Negotiating twins.

by

We are in the middle of a massive, soul sucking (melting?) heatwave. It’s gross. Super gross.

Snort and Coconut slept in a little this morning, and I was delighted to see the sky was overcast and there was a breeze while we were having breakfast. I knew this would soon turn to ice cap melting temperatures, so I decided we’d go on a very short walk as I need the exercise and they’d like to get out.

It’s around nine. I figure I’ll clean up from breakfast and off! we! go! (You know, because their nap would be pushed back due to late wakinupedness.)

I clean up. I change Coco’s poop diaper.  I start the hunt for sunscreen.

Snort cries and looks at me. I look at him and go make a bottle. We have a cuddle and a feed. I text TMD to see where the sunscreen is. Coconut looks at me and cries. I look at her, smile through a sigh, and the babies have a nap.

They wake up, I change diapers. I find the sunscreen and apply it. I go to get them shorts and me pants. I come in and Coco’s shirt is soaking. She somehow peed on it. I change her diaper and her shirt.

I finish Snort’s sunscreen and wrestle him into shorts. I look at Coco. I look at her nappy. It’s bulging. I change her nappy again. It’s totally pooptastic.I then put her in a new outfit that requires extra creaming as her shoulders are exposed.

Finally – it’s a bit before she’ll want to eat, he’s eaten, everyone has napped (except Mama, always except Mama), everyone is wearing sunscreen, etc. I load them into the pushchair and pack some water, a blanket for the ground, a map (ever the fucking optimist, I am), and sunhats. No nappies, no milk, no nothin’ we will not need in the next sixteen minutes.

At 11:25 we finally leave the house, an hour and a half after I started. We amble down the road, talk to the old shirtless man trimming his hedges, talk to the young man sitting on a bench in the park, and then like! a! real! mom! I load them onto the swings and push them. All by myself. A ‘big kid’ comes along and they are breaking their necks trying to see her, so I take them out of the swings and put them on a blanket with their water. I don’t even pretend we’re not gawking – they are both sitting staring at this kid and her parents, and I’m like, Well, yo, that’s how we roll.

I then load them back into the pushchair and walk home as I’m quite sore.  I talk again to the old guy – who I think is equally pleased to talk to another human, especially about his hedges (I imagine his wife/husband is like, ‘Shut up about the fucking hedges already!’) – and get home at 11:55.

Yes, it took me 1.5 hours to get ready for a 30 minute trip.

How did you spend your morning??

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4 Responses to “Negotiating twins.”

  1. Kate Says:

    Oh I remember those days and I only had pne baby to take care of! Your really doing so well, just a couple of months ago you wouldn’t of dreamed of being able to do that. I am proiud and pleased for you. Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

  2. Shilo Says:

    haha. I can totally relate.

  3. Andrea Says:

    I love this post because you capture exactly how our getting-out-of-the-house-edness goes. Only mine may or may not include colorful language which will need to be tamed soon due to baby talk-ed-ness.

    P.S. I love the word “wakinupedness”, can you tell? 😉

  4. Natasha Says:

    Yup sounds familiar here! It takes hours to get ready here, and it’s too hot to go out for any real length of time!

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