Lately the boys have been so very sweet.
They bring me their artwork in chubby, proud, little hands.
They bring me cuddles and smoochy kisses. Usually with food-covered faces but always with big smiles.
And this week, they've brought me flowers. A sprig of Lavender (kindy), a Daisy (kindy), a Clover flower and a Dandelion. They don't recognise at the moment what is 'technically' a weed and in a gift from them, neither do I.
I think it's a habit they've picked up from their father, who also brought me flowers this week. Gerberas. Beautiful!!!
So thank you Coparent. Thank you Mr Smoochy and thank you Mr Cheeky. I'll take those flowers anytime. Be it pretty ones delivered to work with chocolates, or half-crushed-limp-from-palm-sweat weeds, I love them.
Showing posts with label mr cheeky. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mr cheeky. Show all posts
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Panic with the Turtles
*Warning: The following post contains some not-so-nice (ie FUCKING AWFUL) topics and imagery. Do not read if you're feeling that you may be triggered by something within.
The boys have finally started swimming lessons. I'm really happy about this because the idea of owning a home with a pool with children who can't swim terrifies me. Plus, I know they'll enjoy it and it's a good, healthy sport. We can take them as a family and it's a good replacement for Mini-me for Karate which as we all know, I hate. Because there are the two of them, plus Mini-me, we really had to wait for an age where we could expect Mini-me to be ok while both Coparent and I were in the pool with the boys. So we're starting a bit late.
We had our 'assessment' done last week which went really well. Mini-Me completed hers first and happily showed off her skills. She was put in the 'Seal' class. Coparent and I each took a son and hopped in with them. It went ok. The instructor got an idea of what they could do (ie nothing) and they had a good time. Mr Cheeky threw a tantrum over leaving so it mustn't have been too bad!
So today comes the first official lesson. Mini-Me had hers first and enjoyed herself. I like her instructor who took the time to have a quick chat with me. The boys lesson, I did not enjoy.
Their instructor didn't want us in the pool. I cant understand why - she wants them to learn to do things by themselves. Mr Cheeky initially didn't like the idea of Coparent and I not getting in the water. He took about two seconds to get used to it then happily showed off his 'swimming' and did everything the instructor asked. He loves the water and I hope he stays that way.
Mr Smoochy is another story. He does not love the water. I think he feels the water is the suck. He has inherited his mothers slight fear* of the water. At one stage Mr Smoochy refused to even look his teacher in the eyes when she tried to get his attention. He was listening though and each new thing he tried, he took to once he'd gotten used to it. I did see a couple of very weak smiles occasionally.
Very occasionally. Because I couldn't watch.
I have a slight fear* of water. Which I desperately hope I don't share with the boys. But seeing them in the water, standing on a metal stand and having to rely on themselves to hold on sent me over the edge. They don't know to hold on. Mr Cheeky is a daredevil who thinks it's ok to get go and jump around. Mr Smoochy was just all-around not happy. I was on edge.
And then I tipped over.
I don't know why. Slight fear* combined with a healthy monthly dose of PMDD, a recent bout of Strep Throat and Scarlett Fever and general fatigue got the better of me. All of a sudden, I wasn't sitting in a chair in front of my children having a swimming lesson. I had images in my head of them dead in the water. I *knew* that my children were going to die. I could see them, drowned. I started to get hot and had trouble breathing. I knew rationally I was having a panic attack, but it's been so long I didn't see it coming.
I started to cry. Which set me further over the edge because now I was sitting, gripping onto a stupid plastic chair, trying not to fall over, trying to breath, crying in front of a pool filled with strangers, trying not to let Mini-mi, Mr Cheeky or Mr Smoochy see me upset. I knew in my head I was being irrational. I knew they were safe. But at the same time, I knew they weren't. And I didn't feel so safe myself.
I couldn't speak. Coparent could see me struggling but I knew even if I said the word 'panic' I'd lose it further.
So I sat there. Trying to get those images and thoughts out of my head. Trying to look anywhere except the water. The signs, the piping, outside. Anywhere but right in front of me. After much too long, I calmed myself enough to fake smile and pop on the 'pretend mask'.
They are in the Turtle class. They will be ok. And so will I, eventually. Although I am wondering what my GP will say if I turn up asking for Xanax for swimming lessons!
* Slight fear = irrational-oh-my-God-I'm-absolutely-terrified-for-my-life-whenever-I-get-near-deep-water fear. This includes pools, oceans, and even driving on bridges over water. Yeah, it is the suck.
