Posts Tagged ‘mil’

Massive shout out to single parents, seriously.

November 11, 2009

I have a great baby voice. It is super enthusiastic, chirpy, suitably high pitched. Why, this morning I had both babies squirming in delight. What was I saying?

‘I’m gonna punch your big fat Nana right in her nose, yes I am, I’m gonna punch her!’ They thought this was hilarious.

What, you don’t say this sort of shit to your kids? From what I’ve found out about incubation periods (two days) and who you catch it from (you’re contagious if you feel like shit), we deffo caught our sicknesses from Big. Fat. Stupid. Nana. (Can you hear the cooing way in which I can say this? And how every sentence sounds like a question due to the lilt at the end? No, it’s not at alllll obnoxious, I assure you.)


It started on Monday night for the middle of the night feed. I woke up as TMD started Snort, and was merrily chatting away at her.  She suddenly thrust him at me and muttered, ‘I was terribly sick about a half hour ago. I can’t do this.’ She fell into an immediate and deep sleep. She was so frickin’ pale. She is still mega mega sick, took her first Tamiflu dose last night.

Compadre, with no questions asked, jumped onto a train from The City and came out here to The Country so he could go pick up her anti-virals. I just love him so much and feel so honored to know him, let alone have him be our children’s non-god godfather. They are lucky little pumpkins. Anyway.

I’ve been on solo twin care duty since about 3 am late Monday night. It is better and worse than you would think it is. Except that now little Coconut is coughing, coughing, coughing. She had some mega throw ups last night. Neither baby seems sick, per say (excepting the coughing and sneezing). Coconut isn’t quite her cheerful self, but then Snort has somehow morphed into The Most Cheerful Baby On The Planet. So maybe he stole some of her good humour? Can twins do that?

We didn’t get to bed till after midnight last night. It was a tricky evening, and probably because I was so worn out. I can normally count on TMD jumping right in once she’s home, and we’ve got it sorted that she always does middle of the night feeds unless they both need to be fed at the same time. I was so worried they would need that last night, because we’re keeping TMD away from the babies. (She is too weak to help feed them anyway.)  She slept on the couch, which appears to have broken her back.

It’s all a bit spooky because she never gets sick. And even if she is feeling a bit off colour, she refuses to admit it. She has transformed to someone who is sleeping hours at a time, alternates between being pale and quite flushed, and actually moans in pain when she is awake. Not nice. Still, she admits she feels like absolute hell this morning, but she doesn’t look as sick. She was also awake out here for about 40 minutes, which is a world record.

So, in conclusion, fuck you Nana. Fuck you real bad.

SHIT. Coconut coughing again – every time she does, large amounts of spit up accompany it.

‘Imma fuck  up your Nana, Imma fuck her up hardcore, yes I am, yes I am!’


Edit: Fuck. Snort just threw up massively bad. If there is a god of twin parents out there, a god of lone care givers, I hope they/it/he/she are on my side. I hope I can care for two throwing up three month olds. Today is their three month birthday, so perhaps the birthday god will also help us out. Oh, and the god of polka dot pajamas.

No one hurts you like family.

November 10, 2009

The online pandemic site has accessed TMD as having Swine Flu. She’s been assigned an anti-viral course, and we are waiting to see if Sil or Bil can go pick it up for us tonight. By other people’s standards she’s probably not too bad, but she never EVER gets sick.

She has been asleep the whole day. Held Snort once for about two minutes before she felt too weak to continue. Fuck, eh?


Cutting the mustard.

November 10, 2009
  • Went to MIL’s this weekend – our first big trip with Coconut and Snort. All went well, except MIL didn’t bother to tell us she was raging sick. Now TMD is locked in the bedroom after being sick all night (this is the second time in ten years she has been sick), my throat hurts, and Coconut has decided that she really doesn’t need to eat. Coughing, coughing. All of this is reeeeeeeeally convenient because they are due for their second set of jabs tomorrow and can’t get them if they are sick.
  • I ordered two Didymos wraps yesterday, Katja and Simon. FIL was going to get us cotbeds for the birth gift, but we’ve received another free cot off of freecycle and will stick with two cots. Both are still shoehorned into the same cot in our room at present. We don’t want them to move out. Anyway, he’s getting the wraps and the mattress for the new cot as the updated baby gift.
  • Lots to say about babywearing. More later.
  • Crazy ass healthy visitor coming today for their three month check up. Going to weigh and measure them too. I’m curious, because they seem like behemoth babies to me.
  • Okay. Both fidgety and cry-ish a bit. Damn you MIL. And then you have the nerve to say, ‘I was sick,but I’m fine now. This isn’t a cough, it’s a tickle in my throat’ as you HACK UP A LUNG.

