A while ago I was forewarned by a fellow poster on Twinsclub that after the twins were born I should expect to have to leave my blog aside as life would be too busy. At the time I didn’t see the problem. Why would I? I already have a career and a family, I thought, what difference can two more babies make?

Ha ha ha, you idiot, I now think to myself. How I laugh at my naivety in the face of what would become an overwhelming and huge life adjustment. And I’m still not adjusted yet (I’m sure many family and friends will agree). I realise that underneath my apparently calm exterior I really haven’t a clue just how topsy turvy my life would become.

One day I will probably look back on these times and be amazed at how completely ignorant I was at what was going on all around me. But maybe I will also recognise that this oblivion to the surrounding chaos was essential for my survival.

Anyhow, this is why my blogging has been more intermittent lately. Nevertheless, I’ve managed to post a few up on here and I’ll keep on doing so as long as I can.

My way of coping at present is to just put one foot in front of the other and try to tick off as many of my daily to-do’s as possible and not be overly concerned where I fail or fall short. I know that this phase (and that’s surely all it is) won’t last more than maybe twenty or thirty years tops. All I have to do is keep facing forward and ticking off the to-do’s.

Have kids. Tick
Blog. Tick
Sleep. Tick.
Eat. Tick.
Work. Tick.
Retire. Tick.

Watch the children grow up, graduate, leave home and get married and have their own children….. (half a tick. Well. We have at least made a start, after all.)

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A while ago I posted a question on the Twinsclub forum trying to find out what kind of vehicle we should get now we have three children. We had a lot of feedback and responses to our question and in the end we got an extremely good deal on an MPV. We hadn’t originally intended to buy new (I’m seriously opposed to buying new with cars knowing all about depreciation once the car has been driven out of the showroom). Nevertheless, thanks to us knowing a man who knew someone etc we decided to buy a new Citroen C8. It feels like a bus to drive, much wider than our Golf GTI or Nissan Micra and much higher up.

I collected it from Newcastle on Saturday and had a fun drive home in it testing out the sat nav, stereo, 6th gear and cup-holder. All in all it was a good buy.

So a lot of people asked me to let them know what we decided to buy. The key influencing factors were:

vehicle needs to have sliding side doors both sides (this narrowed down our search considerably, and cut out the older versions of the Toyota MPV)

vehicle needs to have decent stereo and coffee-mug holder (I had to compromise on the cup-holder a bit as the Citroen one isn’t great).

vehicle needs to have a bit of punch, i.e. as we do a few long car journeys we need something which can handle motorway driving at 70 mph with ease. We don’t want to have the feeling we are caught in a tornado every time we get in the overtaking lane.

Vehicle needs to be in as low insurance category as possible. This discounted the Chrysler Voyager. We also heard the Chrysler Voyager has a reputation for things going wrong and being costly to repair.

Vehicle needs to have 7 seats and a sensible configuration of seats in the back. Amazingly the Voyager’s configuration was 2-2-3 from front to back. The Citroen is 2-3-2 which works much better for us.

Overall, we’re delighted with the car and we know we’ll have it for at least ten more years. Now all we have to do is learn how to drive it without crunching it when we go through narrow gaps.

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The midwives have now signed us off and are now happy we’re heading in the right direction and don’t need their support any more.

Their last task was to weigh the twins so Charlotte, our excellent maternity nurse Odette and I had made bets on the weight of the little ones. Charlotte was first (Mummy’s prerogative I guess) as the final weights were:

Tilly Xanthe 7 lbs

Scott Tyser 7 lbs

Still a good deal smaller than Monty when he was born (8 lbs) but a lot bigger than they were last week.

And they seem to be putting on weight at healthy rate.

I sometimes lift up Monty or look at him and realise that I don’t really remember him being so small. He’s growing up way too fast.

Wait a minute… haven’t I heard every parent I’ve ever known tell me that all my life?

eBay.co.uk

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Names in our family are fairly straightforward. Daddy is Daddy, Mummy is Mummy, Monty is Monty and both Tilly and Scott go by their names as you would expect.

The other day I came downstairs from my office and walked into the living room where Charlotte and Monty were watching television. Monty looked up at me and with a jovial smile said “Hello, Luke!”

This was one of those times when I was literally stunned by his words. He can be really funny. He knew this one was a winner too - I tickled him mercilessly telling him what a cheeky monkey he was. He kept replying that no, he wasn’t a cheeky monkey, he was Monty. And then added a few more Hello Luke’s for comic effect.

Unlike his father, Monty doesn’t wear out a good joke through constant over-repetition. He hasn’t done it since, making it all the more memorable. And he is quick. When he sees something is funny and gets a laugh he works it well to maximum effect. And then he’s off looking for new material.

It’s hard being continually upstaged by a two year old. I just hope I have the good grace to let him become the comedian he is undoubtedly becoming.

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OK, it’s time for me to address this age-old “Why, Daddy” problem and my utterly ridiculous and childish attempts at a suitable resolution. It always starts innocently enough before disintegrating into a verbal ping pong match. A few days ago I had a fine example of how the conversation with Monty goes while driving to Richmond Park for our weekly run.