The boys have finally started swimming lessons. I'm really happy about this because the idea of owning a home with a pool with children who can't swim terrifies me. Plus, I know they'll enjoy it and it's a good, healthy sport. We can take them as a family and it's a good replacement for Mini-me for Karate which as we all know, I hate. Because there are the two of them, plus Mini-me, we really had to wait for an age where we could expect Mini-me to be ok while both Coparent and I were in the pool with the boys. So we're starting a bit late.
We had our 'assessment' done last week which went really well. Mini-Me completed hers first and happily showed off her skills. She was put in the 'Seal' class. Coparent and I each took a son and hopped in with them. It went ok. The instructor got an idea of what they could do (ie nothing) and they had a good time. Mr Cheeky threw a tantrum over leaving so it mustn't have been too bad!
So today comes the first official lesson. Mini-Me had hers first and enjoyed herself. I like her instructor who took the time to have a quick chat with me. The boys lesson, I did not enjoy.
Their instructor didn't want us in the pool. I cant understand why - she wants them to learn to do things by themselves. Mr Cheeky initially didn't like the idea of Coparent and I not getting in the water. He took about two seconds to get used to it then happily showed off his 'swimming' and did everything the instructor asked. He loves the water and I hope he stays that way.
Mr Smoochy is another story. He does not love the water. I think he feels the water is the suck. He has inherited his mothers slight fear* of the water. At one stage Mr Smoochy refused to even look his teacher in the eyes when she tried to get his attention. He was listening though and each new thing he tried, he took to once he'd gotten used to it. I did see a couple of very weak smiles occasionally.
Very occasionally. Because I couldn't watch.
I have a slight fear* of water. Which I desperately hope I don't share with the boys. But seeing them in the water, standing on a metal stand and having to rely on themselves to hold on sent me over the edge. They don't know to hold on. Mr Cheeky is a daredevil who thinks it's ok to get go and jump around. Mr Smoochy was just all-around not happy. I was on edge.
And then I tipped over.
I don't know why. Slight fear* combined with a healthy monthly dose of PMDD, a recent bout of Strep Throat and Scarlett Fever and general fatigue got the better of me. All of a sudden, I wasn't sitting in a chair in front of my children having a swimming lesson. I had images in my head of them dead in the water. I *knew* that my children were going to die. I could see them, drowned. I started to get hot and had trouble breathing. I knew rationally I was having a panic attack, but it's been so long I didn't see it coming.
I started to cry. Which set me further over the edge because now I was sitting, gripping onto a stupid plastic chair, trying not to fall over, trying to breath, crying in front of a pool filled with strangers, trying not to let Mini-mi, Mr Cheeky or Mr Smoochy see me upset. I knew in my head I was being irrational. I knew they were safe. But at the same time, I knew they weren't. And I didn't feel so safe myself.
I couldn't speak. Coparent could see me struggling but I knew even if I said the word 'panic' I'd lose it further.
So I sat there. Trying to get those images and thoughts out of my head. Trying to look anywhere except the water. The signs, the piping, outside. Anywhere but right in front of me. After much too long, I calmed myself enough to fake smile and pop on the 'pretend mask'.
They are in the Turtle class. They will be ok. And so will I, eventually. Although I am wondering what my GP will say if I turn up asking for Xanax for swimming lessons!
* Slight fear = irrational-oh-my-God-I'm-absolutely-terrified-for-my-life-whenever-I-get-near-deep-water fear. This includes pools, oceans, and even driving on bridges over water. Yeah, it is the suck.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
I'mma let you finish
If you've been living under a rock lately, you might have missed the hissy fit thrown recently by Kanye West at the MTV Music Awards. Seriously, I would expect better behaviour from Mr Cheeky and Mr Smoochy. If you missed it, here's a recap . .
Within days of Kanye's tanty, a new craze has hit the interwebs. It's called I'mma let you finish. Go have a peek - they are hilarious if you need brightening up.
So anyway, I decided to do my own . . .
and
I'll spare Mini-me from the mortification of being Kanye'd
Within days of Kanye's tanty, a new craze has hit the interwebs. It's called I'mma let you finish. Go have a peek - they are hilarious if you need brightening up.
