I wonder when we’ll get our OWN blog instead of having to share Mama’s.

Hi, we’re still here.

I ate toast today! All by myself. I kept picking it up and putting it in my mouth!

Mama thought I was choking on toast today, because I swallowed the biggest lump of bread ever, but that’s beside the point. We really just wanted to say…

No, but then I am sort of hurting and Mummy keeps saying ‘teething’ but I’m not sure what she means.

I know what it is, but don’t worry, girls mature faster than boys.

Don’t patronize me.

I’m not! I love you. Really.

Then why won’t you ever make eye contact with me when I am petting you and trying to be your friend? Today you kept pushing my hand away.

Well, I’m sorry, but it was covered in spit. And you kept poking my eye.

Oh.

Yeah.

I do, you know. Love you.

Yeah, I know. I love you too.

Who the fuck knew anyone could be allergic to potato, the most bland food product on earth?

Turns out Snort and his indefatigable eczema may have a slight problem with cooked potato, developing a pretty immediate rash wherever it touches his bare skin.

Considering he approaches eating the same way Godzilla, high on angeldust, might approach demolishing New York City, I think it’s not hard to understand why a meal of mashed potatoes could end up covering his face, neck, arms, and legs.

‘At least he’s cute,’ TMD said, as I pointed out that he was that kid – the one with the allergies, the weirdo skin rash, the possible future glasses.

Cute, yes. Beautiful, yes.

But the fact that his forehead is currently crisscrossed with about a million gashes and cuts of different lengths and widths – oh, yes, he’s not one to let a rash die a death. He must SCRATCH and RIP and TEAR at it.

All I know is yesterday there was a Mummy saying, ‘You know, Existere, I don’t really think these rashes of his are linked to anything. It just seems to come and go at random.’

And today there was a Mama who thought, ‘Jesus CHRIST, they’ve been crying all day, I need to break out some sort of entertainment. I know! Isn’t there some mashed potato left over from last night in the fridge?’ And that Mama clucked with pride as her daughter scooped it up and chewed, as her son pounded and squished and bulldozed.

Bad mistake, Mama.

Now there is a Mummy, a Mama, and a cat. There is also Lobster Boy, angry itchy Lobster Boy, who is distantly related to Teething Girl – another one who chooses to emulate killer giant dinosaur things with her ROAR and SCREAM and GNASHING OF TEETH (or gums, as the case may be).

Regardless, we will be steering clear of the old po-tay-toe for now.

Gratitude.

I remember all the years I wanted a baby.

Right now I have two little babies cuddled to me in a wrap. Baby sleep breathing is assailing all my senses from every direction. Milky breath, soft puffs of air against my skin, beautiful little wonders curled in such trust against me.

All those years of waiting were worth this one moment.

One blog post, pretty good working order, tell me when you can collect.

Call it what you will: Freecycle, Freegle, etc. A wonderful invention, and one we use a lot. Not sure what it is? A Yahoo group where you post things you no longer want or need, and give them away for free to people in your local community. We’ve given away a hell of a lot of stuff, and have received quite a bit, too.

I belong to a few local groups, but the one actually based in our city is such a clusterfuck. You see, you can post offers, but you can also post for things you want. On our group, this is where shit gets surreal.

It’s not uncommon for people to offer hedge clippings. Yes, you heard me right. ‘Lovely apple tree clippings to be repotted,’ ‘spider plant babies,’ etc. Another goody is ‘various for car boot sale.’

Or my personal favourite of recent weeks:

‘Offer: various stuff we’re taking to the dump this weekend if no one wants.

1. A piece of wood

2. Extension cord that has been chewed through. You could put tape on it and it would probably work.

3. TV aerial – old fashioned

4. Half a bag of coffee beans

5. Old office chair, missing one leg’

etc etc. You might as well say, ‘Hey, folks, I’ve got a piece of shit teddy bear – only missing the head, otherwise in great condition!’

The odd thing is, people’s wanted lists? Top of the line pushchairs, iPods, iPhones, netbooks, yadda yadda yadda yadda.

Now, I know you might be thinking, ‘How shocking. How simply dreadful. These people are abusing a community resource by posting their dream shopping list.’

Me? I’m thinking, ‘What sort of stupid motherfucker thinks they are going to get a working laptop from a group of people who regularly offer broken vaccum cleaners, balls of twine, and “assorted children’s toys, mostly broken – but may just need batteries. With a good clean they will be safe and good.” ????’

You might as well do a mojo-filled dance on your front lawn asking for that computer, cause honey, we po’. Yes, po’. Baby items seem to be the one exception – we got Snort’s crib from there, and it is actually a top of the line gorgeous piece of art.

That being said, we just gave away a piece of shit cot mobile that no longer lights up and is absolutely covered with a year’s worth of dirt and dust because we never used the fucker.