We were driving along quite happily, listening to “Chug Chug” (Monty’s name for the first Tin Pan Annie cd). On a stretch of what is usually an empty road at that time of the morning, I had to slow down and wait for a scaffolding lorry ahead to reverse around a corner and park before I could go ahead. Monty pointed at the lorry and said, emphatically “Look, Daddy, that lorry’s going backwards”.

“Yes, it is”, I agreed.

And then it started…

MONTY: Why’s it going backwards, Daddy?

DADDY: Because it’s going to park in that street there.

MONTY: Why, Daddy?

DADDY: Because it’s going to unload the scaffolding.

MONTY: Why, Daddy?

DADDY: Because some people want to put a new roof on their house. (Bit of a guess)

MONTY: Why, Daddy?

DADDY: Because they let it fall into a poor state of disrepair (I had committed myself to answering every question to his satisfaction until I wore him out, even if it meant taking a few liberties)

MONTY: Why, Daddy?

DADDY: Because they just don’t understand the value of their property and now they’re having to pay the price for their neglect (not necessarily a bare-faced lie; let’s call it creativity in motion)

MONTY: Why, Daddy?

DADDY (Pausing for dramatic effect and then, deliberately and with the utmost sincerity) Because, my boy, we all have to pay for our sins eventually…

You see? Parenting can be so much fun!

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When it’s a Dressing Gown.



Daddy, in his gigga with Tilly and Scott

You know how children develop nicknames for some words or phrases they can’t pronounce? Well, one of my favourite ‘Monty’ words which replaced ‘dressing gown’ was ‘Gigga’. No idea how that came about but it was so persistently used that eventually I gave up trying to persuade him that in our house we all wore dressing gowns. I fact, it wasn’t long before we all started wearing giggas too.

I suppose we hadn’t used the term for quite a while - maybe we just didn’t wear our giggas over the summer.

But then a few days ago, while we were playing on the sofa after breakfast I mentioned something about my gigga. Monty asked me what a gigga was. I was stunned. I pointed at my dressing gown as if to remind him. He looked at me and, without batting an eyelid, “It’s not a gigga, it’s a dressing gown Daddy”.

My heart sank. He didn’t even remember. Charlotte and I looked at each other sadly as we realised he really is growing up fast. I’m glad I’m blogging about some of these incidents. One day we will all have forgotten them and hopefully a scan of the archives will bring all these happy memories flooding back into our lives.

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So we were changing the nappies of Tilly and Scott the other day. Monty was with us and just after we removed Tilly’s soiled nappy Monty pointed at her, and asked curiously,

“What’s that?”

Quick as a flash I answered, as matter-of-factly as I could.

“That’s her front bottom”.

Immediately I cringed at what I’d just said. I’ve no idea where I first heard that name, but I have subsequently heard it used several times. And I really don’t like it. But I also didn’t have any options. Well why would I? I’m a reasonably normal bloke. And blokes don’t discuss this kind of thing at playgounds when supervising our children. Instead, we talk about the rugby and important things like that.

However, I do recognise that sometimes I need to drop my guard and ask for help in matters like this. So I thought I’d better go and get help from a grown-up, or, better still, a whole group of expert grown-ups that I know (the ever-excellent Twinsclub forum).

The answers I got to my post there encouraged me to pen a few lines. I’m no poet, so don’t be too harsh in your literary criticism.

I asked Twinsclub for help today
I got many answers, I’m pleased to say
“What do you call their private bits?”
Their answers had us all in fits.

For boys their list comprised just nine
You’ll agree, I’m sure, they look just fine
Do Da, Dinkle, Doodle, Taggle or Tinkle
And Widgy, Wiggy, Willy or Winkle

For girls the list was twice as long
Almost enough to write a song
How about Bitbot, Bits or Foo Foo
Or even Ninny, Foo or Loo Loo?

Maybe Mini, Penny or even Tinkle
Or Fancy, Flower, Peach or Twinkle?
Front Bottom, Wee Bum I don’t think so
Whistle and Foof? Sorry - also a no no

It really is difficult to find good names
It puts my creativity to shame
“What do I think of using Giblets?”
Next you’ll suggest I call them Niblets.

I’m not too keen on using Fairy
And I doubt that we will go with Mary
In fact I reckon we’ll avoid a tizzy
By keeping it simple with Willy and Wizzy

(Luke takes a bow)

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I sat on the sofa last night trying to watch a comedy Charlotte had recorded for me last week. I had both Tilly and Scott stuck to my chest, each taking it in turns to see who could cry loudest. We were getting into a daily routine, it seemed, of both of them crying all night and sleeping all day. And now it was night-time, the little vampires had woken up. I had changed both of them so it wasn’t the nappies. Apart from looking a tiny bit jaundiced, they’re both perfectly healthy, so that wasn’t the problem. Charlotte had fed them not long before. So it shouldn’t have been that either. So just what was it that made these two tiny, furry-headed creatures cry so loud? Boredom? Disapproval of Daddy’s taste in programming? Or just doing their job, i.e. sometimes breaking into spontaneous tears for no other reason than to practice their vocal chords at a time that suited them and nobody else? Ah, yes, that was it.

