A friend of ours called round last Saturday and he
had had possibly the most embarassing experience ever that morning. He had gone for a swim and was walking round
the pool contemplating where to immerse himself when one of the lifeguards came
up to him and said “I’m sorry sir, I’m going to have to ask you to buy a new
swimsuit as that one is totally transparent at the back”.
Friar Tuck
on 22 October 2005 at 16:48
on 23 October 2005 at 04:33
*cringes*
Hopefully nobody made any cracks.
…..
OK OK, I’m leaving.
Sweetie(s) given
what’s so pathetic is that it took me all day to think that up.
on 24 October 2005 at 09:59
Sweetie(s) given
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https://www.belgianwaffle.net/2005/10/438/
I think I may have given my husband food
poisoning. I gave him frozen cannelloni on Thursday night. The Princess and I abstained
because it wasnÂ’t very nice (well, thatÂ’s why I didnÂ’t have any, sheÂ’s refusing
to eat on principle, thatÂ’ll show us for producing two babies) so he ate all of
ours as well. He spent Thursday night
throwing up and all day Friday asleep a shadow of his former self. You will be glad to hear that he now appears to be restored. Although I do feel bad that he was sick, I canÂ’t help
being relieved that the Princess and I restrained ourselves.
Friar Tuck
on 22 October 2005 at 16:47
on 24 October 2005 at 10:00
FT, 6000 years eh. Thank you Mr. Bush.
Sweetie(s) given
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https://www.belgianwaffle.net/2005/10/437/
Longstanding readers (hi Mum) will recall that
I had considerable difficulty breastfeeding the Princess. To be honest, I didnÂ’t rate my chances of
breastfeeding twins. I decided that I
wouldnÂ’t feel guilty about it. But I
do. The other night I dreamt (in the 20
seconds of sleep granted to me) that my babies were taken away from me because
I wasnÂ’t breastfeeding them. Funnily
enough, not by the militant breastfeeding lobby but by a woman who I know bottle
fed her baby. Call Dr. Freud. My guilt is in no way assuaged by reading in
the Observer that Tilda Swinton (actress and next door neighbour to the Glam
PotterÂ’s extraordinarily rich and, er, glam sister) breastfed her twins for 14
months. Maybe I should stop reading the
Observer, it only makes me miserable.
Before the boys were born, people asked me
whether I planned to breastfeed (right after theyÂ’d checked whether the twins
were IVF babies) and I used to joke “I’ll breastfeed one and feed the other
formula and see how they turn out”. I
didnÂ’t actually expect this to happen.
But it has. Daniel eats like
nobodyÂ’s business; breast, bottle, probably fish and chips, if offered. Michael is still trying to determine how
bottles actually work (despite this, on our recent visit to the paediatrician,
Michael had put on more weight than Daniel; heÂ’s presumably raiding the fridge
when weÂ’re not looking). So, during the
day, I breastfeed Daniel and give Michael formula. I also express a couple of bottles of breastmilk
for Michael. If youÂ’ve never seen a
breastpump in action, you may not understand why I prefer to do this without an
audience and spend my time scurrying from room to room with an odd contraption
attached to my breast trying to avoid G or Faith on the days they are here.
At night they both get formula. God knows what they put in that stuff but
compared to breastmilk, it really knocks them out. To digress slightly, this reminds me of a story
that my mother-in-law tells. She used
to be an air hostess in the 60s and when they had a mother and crying child on
board, they would offer to heat the babyÂ’s bottle. They would then add a tot of brandy to the
heated bottle and give it back to the unsuspecting mother whose baby would, of
course, be conked for the duration of the flight. Anyway, maybe they put brandy in the formula
– that would explain the
exorbitant cost. Formula feeding at night has led to the
problem of milk oversupply (oh come on, you know what I mean) putting me at
increased risk of mastitis – it’s not just for cows, you know – and making our
bed an even more pleasant place to be doused as it is in blood, sweat, tears,
formula, vomit, wee and now breastmilk too.
Please, donÂ’t let me put you off having children.
But feeding two babies, however you go about
it, is a little challenging. If itÂ’s not
one of them, itÂ’s both of them. So
youÂ’re either trapped under one feeding baby or panicking about how to feed both of them at once. My father describes being an anesthetist as
hours of tedium interspersed by moments of panic – it’s a bit like that. (By the by, while I’m dissing doctors, do you
like this? To be an orthopaedic surgeon
you have to be strong as an ox and twice as intelligent.)
But you know, despite all my moaning, it is
rather nice having two little babies, I mean even apart from the presents. I quite
enjoy peering adoringly at them. And, I realise
I am prejudiced here, they have very appealing little faces and a range of
entertaining expressions. And IÂ’m quite
looking forward to venturing out when Michael hits 3 kilos and showing them to
an appreciative public. And another
thing, mirabile dictu, my bump has retreated and I no longer look 6 months
pregnant. Really, you should have kids
of your own, theyÂ’re great.
on 21 October 2005 at 20:25
Sweetie(s) given
Friar Tuck
on 22 October 2005 at 04:30
on 22 October 2005 at 09:23
Sweetie(s) given
on 22 October 2005 at 14:27
JD, haha indeed.
FT, well, it would help to pay for your pension.
Well, Negrito, since we’re almost neighbours, I do think that this is most likely. Though you, as befits your status, live in the chic end of the neighbourhood.
Sweetie(s) given
on 22 October 2005 at 22:08
I am full of admiration for you, by the way, it sounds as though you’re coping really well with the two princes.
Sweetie(s) given
on 24 October 2005 at 09:55
Sweetie(s) given
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I like to listen to BBC Radio 4. Mr. Waffle comments that there is a part of
our kitchen that is forever England.
It was trying my loyalty pretty high recently with non-stop cricket
followed by non-stop political party conferences, but on the whole, I think
itÂ’s nifty.
However, I was surprised by the reporting
of events in Basra at the end of September (this goes for the World Service as
well as Radio 4). Essentially, as I
understand it, British troops in Basra bulldozed an Iraqi prison to spring
two of their men. But, to hear the
reports, it’s all “bad old Iraqis nearly killed two of our brave soldiers in
custody”. At no point has it been made
clear what the lads were in custody for – I think that they were “undercover
operatives”, so maybe we are just not meant to know. Anyway the Iraqis are a bit annoyed and
demanding an apology (and possibly some prison rebuilding) and the British are
very cross and refusing to provide same.
I know the situations arenÂ’t parallel etc. etc. but I wonder how it
would be reported on the BBC, if a foreign army bulldozed a prison in the UK to spring a couple of its men.
on 20 October 2005 at 16:25
(Also, the moon landings were faked…)
Sweetie(s) given
on 21 October 2005 at 10:07
Sweetie(s) given
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Mr. Waffle says that minding Daniel and Michael
is like barwork. During the day things
are quiet, ticking over, but quiet, then around six in the evening things
really start to get busy reaching a peak between 10.00 and 2.00. You then spend the morning washing bottles
which you have rescued from odd places (behind pillows, under beds etc.). Fascinating eh?
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Comments
on 18 October 2005 at 14:58
Sweetie(s) given
on 18 October 2005 at 19:13
Sweetie(s) given
on 19 October 2005 at 13:09
Well, Lauren, I have help and I can type one handed while breastfeeding (marvel, gasp).
Minks, today much better mercifully, thanks for sympathy.
Sweetie(s) given
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