See? Po’. Go get your expensive goods the next city over, honey, ’cause we ain’t pretentious here. Hell, I just got myself a Lord of the Rings collection (a shitload of thin books easier to read than one giant book), and counted myself lucky that only two of the books had ripped in half spines and there was no visible mould.

PO’.

The one where I actually offer an update.

Okay, I know you’re beside yourself with longing, with unquenchable curiousity. Did Existere go to the Osteopath? What did she/he say?

She thinks the current problem with my pelvis is all due to when I was run over last January. You know, when I was six weeks pregnant.

I told her about being run over because I have been reading up on SPD, as is my wont, and in cases of very severe SPD I noticed a pattern – some sort of trauma. As the osteo was hearing my litany of diagnosis, pain, and not healing, her brow creased. I told her about the accident, and she said, ‘That makes a hell of a lot of sense. I was actually just about to ask if there had been a trauma involving a fall.’

She examined me. Apparently my freely-swinging pelvis is now more of a very mobile pelvis ‘stuck’ in a shit position. The left side is just how it should be, but the right side is rotated out of a neutral position and is stuck that way. After an examination that has left me in unbelieveable pain, she did her heebie jeebie Osteopath stuff. I stood up afterwards and she told me I already looked ‘straighter.’ (No, I’m not going to leave TMD for a man.)

Then she told me I would hurt quite badly for a day or two, after which I would feel better than I have in a long time. She also gave me some Arnica (a homeopathic medicine that’s actually pretty mainstream over here, but I’ve never tried it) and told me this was a ‘blip.’ Yes, the pain that I have had for, oh, just about a year is a blip. She believes it is fully treatable.

Me? Feeling okay about this. TMD bought me some additional Arnica, I am still wearing my baltic amber, I plan to go back to the Osteo in a fortnight. If you bit into my arm right now, it would crunch like cornflakes because I have granola running in my veins*.

Am sort of shocked by how bad I feel. I’m fully back on crutches, shuffling very slowly while leaning heavily on them. The pain in my sacro-iliac-whatever joint has been joined by pain back in my old friend, the symphasis pubis. (First one, lower back, right side. Second one, the pubic hair area.) It’s a bit, um, startling to have bad pain in the front again. I’m glad she warned me I would hurt for a couple of days. I’m hoping that’s what this is and she has not broken me.

She was very unfazed by the whole thing. She complimented my core muscles (clearly all the vomiting during pregnancy kept my tummy tight!). She told me I should go swimming to regain fitness – avoiding the cardinal enemy of SPD, the breaststroke. She recommended I start the core exercises the physio recommended. She also told me I need to wear a support belt when pushing a stroller.

Yes, the fuckupedness of this whole thing is that my relapse is probably due to pushing the twins around in a stroller because I was worried babywearing would irritate my body. But I’ve been given the all clear to babywear, preferably with a wrap, preferably one baby at a time. I’m going to take a break for awhile, seeing as I’m in no state to go out and traipse around anyway.

But you realise what this means? If this little problem of mine was really caused by the accident, there may be implications for my possible future pregnancies. Because if this had JUST been SPD, I was told not to get pregnant again – because, and I quote, ‘I am the worst case of SPD they’ve seen, and it usually gets worse with a second pregnancy.’ But if it’s the accident, and perhaps if I had treatment throughout a second pregnancy…hmmm.

All of that being said, as I was recounting pregnancy – being run over, almost needing surgery, vomiting dozens of times a day, being confined to a wheelchair – part of me was thinking, ‘Why in god’s name would I want to do that again?’ (Though I’d look both ways before crossing any streets, I’ll tell you.)

I think it’s because I want one. more. baby.

But that is the subject for another entry.

At the moment, please send good, healing vibes my way. I’m Buddhist, but I’ll take anything you’ve got. I am tired of lying prone, of having nothing to do with the babies (though Snort slept by me in bed today while I watched slasher movies on youtube), of TMD having to take time off work to care for the three of us. I am ready to reenter the land of real, even if at first that means my capability to walk for about fifteen minutes without crutches.

Baby steps.

But please, please, please, let me be able to walk, to run, to live a normal life…..before my babies can walk. That’s about six months, okay, universe?

