A review of a recently studied training video…

Last week some readers may remember I described how there are few experiences I dislike more than going shopping with my wife for her underwear. Our most recent experience had been an uncomfortable ordeal.

Well that was nothing compared with what I faced the other night.

After a long week, Charlotte and I sat down in front of the television to a chicken stir-fry lovingly prepared by yours truly (straight out of Sainsbury’s packaging). The idea was to enjoy a relaxed evening of television while having supper.

I wasn’t even remotely aware of what Charlotte had in store. There was a bit of time before anything we both wanted to see came on so Charlotte asked if I minded us putting on a video she had just received giving training advice and tips on breast-feeding for twins. Without even hesitating (or thinking through what this might actually mean) I immediately jumped into supportive husband and father mode and agreed. You see, usually I’m not squeamish. I watch a lot of CSI, The Shield, Law and Order, ER, Casualty and other forensic, hospital and police investigation dramas. You get used to the gore after a while, complete with horrific squelchy sound effects of bodies and cadavers being chopped up. And you can even eat your supper in front of this without being uncomfortable.

However, no sooner had this particular video started playing than I felt a strong sense of unease. It was a home-made video which showed a mum with both her twins about to feed.

Nervously I started munching on my stir-fry, wondering what on earth I had let myself in for. Before I could fully prepare myself, the woman had sat down on her sofa and started unbuttoning and unclipping enough clothing to begin “the feed”. I’m probably not being very polite or pc here, but to say this woman was well-endowed is doing her bosoms a gross disservice (I’m guessing a size double G for Gigantic). I’m supposed to be looking at the twins and how skilfully she places them on cushions either side so she can feed them both at the same time. I should be studying how expertly this woman ensures her babies latch on quickly and easily (inspiring me to wonder why this video isn’t called Latch of the Day). Instead I find myself staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed in horror as she whips out her breasts and plants her babies mouths firmly onto them…

My stir-fry is getting cold.

I don’t care.

I’m not hungry any more.

It’s ridiculous, pathetic and I’m being stupid.

I know this is all about perfectly ordinary, natural routines.

But I can’t cope.

Lactation displays and stir-frys should never coincide.

Another lesson learned.

Give me bra shopping any day.

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Looks like it could be an induction

If there’s no sign of the twins before then they will be induced this week. That’ll be fun…

I am hastily trying to get myself organised - packing last minute things into bags for the hospital. Predominantly this means food. I seem to have provided for Charlotte and myself very well. If we’re there for four weeks our supplies should see us through comfortably whilst also allowing us to share a lot of provisions with other people on the ward. Maybe I’ve packed too much… no, I can’t have. Surely not. Me?

I’m trying to get last-minute business admin chores out the way too - I don’t think I’m going to be too effective in the next week or so. I have left a lot of white space in my diary and have warned clients and colleagues that I won’t be available for much of the time. I’m taking self-employed paternity leave as and when we need it which is easier to do when you’re self-employed and working from home a lot of the time. You just don’t get paid for it.

And I have got my IA (Immediate Action) drills listed so there should be no hiccups.

A few months ago I had imagined myself being so much more organised. I was hoping to read a book each week on parenting issues. I got stuck half way through The Toddler’s Owner Manual and should have put it to one side and read something else. Phrases like “Best laid plans…” spring to mind. But I have done reasonably well. I have increased my share of household chores gradually and am mentally preparing for the next few weeks where I will be responsible for cooking most, if not all, of the meals, as well as more Monty-sitting and playing.

I know that whatever I do I’m still going to feel like I’ve been hit by a train. But I think I’ve done as much as I could reasonably be expected to. We will see. No doubt I will soon be moaning in this blog about all the things I wish I’d done. Never mind.

I’ve been so much more relaxed about this pregnancy than when Charlotte was carrying Monty. She’s handled this one so well. She’s hardly been ill and it’s really only been the last fortnight or so where she’s been very tired and eager to move things forward. When I stop to think about it, I’m actually quite excited.

The calm before the storm maybe.

