My sister told one of her Chinese colleagues about the boys.
“Twin boys” she gasped “every woman in China would like to be your
sister.” 2.5 billion Chinese can’t be wrong.
I am managing to breastfeed the twins together occasionally. This
is not easy; I fail to understand how other people manage to look so serene,
mind you, I note that they do all look indecent. I told my mother and she asked
“my goodness, do you feel like a cow?”. After a pause for
reflection, I said “no, more like a pig“.
We haven’t been out much yet. Partly because Michael had to stay
indoors until the weekend before last when he hit the 3 kilo mark,
partly because of the terrifying logistics involved. Also, we
were told that they would fit in the pram bit of our 3 in 1 thingy
until they were 4 months when we could transfer to the lightweight and
fab Maclaren. That turns out to be a snare and a delusion, there
is no way that they can both fit in the pram and I am reluctant to
shell out for a double pram for 3 or 4 months. I am going to
experiment today taking one in the sling and one in the pram.
Hold your breath for me.
And finally, Mr. Waffle has pointed out to me that the twins are 6
weeks old today not yesterday. It’s hard for me to concentrate
what with staying awake listening to the snuffling noises.
on 08 November 2005 at 10:56
Sweetie(s) given
on 08 November 2005 at 11:31
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on 08 November 2005 at 15:49
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on 08 November 2005 at 16:22
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on 08 November 2005 at 19:33
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on 09 November 2005 at 15:18
Minks, I fear so…
JD absolutely, extra pair of hands would be extremely useful.
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My shampoo is made with kiwi, kumquat and
fig. What on earth is this about? Washing-up liquid is available in “red berry”
for those who are tired of traditional lemon.
Very odd.
on 07 November 2005 at 19:34
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on 07 November 2005 at 21:02
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on 08 November 2005 at 08:11
JD, quite.
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on 08 November 2005 at 11:04
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on 08 November 2005 at 13:09
“Give me a raise or you’ll find less than a tangerine in your locker later”
Simple and effective :o)
Sweetie(s) given
on 08 November 2005 at 14:45
It’s all meant to seduce you. They don’t have Asparagus and Sprout Shampoo or Turnip and Cauliflower Conditioner.
Sweetie(s) given
Friar Tuck
on 08 November 2005 at 16:50
on 09 November 2005 at 15:14
UC, yum yum, turnip and cauliflower.
FT, excellent.
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Early Days
Since the arrival of the boys, the Princess likes to hear stories about when she was small(er) and while her grandparents were over, I told her the story of grandad’s lost underpants which I have previously blogged about but which I repeat below for your delectation:
My father-in-law, the captain of industry, resorted to handwashing. However, my mother-in-law determined that the capt’s clothes would never dry in the shower and put them on the balcony, from whence “a garment†drifted down into the private area of the guesthouse. A couple of days later I was witness to the exquisitely embarrassing moment when the lady of the house asked my poor mortified father-in-law whether the garment she was holding between outstretched finger and thumb belonged to him.
The Princess liked the story and now, regularly, when I put her to bed she says, “Tell me the story of grandad’s underpants again.”
By the by, I have found a pair of black men’s underpants nestling under the heater in the spare room. I wonder whose they are?
In other news, the boys are six weeks old today. The books tell us that we may confidently expect smiles from now on. I suspect that Faith and G are much more likely to get first smiles as they tend to gaze at the boys lovingly while feeding them while their nearest and dearest tend to read the papers. Oh have a heart, we’re still knee deep in newsprint from the parent-in-law visit and somebody has to read all those Guardians.
Example of dialogue with husband:
Me: Whenever I see you with one of the babies, I’m reminded of that bit from Hilary Clinton’s autobiography (which we listened to on tape while on holiday one Summer, NOT recommended, hugely tedious).
Him: The bit where she talks about the cold meat selection at Nelson Mandela’s inauguration?
Me: No.
Him: The bit where they fill the swimming pool in India with mineral water for her?
Me: NO.
Him:Oh alright the bit where Chelsea bites Bill on the nose to try to get his attention.
Comments
giftofthegab
on 07 November 2005 at 17:23
how do you know the pants belong to a black man? oh wait, i see. i’m also agog. happy 6 weeks!
jackdalton
on 07 November 2005 at 21:06
Probably Locote’s…
belgianwaffle
on 08 November 2005 at 08:10
Minks, er, it’s not 6 weeks, clearly my focus isn’t all it might be.
GoG, very funny, maybe my syntax does need some work though…
JD, I beg your pardon??