Lots more later. I have oodles of pics I need to upload as well.

6 weeks 4 days after giving birth, an update.

September 26, 2009

Today is day one of Gina Ford’s twins routine – TMD’s baby for the day is Snort, and I’ve got Coconut. Tomorrow we swap. The idea is that we follow the routine, but it’s more gentle for the babies because the one who is waiting has someone there to soothe him/her. Don’t know how we’ll get on with this routine, but are going to do it the whole weekend. I really, really wish Mil wasn’t going to be here today.

I’m reading a Winnicot book (perhaps all my counselling training shall soon rear its ugly head in regards to the psychological development of babies), and it is making me more and more ready for her to be gone! We are not going to let her feed today, because it takes her upwards of an hour (or more) per baby, what with the copious and mental winding.

The other thing I’ve done this morning (as TMD is shhing and soothing away in the bedroom, convincing the babies that yes, we really do think they should have a snooze) is dig out my old Weight Watchers book. I did the little quiz to see how many points per day I should be eating. I’m not saying I’m going weight-crazy or anything, but I am thinking about how to make sure I am eating enough of the right foods. Pregnancy and early parenthood have fucked with me. I also weighed myself, just out of curiousity.

I am exactly the same weight as I was when I started Weight Watchers a few years ago. For those of you newish to the blog, I lost about 60 pounds then. I find it odd (and exciting?) that I weigh the same now. Perhaps it is a good omen, and all things considered, I did pretty well considering it was twins! When I checked out of the hospital, I was 19 pounds lighter after giving birth. (I gained 50 pounds exactly during pregnancy….yes, from a higher weight than my final WW one. Shoot me.) I have also lost 5 pounds since coming home – probably due to the fact that I exist on cereal and diet coke.

I know a major part of my recovery is going to be fitness. Pilates is on the agenda – like I have time to pop in a DVD and exercise? I need to strengthen my core muscles to help my back and hips. My pelvis is still jackity wackity, and I DO NOT want to have surgery (though I will start asking questions if I reach 6 months post-partum and am still all broken). Bottom line: I need to be able to walk, so I can push the pram in case we need to go to the doctor’s or whatever. I may not be able to do a load of muscle exercises now, though I am dutifully doing what the physio has proscribed, but losing some weight would make it easier on my joints as well.

And let’s not forget my legs: after sevenish months of not walking, it has been difficult to move around the flat. My legs are finally feeling normal and like they can support my body, so yay!


Snort is now out of bed and in his bouncer in the nice, bright lounge. Oh, Gina.

End of summertime, and the living is (?) easy.

September 20, 2009

Think I have emailed or facebooked everyone who wanted old blog/baby name stuff. If I forgot you, please kick me in the ass in the comments section. I’m sorry.

Things going well today – such a relief to have a day at home with TMD and the babies. I have officially decided on bloggy names for them, and am also working on a new introduction page. Exciting stuff. I wanted to unveil their blog names with an entry for each of them, and pics for each, but fuck if I have time for that! (Don’t say ‘f’, you GD idiot.)

Baby Girl (aka Torre) = Coconut

Baby Boy (aka Mano) = Snort

I am fairly certain all this name chopping and changing means I am officially crazy, but again. Who cares. I probably AM crazy. I woke up sometime last night (must have been fairly early as TMD was still in the kitchen.)…

I was absolutely positive I was holding Snort. I could feel him breathing in my arms, could feel his feet, etc. Problem? No head. I was gingerly feeling around in the covers for his face, getting more and more freaked out because it was not there, until I started keening for TMD in a panic-ridden voice. She ran in and tried to reassure me – apparently – that Snort was in the cot, and Coconut was still in the lounge. I – apparently – kept feeling for him, mumbling, ‘He’s here, I know he is. Where is his head? The blankets are smothering him.’

This is about the level we are both functioning on most of the time, but especially in the nighttime. Last night was also special because we had our first fight in about 432523 years. It was an interesting thing, happening everytime we got up for Baby Nighttime Funhouse Of Horror. It was mainly me sobbing about her mother, and being ravingly crazy lady mad that TMD had not uninvited Mil from being here.