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We’re now into the final straight. A few more days and if there is still no sign of the twins then we will be induced at the hospital. So this will be the last antenatal photo on TwinTimes of the twins. Exciting stuff. We are definitely ready now!

eBay.co.uk

Orient-Express in Italy. Book online.

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One of the biggest challenges Monty faces is learning to share. I know he’s not the only child in the world who has this difficulty, but it’s fascinating watching how children react when learning how to interact with each other. Monty has gone through various stages including fighting off anyone even thinking of approaching his toys. Whenever I mention sharing to him I can tell from his facial expressions that he is less convinced of the wisdom of sharing than I am. He has this look which is a mixture of disbelief and also of total bewilderment. “Why would anyone want to share their toys with someone else, even their best friend?? I mean, really, why would they?”

So when one of Monty’s friends came over to play the other day and both wanted to draw on a kind of etch-a-sketch toy we have, I had a hard job persuading them they they could both use the gizmo. I had actually thought that maybe they would take it in turns. But in the end, even I had to compromise and let both of them draw at the same time. I decided that in these circumstances it would be best to find a place where I could closely monitor the proceedings. (see demonstration photo).

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I was shown this site by some friends over the weekend. It’s got nothing to do with twins, however, it’s a fantastic story of travel with an unusual spin.

A guy is travelling around the world dancing for his digital cam at every opportunity - he’s visited over 55 countries and the collection of videos he has makes very entertaining viewing. For extra fun check out his Video Outtakes.

Check out the site here.

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One of Man’s most horrific experiences - well for this man anyway

Men often get a lot of flack for not wanting to go shopping with their partners. I’m very lucky that Charlotte has always been very good at understanding that I can’t stand shopping. In fact I don’t think she likes it any more than I do so usually it isn’t a problem. We do as little as possible and use the internet for home shopping whenever we can.

However, last Saturday Charlotte wanted to get a feeding bra from Debenhams. These things have to be fitted because of sizing differences. I’m a bloke so I didn’t know that. In fact I didn’t know that feeding bras existed. My mind was boggling.

So we went to Debenhams and no sooner had we arrived at the bra and knicker floor than a feeling of doom descended on me.

By the way, I’ve always hated the words knickers and pants to describe underwear. However, both words are excellent forms of cursing. Shouting out “Oh knickers!” when you slam you hand in a car door is much funnier than anything else. And when describing a rubbish movie, for example, it’s better to refer to it as being “complete pants” than saying it wasn’t as good as the novel. For me the best slang word I’ve learned for underwear is one that I only discovered a few years ago, that is - Shreddies. To put it in context - “I’m going away for a month so I’ll need to pack at least one spare pair of shreddies” Or two if you get self-conscious.

Anyhow, back to the story. We arrive at the Debenhams shreddies department and I am suddenly bombarded with names like Jasper Conran and La Senza among others. And gazillions of different pairs of shreddies and bras of all shapes, sizes, colours and descriptions. To be fair, if the floor was completely empty and if I knew nobody was watching maybe my experience of being in a women’s shreddies shop would be different. But I’m not alone here, am I? There are other people here browsing - womenfolk. And although I can’t actually tell, I get the feeling they are looking at me suspiciously. I can feel their eyes burning into my skull. I feel a childish sense of awkwardness about it. I should have arranged to meet Charlotte in a cafe afterwards. She doesn’t need me to be here. My heart starts racing as I begin to panic. I don’t know where to look. I’m a bloke in a women’s shreddies department so I can’t make eye contact with anyone, smile or say hello - they’ll think I’m a pervert, I just know it. So I say nothing and follow Charlotte gingerly around the shop until we find an assistant who can measure Charlotte up for a bra.

We find the fitting rooms and fortunately so far there aren’t many people in the queue. So I relax my guard a little. Charlotte takes a seat next to a rack covered in packets of undies. My eye glances at some of the brands and types of shreddies on offer. I’ve never heard of Spanx Power Panties with Tummy Control before - I mean what the heck is that all about? Nor have I ever learned about Trinny and Susannah’s Original Magic Knicker. Magic? In what way? No, I can’t even begin to think. In fact I can’t even make a joke about it without blushing. Panic is setting in now. In a minute one of the cubicles will become free and Charlotte will abandon me in this alien and terrifying environment. I will be all alone, lost in a wilderness of shreddies and potentially hostile beings (womenfolk).