I cuddled, I whispered, I patted, I stroked, I kissed. But all to no avail. I thought about the idiotic design of the human body where both sexes have breasts yet only women can breastfeed. It’s not that I’m weird or anything, but it did occur to me how great it would be if I could whip out my man-breasts and feed them. I mean they’re almost big enough. Regrettfuly I ruled out this option. I even went up to see if Charlotte was up to trying a feed. But when I saw her sleeping soundly I thought the better of it - she hadn’t slept properly for days and was due to get up not long after to feed them anyway. So I let her rest and returned to sofa in our darkened living room to lie quietly with Tilly and Scott on my chest again, trying their best to suckle my t-shirt or my neck - nice try guys but don’t hold your breath.

An hour and a half later Charlotte woke and came downstairs to find us all on the sofa, Scott having finally fallen asleep about 5 minutes before and Tilly, still in full voice. Daddy was looking and feeling just a bit frazzled.

I passed over our “little cherubs” to Charlotte and thought that before I went to bed I would go and post a cry for help on Twinsclub, the forum where I get some of my best tips. I then managed to get a few hours’ sleep, which in hindsight makes me realise how ironic it can be that having useless man-breasts can actually be quite useful.

So I was looking forward to reading the gems of wisdom on Twinsclub this morning after breakfast, knowing how fast some of the members reply to messages. And what I found was both reassuring and disappointing in equal measure. Reassuring? Don’t worry, we’re doing everything right. Disappointing? Expect this behaviour to last several weeks or more. I suppose I knew that already. I was just hoping for some magic cure. Because there is one really isn’t there?..

We can’t change the bodyclock. We can try to introduce routines though, which we’re doing. Keep the house dark and quiet at nighttime and bright during the daytime.

It’s all part of parenting babies. And it’s no different with twins, just a bit more demanding.

I wonder… If only I could get them to synchronise their crying….

Sounds like another question for Twinsclub.

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Monty and Tilly - who says babies don’t smile?”

I voiced this concern several times on here before and asked questions on various forums including TwinsClub, Twinlets and TAMBA. How could I help Monty accept his new siblings rather than become jealous of them.

We did several things which sounded like good common sense. There were other ideas which I would like to have followed up with but time got the better of me. Specifically I liked the suggestion from one mother that she created a scrapbook type book/story about the forthcoming twins’ arrival and read the story to the elder sibling every day to familiarise them with what was going to happen.

We had told Monty every day for ages that Mummy had two babies in her tummy. We referred to them as his babies to give him a sense of involvement. And here, for me, was one of the few downsides of not knowing the gender of the twins beforehand. It was hard to help Monty to bond with the new babies when we couldn’t tell him if he was going to have little brothers or sisters or one of each.

In fact, I had always wanted to know the gender of the twins and also of Monty before he was born, again to make it easier to bond with them all. I think maybe it’s easier for a mother to bond with her baby/babies because she’s spent 9 months with them inside and is all too aware of their presence and their needs. However, I didn’t ask the gender before as I didn’t want to be the only one who knew. I knew I’d blurt it out by accident sometime. So I remained ignorant and am over the worst of it now…

At first Monty was a little puzzled by it all, but seemed to be quite welcoming to Tilly and Scott. He introduces them to any guests we have and talks about them to other people. I made a copy of some photos of them so he could show his friends at school.

It hasn’t all gone smoothly; he gets a bit sulky with Mummy and Daddy sometimes, more than we’re used to, and he can be quite argumentative. Nevertheless, I brought him home from nursery school today and practically his first question when he came through the dorr was “Where are Tilly and Scott?” So he is beginning to form a bond with them. He also talks to them, kisses them and strokes their heads. When they cry he asks them what the matter is and he likes holding them too. So it’s all looking good so far.

He’s becoming a very caring and loving older brother. Who could ask for more?

They’re very lucky twins.

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Amazingly the midwives and hospital staff were so pleased with how the delivery had gone they said we could bring the twins home within a matter of hours of their birth.

So, after a hearing check and the all-clear from the pediatrician we were all able to come home. We’d been concerned about possible jealousy arising from Monty and had made several preparations to avert this. One of these was that we gave him the Roary the Racing Car presents which Tilly and Scott had got especially for him. He was extremely grateful and thanked them both before insisting we took them home so he could play with them - the cars that is.

He did spend a fair amount of time looking at them, stroking their faces gently and comparing their tiny hands against his much bigger ones.

He’s still at the curious stage and isn’t too sure about them so we’re trying to make him feel extra special for having a little sister and brother. I’m having photos printed of the twins and all of us coming home so he can show them to his friends at nursery school.

So far, the twins haven’t fed much, they haven’t been awake much, and they seem pretty chilled out. It’s obviously a very good sign and I expect this behaviour to last forever. Right?

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