Can Being Twins Ever Hold Your Twins Back?

Yesterday I had a parents’ evening-type meeting thingy (there’s probably a better term for it than that 🤣) with Cora’s keyworker at preschool (Henry’s is in a few days time). The only question I really had for her was about how C is getting on socially. I know her speech, understanding and physical development are really good for her age (which they confirmed) but I have been wondering how she is with other children. She’s a very chatty and sociable little girl, and when we go on playdates, she interacts and plays with other kids really nicely. But I just had a feeling that this may not quite be the case at preschool.

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Breakthrough or Fluke?

I could actually cry.
Yesterday we had a little breakthrough with Henry. To anyone else, this probably will not seem like a big deal in the slightest. But for us it was kinda huge. I managed to do a short walk (literally two minutes) from the car to a local softplay, and back again after, with no buggy AND NO REINS. And no twins – ha just kidding. To most other parents, even those with twins of a similar age, this is probably just normal. But for us, it definitely isn’t.

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Discipline – WTAF?

Firstly, I’m not even sure whether I like the word ‘discipline’ really- it just sounds a bit… harsh somehow? Maybe that’s where we’re going wrong 🙈🤣 But I’m not too sure what else to call it… ‘trying to teach them not to behave like feral, out-of-control little brats?’ 🙈 Because to be quite honest, this is what the twiglets behave like a large amount of the time, especially when we’re at home.

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How Do You Know If What You’re Feeling Is Normal?

This is a question I’ve been asking myself basically since the day the twiglets were born. I felt utterly and completely overwhelmed in those first few weeks, even months, and constantly found myself wondering ‘is this normal?’ In the very early days, when we first brought our tiny bundles home, the midwives and health visitor were keeping a very close eye on me as they were concerned about my emotional state. I talked in previous blog posts about how I was pretty traumatised by their birth, and the problem with this is that you have no time whatsoever to make sense of it and come to terms with it – you’re immediately thrust into the toughest job of your life, with more responsibility than you’ve ever dealt with before. Not to mention the fact that my undercarriage was in tatters, I was desperately and futilely attempting to produce milk and get even one baby to stay on a tit for longer than five seconds, and I was a ball of raging hormones. When you put it like that, then maybe the fact that I could barely get a sentence out without bursting into tears was normal – I still don’t know and I don’t think I ever will…

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Bedtime Battles – a.k.a. GO THE F**KEDY F**K TO SLEEP!

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I’m not too sure what the point of this post is going to be – in fact I’m pretty sure there isn’t one. Basically I just wanted to have a great big f**k-off rant about how utterly SHIT the twiglets are at going to bed at the moment.

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2018 – Getting some ‘me’ back

I’ve never been particularly hot on New Years Resolutions. Mainly because I find that the more set on achieving something I am, the more likely I am to rebel against myself so that I don’t achieve it – queen of self-sabotage, me 🙈 For example, I’m not the type of person who can really go ‘cold turkey ‘ with things – it just doesn’t generally work for me. So cutting things out completely will just make me really desperately want those things and I won’t be able to stick to it – it’s usually much better for me to make more gradual changes.

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So What If You Don’t Stand Out?

One of the things that stops me blogging as often as I’d like (along with insufficient hours in the day, laziness and sleep deprivation to the point that I can’t actually formulate a coherent sentence – yes they’re 2 and a half, no they don’t sleep through 😬) is the fear that what I’m writing is nothing special. There are just so soooo many bloggers out there with something more interesting to say, or a better way of wording things or a cleverer writing style than me. I’m not saying that as one of those compliment-fishing things when you then want everyone to say ‘oh no you’re amazing’ etc etc – I just see it as a fact. The blogging market is positively saturated with talented writers, many of whom are charismatic or entertaining or hilarious or all three, or who lead a really interesting lifestyle, or who are experts in something they can dish out advice in – basically they have some sort of USP which makes them stand out and be unique. I, on the other hand, am a bit socially awkward (actually a lot but I’ve got better at hiding it 🤣). I’m not a trendy person – I don’t keep up with the latest fashions; in fact, most of my wardrobe is either threadbare crap that I’ve had since I was like sixteen or baggy shapeless entities bought post-babies to hide the mum tum. I certainly don’t have a glamorous, beautifully-styled Insta-friendly show-home – Instagram would recoil in horror at the sight of my spare room bursting with clutter or my poorly hoovered kitchen floor 🙈 I wouldn’t describe myself as especially funny or an amazing writer or an authority on any particular subject – at the moment, if I can name what day of the week it is, I’m impressed with myself 🙈 So on the face of it, I lead a pretty average sort of a life really 😊 Yes I have twins, but there are even squillions of amazing bloggers with those too! 😂 I would describe myself as normal. (I mean, with a bit of crazy thrown in, but everyone has that, deep down, right? 🤣)

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My Birth Story – Part 2 – Delivery

So… My waters had broken (I think just those of Twin 1 – Henry 🤔) There was meconium in the waters so they monitored his heart rate closely. I had two big bands across my bump connected to a machine which was constantly churning out a printout of their heart rates. A lot of that morning is a bit of a blur really but I remember walking up and down the corridor a lot and having an internal examination to check my cervix which was about the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced. I was transferred down the corridor to a delivery room where I met my midwife Susan – the most beautiful, amazing gem of a woman, who was 33 weeks pregnant herself but hopped about like a sprightly gazelle, speaking in soft, lilting Irish tones. I was hooked up to an internal heart monitor – I think to ensure they were getting an accurate reading of each twin’s heartbeat – this involved an electrode being inserted and placed on Twin 1’s scalp. I really can’t remember the timings of everything at all but I also had an epidural at some point. I’d always known I would be having an epidural as the consultant strongly advised it when we discussed having a natural delivery. I was on the gas and air but I think I must be about the only person who hated it! I really disliked the lightheaded feeling it gave me so I didn’t use it properly. It was so difficult to stay still while they administered the epidural, especially during contractions. Anyway that was fine and I think at some point in the afternoon I slept for a while but again, I can’t remember when. I wasn’t allowed any food due to the high risk of needing a C-section but I ended up pleading (I am not a nice person when I get hangry!) and was eventually given a tiny, slightly manky banana to keep me going 😂

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