And then the moment comes when a woman exits one of the cubicles clutching a handful of shreddies which look too small for even the tiniest barbie doll and marches over to the counter to pay for them. The assistant we met before comes over and disappears into a cubicle with my wife to measure her. And I’m overwhelmed with how much I’m learning about women all in one go here. Blokes just never, ever, ever go into cubicles with other blokes in shops to be measured up for anything. Why? Because we’d get beaten up.

The nightmare worsens when a few other customers - female ones - decide to join the queue for the fitting rooms. I’m feverishly studying my feet and the carpet desperately avoiding looking into anyone’s eyes. I’m sure they’re wondering what on earth I’m doing here, sitting next to a rackful of Power Panties. I’m half expecting one of them to call the cops.

After an agonising wait of perhaps 3 or 4 minutes Charlotte surfaces from the fitting room cubicle, totally unaware of my anxiety and discomfort. She’s found something she wants. I move close to her, just so that all the suspicious customers around me will know that I’m no weirdo, just a poor miserable husband who stupidly went bra shopping with his wife.

She pays.

We leave.

Lesson learned.

I’m not doing that again…

Ever.

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In just a few days’ time the twins will be born. So we’re trying to make all those last minute preparations that will help everything go as smoothly as possible - well, that’s the plan anyway.

Charlotte has been eating quantities of pineapple. Apparently this makes a difference in speeding up the arrival of newborns. Although I strongly suspect this and many measures like it are all old wives’ tales I’m not going to say that out loud, am I? Be supportive, Luke, I tell myself.

She’s also getting acupuncture every few days too - because sticking pins in her is likely to encourage the twins along.

And the old Rasberry Leaf Tea drinking never fails, does it? Well, apart from when we had Monty two weeks late.

It seems like it won’t be long before we’re going back to the burning wand treatment we used when we discovered that one of the twins was breached. Maybe it was that which righted the twin or maybe it was the upside down resting position which Charlotte assumed on the sofa. Who knows?

With Hallowe’en next week at least I won’t feel so stupid if I’m caught cooking up a cauldron of bat ears, stinging nettles and snails trying to concoct a voodoo style poultice for Charlotte’s tummy.

Basically we’re trying anything and everything so Charlotte doesn’t have to carry the twins around for much longer.

We did another photoshoot of her tummy at the weekend - results on display here. 36 weeks down and not long to go.

Really, we are ready now…

(Luke whistles impatiently and drums his fingers on the desk)

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Monty was recently photographed for our local NCT magazine and we were

lucky to meet an excellent photographer called Siobhan Barlow, who took

some outstanding photos of our little one. Here they are:

If you want to get some family portraits done I’m sure Siobhan can do an excellent job for you too.

Click here to visit Siobhan’s website.

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OK, I’m no great boat designer or builder, but when the Good Ship Iggle Piggle set sail across our living room floor do you think anybody cared??

I had just opened a flatpack box from Ikea and was trying to follow the instructions to build a double chest of drawers and all these bits of cardboard, polystyrene and synthetic sheeting fell out (along with approximately 4000 screws of varying shapes and sizes, dowels, plugs and bits of mdf).

The chest of drawers took about one hour and so did the boat. And I know which one Monty thinks was worth building.

The Iggle Piggle boat is now harboured in our living room and has already made several voyages around various (dry) parts of the house, avoiding near shipwreck several times.

The things we do….

After that, Daddy needed a jolly good nap nap.

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Check out this website I found the other day, created by another twin parent.

Keeping me Sane

Deb, the creator and artist extraordinaire, does the most fantastic murals, height-charts, clocks, boxes and nameplates. She’s clearly a very talented painter. Very reasonably priced, her ideas are superb. Have a look at the murals particularly - if your kids like Peter Pan they’ll love having the whole Never Never Land experience created especially for them. I know I sound like a cheesey advert here, but I’m so uniquely un-talented I just fall over with admiration for anyone who has such dedication to do something like that.

Anyhow, I hope you like Deb’s work as much as I do.

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