Efforts to make me the kind of person you could safely introduce to polite society continue apace. When I say anything
untoward, the Princess says “don’t say (insert appropriate swear word)
Mummy”. She seems to recognise the words
from the tone in which I say them and usually sheÂ’s right though the other day
she said “don’t say believe me Mummy” and I was able to reassure her that that
was entirely kosher. At breakfast with
her grandparents, while they were visiting, I was foolish enough to say “shag
it”.
“Don’t say shag it Mummy”
“What else can’t Mummy say?” asked an agent
provocateur and to my absolute horror my daughter proceeded as follows:
DonÂ’t say damn it Mummy
DonÂ’t say fuck it Mummy
DonÂ’t say feck it Mummy
DonÂ’t say God Almighty Mummy
DonÂ’t say Sweet Jesus Mummy
And was only shut up by being bundled from the
table by her mortified mother.
on 04 November 2005 at 09:56
Sweetie(s) given
on 04 November 2005 at 12:34
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Friar Tuck
on 04 November 2005 at 18:37
on 04 November 2005 at 19:33
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on 05 November 2005 at 07:55
Cue various adults purple-faced and weeping trying to stifle their mirth and my sister silently mouthing other obscenities at her partner – the guilty party.
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on 05 November 2005 at 12:00
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ladyjane
on 05 November 2005 at 15:49
on 07 November 2005 at 10:46
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on 07 November 2005 at 14:45
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Royal visit
The royal grandparents aside from allowing their sick daughter in law to sleep also bonded with their grandchildren and brought them mountains of presents. The Princess was delighted to have them here and the boys were fed (which is really the height of their demands at the moment). I did feel mildly guilty at one stage as grandma went off to the park with her crutch, the Princess and her buggy but I’Â’m a catholic, we have strategies for dealing with guilt.
I am gratified that my parents-in-law seem to enjoy my blog (hi guys). My father in
law, the captain of industy, pointed out that I donÂ’t seem to update when we have
people staying. I said “well, I suppose that IÂ’m busy doing other things”. “Yes”, said he “I notice that you didn’Â’t blog at all while your mother was over”. “Well, that might have been because I was in the hospital after having given birth”.
on 04 November 2005 at 03:41
He’s a captain of industry! You cannot expect him to be acquainted with all the technicalities of childbirth. Anyway, don’t they have wireless laptops or something for you to use in the hospital? Seems a colossal waste of time just lying around doing nothing.
Push. Breathe. Type. Repeat.
on 04 November 2005 at 09:28
OK, check out the gentlemen’s comments. May you both be reincarnated as mothers of twins. 
on 05 November 2005 at 07:46
But there is a great power there that can bring balance to The Force
Pog, now look what you’ve started. Jack, stop it.
Sorry waffley – I should’ve known … Tch. Boys.
Indeed you should, I hope that there will be no more in this vein from the lads but I sincerely doubt it.
Sick
All last week I had a sore throat but Friday to Tuesday it got really miserable and I couldnÂ’t swallow. Mercifully, the parents-in-law were here to baby mind and I was able to nap during the day but I hadnÂ’t really expected to spend most of their stay languishing in bed. Nights were particularly miserable and, at least once every night, I found myself standing at the microwave (heating a bottle), weeping (the pain, the exhaustion) and drooling (the inability to swallow) and hearing the boys wailing in the background. All is much better now though, however, if you subscribe to any religion please beg your gods to ensure that it is not passed on to any of my many children.
Incidentally, I stocked up on a number of over the counter remedies to try to address my symptoms, most of which were useless but especially useless was a throat spray rejoicing in the name of “Neogolaseptine®”. You can see, of course, why they decided on this as a registered trademark. It’s a name to conjure with really. In my mind’s
eye, I see them all brainstorming “what kind of name can we use which will inspire consumers with confidence, give them a clear idea what the product does and stick in their memories?” They must all have been delighted when they came up with Neogolaseptine.
on 03 November 2005 at 15:25
Poor Waffly. All sympathies. I’m revoltingly throaty and snotty too. But I don’t have three small children. Did I mention that you get all the sympathy?
on 03 November 2005 at 15:31
Ouch! poor you- that sounds truly miserable. Not to mention the Neogolaseptine… 2
Sweetie(s) given
on 03 November 2005 at 19:13
Thanks be that you’re back. I was afraid you were ill, after all that regular posting, and then NOTHING. Either that or that you had hired yet more help and were on a marathon bout of shoe shopping. Feel better!
on 03 November 2005 at 21:27
Lauren, like my daughter, I occasionally have difficulties stringing English sentences together.
Norah, you are kind and good. As are you Minks.
Kristin, I am touched by your concern and much better.
neogola sounds like near-goal, like they were watching a footie match and it came to them what to call it.
Really, that’s as likely an explanation as any.