*I thought of this sentence in the bathtub tonight, and it made me smile.

guest entry: blondie

(guest post)

dear sister,

there are so many moments where it’s difficult to be strong & to be myself, but i find a way to make it through, & you’re the only person who knows i’ll do the right thing… that doesn’t tell me what to do, but says “you’ll figure it out,” in this knowing way that only an older sister could say.

now you have two beautiful additions to your family, to our family, and everyday i want to tell you how much it hurts my heart to not be there… to see the first carrot eaten, to see your face light up when you look at your twins, to see your wife, who i have come to love just like a sister.

there is so much about you that i admire, & when i think about who i want to be one day a lot of the qualities i want to grow are the ones that you have.  it hurts to be away from you too. it hurts to not tell you about my everyday. it hurts that you don’t get to see that i am growing into a person i’m proud of, a person you’d be proud of too.

last week you looked to me for advice & for some reason i felt like you looked at me differently, like i had grown up. in many ways i have, in many ways i still need to figure things out. i wish you were here to help, but i always feel this connection to you that only you will get.

there are so many things we share besides the fact that you saved my life when i rolled into our pool as a little baby. you are creative & seeing you be so open has inspired me to be open too… to be myself… to love myself… to not be embarrassed by the past, but to learn from it.

from far away i saw you grow & i wish i could explain how watching your life changed mine, but it did… in such a beautiful way.

i might never be as strong as you, even though i can convince the business world of anything i’d like.  there’s something you just have to know…. that i’m so proud of you.

i look up to you, and just like dj you really are “smart, pretty and cool”. you are so beautiful for everything you have been through & for who you are after dealing with it. you try still to protect me, knowing that i’m a little innocent, & i like that. you might be the only person who gets me & my “blondie” world of perfection & love that begins under snow while waiting for a bus in some serendipitous way. you appreciate these things instead of calling them ridiculous.

i really do want to be “just like you.” you are beautiful, insanely talented, creative, intelligent, romantic, insightful & i am blessed every single day that you are my sister.

in my secret world i wish i could change my life & be near you & your little daisy & joey. in a lot of ways i have thought about it.

i miss you. i love you. i would do anything for you.

-blondie

ps. thank you for ignoring spelling errors & grammar… for loving me even though i’m far from perfect.

SPD is your friend and mine.

Last night we talked about  me getting disability benefits. Including the little blue badge that means we can park closer to things.

Why? I’ve had an acute flare up of my SPD and can’t walk.

The pain last night was worse than any level of pain I had – even during pregnancy. For those not au fait with my pregnancy exploits, I was firmly shoved into a wheelchair at 32 weeks and told I should have been in one sooner. I was on crutches from about 19 weeks, and in severe pain from about 14 weeks. Good shit.

I am going to be proactive.

I bought myself a ‘teething’ necklace because they have worked wonders for the babies. Absolute wonders. They are something bordering on magic, and it means we have no had to give medication for pain relief of teething. Yay. Snort’s eczema is also clearing because of the necklace. I admit I was very skeptical of claims regarding baltic amber, but I am now a believer. I only hope I can have similar benefits.

I called my specialist physio this morning. She’s away until next week. Left a message and said she needed to phone me back.

I then called Snort’s osteopath – he needed a final check up anyway, so we’re going in at the ass crack of dawn tomorrow to get him checked out (for his head shape). I then have booked an assessment with the woman for myself. My physio has said osteo/chiro would not help me because my pelvis was in perfect alignment, just incredibly flexible. I am hoping she was wrong and that osteopathy will help reduce the pain and increase my abilities.

I also want to start chanting again, with a focus on regaining total recovery from SPD. I realise this entry is making me sound like a fucking weirdo hippy – amber necklaces, osteopathy, chanting – but you know what? If it works, when it works, I won’t give a damn how I sound.

I’m in intense pain and unable to walk at all, but feeling fiercely determined to beat this. It’s making me almost cheerful. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go lay down because sitting up is hurting me like a motherfucker.

Reminder.

Erm, if you are a parent or parent-to-be of twins, if you like babywearing (or are curious about it), or if you are simply nosy posy and want to see uncensored pics and videos of our whole family, please ask me for the link to my other blog.

Our first week with Baby Led Weaning

What was tried:

In general, Snort’s not that bothered with solids, aside from playing with them. Exceptions are avacado, hummous, and broccoli. He doesn’t seem to ‘get’ that it’s food yet – though this morning he held a rice cake and when he saw me eating mine, he put his to his mouth and smiled at me in a hopeful sort of way.

Coconut will try anything and loves pretty much everything. She had some demon eye rolling and puking for broccoli and hummous, but whatcha gonna do. When we were out yesterday, she grabbed for my entire panini off my plate. We broke off some bread, and she happily chewed on that for ages.

So far we are enjoying baby led weaning a lot. Snort has disturbingly started eating at four hours round the clock – so two night feeds last night. Don’t think it’s a growth spurt as both babies have been sleeping through the night for months, even during growth spurts. I’m wondering if it’s that he needs more calories or something, and as he isn’t really eating solids he’s upped his milk feeds? We’re up to six feeds in 24 hours as opposed to four. Others have suggested it’s a developmental thing, so I’ll have to look into it.

Regardless, Valentine’s Day was lovely. TMD, me, and Aussie went into town – each wearing a baby. I think we looked like some sort of hippy gang. Our babies in their slings, with their amber necklaces. Oh, yes, I think I am granola.

Take us to your leader.