TMD called Mil today to uninvite her for the final week, and lo and behold, Mil was already on side. She planned to ask tomorrow if we minded if her hubby came up that final week, and they would catch the train into the city, troll around our local area, etc. Essentially leaving me, Coconut, and Snort alone except when popping in so Grandpa could see them again. Hopefully she won’t feel all wounded and hypersensitive that we called her first, but jesus. I actually have had nightmares for the past two nights in a row about her being here. It’s not her, per say – though the obsessive baby winding is making me FUCKING CRAZY INSIDE – I would probably be this way about anyone being here so long.

I am officially my mother, who got freaked out about people being in ‘the family space.’ While I thought she was obnoxious and crazy, I am now a fully paid member of the Family Space Club. Emphasis on immediate family only.

Hope you all are having a good weekend. We are – Meg and Nic came to visit yesterday (we heart them hardcore), and we also got their baby passport pictures taken. Country B is reasonable about baby pictures, but Country A wants babies alert, eyes open and staring right at the camera, head straight, no hands supporting them, in a natural expression. Yeah. That being said, we got the pictures – and I managed to push their pram for the first time ever!!! My crotch is not thanking me for it today, but it felt amazing.

I also got my nicey nice gift from TMD for carrying and birthing the babies – I will have to take a pic and post it as it is gorgeous. And, actually, every mother, pregnant woman, or woman who hopes to be pregnant will want a link to the company website.

Both babies asleep now.

I am still in my nightgown (it’s 4:16pm) – I have to wear clothes as I am still leaking? Wtf? Leaking being not only my still-bleeding vajayjay, but my left boob. I had a dream last night that it was shooting as hard as a firehose. (Last night was eventful, you see.)

I think I am going to go beg a bathtime, read, and shower. Tomorrow we have to leave the house practically before dawn to drive into the city – we have to go to the Embassy to do all the Country A-related things. I am going to have to really live up my cripple status and work my crutches to ensure TMD is allowed in. Afterwards, we may drop into Operation Fingerpaint to have Joy meet the babies.

Busy, busy.

Why can’t I stop writing? I miss it.

Love to all.

Drive by pooping.

September 18, 2009

It’s me, g. Yo yo yo, check one two three.

Not sure how long I have till Baby Girl needs to eat, or Mil appears. Last night we chickened out on asking her not to come back in the fourth week, but TMD had a chat with her about how in that week I need whole days alone on my own – giving suggestions on how she could make herself scarce. Feel a bit like an asshat because this lady is paying a lot of money to stay locally, and also clearly wants to help her grandbabies and me as much as possible. Nervous how she will be today, following yesterday’s conversation.

In other news, I’ve got a wicked cold. Baby Girl got it a bit and has recovered, and now Baby Boy is so congested he sounds like he’s been smoking a pack a day for the last twenty years or so. Right now both are sleeping in bouncers at my feet – a sweet sight, and a pleasure to the ears. Have lots and lots of pictures to put up, still will email those of you wanting baby names or link to old blog (leave a comment with your email address if you do!), and also going to have a general tidy up. This blog seems to be my only ‘me space’ at the moment, and I feel very relaxed and happy when I am pottering around.

Today I am also googling things like ‘twin diaper bag’, etc etc. Anyone know of a decent diaper bag with lots of pockets – and big enough for two? I don’t think twins means a bag twice the size necessarily, but definitely need something stury and spacious. TMD is using one of our backpacks, and I can’t get on with that. Everything shoved into one giant area? Fucking hell, man. I need me some organisation.

Crap. One tissue left?!? Need to go on the hunt for more before a baby wakes up…


September 14, 2009

Okay, kids, will send links to my last blog to those who requested it asap – tomorrow? And if you wade through all that, there is more. Momma been blogging a long time.

In the meantime, I just ranted about Mil to TMD. We have a plan in place. Again, will try to update tomorrow. It’s a bit manic as they are getting weighed and stuff in the morning, then I have physio in the afternoon.

It is a (sick) relief to read that other people also have problems with their Mils. MY Mil is the sort of lady who takes great offence at the smallest thing, and then is wounded for the next forty years. I hear the same stories over and over – all of them make her sound crazy. I am SO POLITE.

I ignore the small stuff, but some stuff she does actually hurts the babies. Remind me to tell you about the fucking hats. Ridiculous.

Ventfully yours,


PS – I reply to all your comments in my head. I also read your blogs. I am just shit for time, particularly when I have to be on high alert to be able to participate in my own children’s lives. Mil has GREAT intentions, just too fucking many of them. She is now also mocking my mother.  Nighty night.