's been 6 weeks since my last blog.....

I'm feeling guilty and the need to confess.  I've done no blogging for 6 weeks, which is a very large percentage of the time since I set up this blog in the first place.

My only excuse is that I've been a bit busy with newborn twins. (and a 19 month old, and recovering from a c section, and keeping up to date with housework, and applying for a new job, having an (unsuccessful) interview, spending time with hubby and drinking quite a lot of wine)

But, here I am, the twins are 6 weeks on Tuesday and things are starting to return to normal.  The generally accepted "6 week post-partum" phase really holds true - it takes that long for you to heal and the babies to get used to being in the world, and then suddenly, the "new baby" cards stop arriving, people start expecting a lot more of you, the babies get through the brutal 6 week growth spurt, and here you are - the babies aren't newborn anymore and you've got no more excuses for not blogging.  Pah.

I've been wracking my brains for some ideas of blog content in the last week as the non-blogging guilt has been mounting.  I'm still not entirely sure of what kind of blog this is going to be.  Work related?  Humourous? Factual, advice based?

Things I have learnt in the last 6 weeks (that maybe I knew before and have forgotten since the last newborn episode)

1. Poo gets worse

When you have your first baby, you are horrified by all the poo.  After you have changed a toddler's pooey nappy, newborn poo is nothing.  It's practically pleasant.  You could smear a breastfed newborn's poo on your face and not notice compared to a speck of toddler poo - which is basically a smaller quantity of grown up poo, and they insist on serving things like chickpea curry at nursey.  In the words of Z, "blurgh"

2. Sleep deprivation gets easier

Whe you have your first baby, you are horrified by the lack of sleep and totally shocked by the pace.  With your second baby (or in our case babies), you are chuffed every time you get 2 hours uninterrupted sleep.

3. Breastfeeding is hard work

I'm currently managing to successfully breastfeed twins - and that's pretty much all I do.  I watch a lot of shows on Netflix.  And people bring me tea, and I sit very still and feed.  I now realise why I was unsuccessful in feeding Z - I actually left the house, and saw people, and went places, and had fun.  That said, I've nearly lost my pregnancy weight 6 weeks in, and it took me a year to shift after Z, so the boredom has it's pros.  And if you can lose half a stone in 6 weeks by sitting on your bum watching telly it can't be all bad.

4. Receovering from a c section sucks

Everyone's experience is different, but having had a normal delivery with Z and a section for the twins, I would definitely not choose a section.  The recovery for me has been pretty brutal, not least because I've been unable to lift my toddler and I miss him. That's the hardest part of this whole thing.

6. Emotions run wild

There's only been a few occasions so far when we're ALL crying, but the 'baby bike's are certainly harder to deal with with twins, and with a toddler who has decided he hates you. The more standoffish he is, the more needy I become. The less he likes me - and repeat. On the other hand, the babies are delicious, it's nearly Christmas, we have a beautiful family and I'm off to Space NK to treat myself to any product that can make me look less grey. There are ups and downs.

So I'm not sure what kind of blog this is, but I'll keep going and find out later. Perhaps when I'm getting more sleep.

Blog Action Day 16th October Let's Talk About #inequality: Greater Manchester Food Poverty Week

Thursday 16th October is Blog Action Day #BAD14, supported by Oxfam. This year, Blog Action Day is tackling #inequality, a universal theme across society internationally and one that charities like Oxfam work tirelessly to combat.

This week - 13th - 19th October is also food poverty week in Greater Manchester (www.manchesterfoodpoverty.co.uk)  - a week encouraging businesses in Manchester to take action tackling the #inequality of food poverty.

One in 10 people in Greater Manchester said they skipped meals so a family member could eat, the joint highest number in the UK along with Glasgow and Birmingham.
source: Greater Manchester Poverty Commission

The Trussell Trust currently runs 17 food banks in Greater Manchester. The charity has plans to open more to meet demand.
source: Manchester Evening News

With companies like Eversheds, Kellogg's, Trafford Housing Trust and Shoosmoths supporting charities such as Trussell Trust, Fareshare, Business in the Community and Forever Manchester, it's a great movement to address the inequality raised by the fact that some are being deprived a basic human function such as eating, and eating well.

There is currently no established measure of food poverty in the UK (unlike the measure for fuel poverty). This is despite the fact that the average UK household spends more than twice as much on food as it does on utilities.  People’s spending on food adjusts according to their situation and some families struggling to make ends meet will cut back on food expenditure and may even go without meals such as breakfast.

Food poverty Week also raises fundamental questions about how we tackle inequality - by addressing food poverty with solutions such as food banks are we inadvertently widening the gap by increasing dependence on handouts? Yet how can we address the immediacy of there being children in Greater Manchester who don't start the day with the proper fuel to thrive without immediate support.

Addressing inequality isn't easy and knowing what the right solution is can be a real challenge, and one that asks those involved to come up with creative solutions, investing a large amount of time and energy into projects. But activity such as Food Poverty Week and Blog Action Day ensure that the conversations are being had and that inequality isn't being ignored. And it seems to me that that is the first part of the battle.