So anyway, I decided to do my own . . .
and
I'll spare Mini-me from the mortification of being Kanye'd
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
I was brave
The fact is I'm not usually very brave when it comes to taking all three of the Triple J's out and about when I'm by myself. It scares me. For one, they outnumber me - never a good point to get to! Plus, the little ones have the road sense of a speedbump - ie happy to lie on the road and get smooshed by cars all day.
So I was a bit (ok, yes, I'm understating) worried about taking all three of them to a park near the beach. I thought about the potential hazards - the ocean, the road, falling from play equipment, running away in general in two to three different directions at a time. It was enough to make me shudder. A lot. If I could have wrapped them in safe, bubble wrapped, hazmat suits and sent them to play in a fenced dog park all day, I'd have been thrilled!
Having said that, they were WONDERFUL.
We had huge talks before leaving about following the rules. They knew if they went anywhere near the road or water, we would leave. If they ran away from me or refused to hold hands, we would leave. And they really, really didn't want to leave.
We got to meet up with some lovely friends and their children and we all (yep, even socially-introverted-to-start-with me!) had a fantastic time.
However, if you see a post on eb about any of the following activities, then that's us . . .
The kids ate hot chips. Oh the horror!
They all had lemonade icypoles! (Thanks again to M's other half for those!)
They played in the dirt and sand and loved it!
Mini-me spent a heap of time keeping an eye on her brothers so I could socialise (and yes, it cost me at the toy shop on the way home!)
And the best part of all . . .
The boys refused to use the toilets there. And really, after catching a whiff of stale urine when we opened the door, I didn't blame them. I personally hung on for dear life but given our 3-year-olds are toilet training that wouldn't do. So they peed. On a tree. In the park.
Lucky boys.
So I was a bit (ok, yes, I'm understating) worried about taking all three of them to a park near the beach. I thought about the potential hazards - the ocean, the road, falling from play equipment, running away in general in two to three different directions at a time. It was enough to make me shudder. A lot. If I could have wrapped them in safe, bubble wrapped, hazmat suits and sent them to play in a fenced dog park all day, I'd have been thrilled!
Having said that, they were WONDERFUL.
We had huge talks before leaving about following the rules. They knew if they went anywhere near the road or water, we would leave. If they ran away from me or refused to hold hands, we would leave. And they really, really didn't want to leave.
We got to meet up with some lovely friends and their children and we all (yep, even socially-introverted-to-start-with me!) had a fantastic time.
However, if you see a post on eb about any of the following activities, then that's us . . .
The kids ate hot chips. Oh the horror!
They all had lemonade icypoles! (Thanks again to M's other half for those!)
They played in the dirt and sand and loved it!
Mini-me spent a heap of time keeping an eye on her brothers so I could socialise (and yes, it cost me at the toy shop on the way home!)
And the best part of all . . .
The boys refused to use the toilets there. And really, after catching a whiff of stale urine when we opened the door, I didn't blame them. I personally hung on for dear life but given our 3-year-olds are toilet training that wouldn't do. So they peed. On a tree. In the park.
Lucky boys.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Catch up
I haven't posted much lately about the Triple J's, so here's a few snippets of late . . .
Conversation with Mr Cheeky today:
Mr C: *finds my mobile phone and picks it up* I need to call my friends Mummy
Me: Really? Which friends?
Mr C: Two friends Mummy *holds up two fingers*
Me: Which two friends?
Mr C: No, four friends *holds up four fingers*. No five *squishes his hand towards me*
Me: Who are you calling? What are their names?
Mr C: I don't know Mummy. Maybe just Santa.
It's going to be a long wait for Mr C until December 25th.
Mini-Me is going really well at the moment. She's enjoyed the last term at school and between her teacher and the Chaplain, has come a long way. She's looking forward to the holidays, as am I! She spent today making cards for Coparent and I, telling us how much she loves us. She then requested chocolate. Sentimental and a born negotiator - she's got talent!
And last but not least, Mr Smoochy. Who is becoming less smoochy as he becomes more and more the demanding toddler. Whist not as stubborn as his brother, he can still chuck an impressive tantrum as demonstrated this afternoon. Complete with leg stamping, arm flapping and head shaking drama. He did make up for it tonight though with a few smoochy kisses and squishy cuddles as he drifted off to sleep. He tried to be brave today and said he wanted a haircut and 'wouldn't cry this time Mummy'. Until he had the cape on and the clippers set to go -then he hyped up and we gave it up as a bad joke. Maybe the girly, long back style is in at kindy these days?!
Conversation with Mr Cheeky today:
Mr C: *finds my mobile phone and picks it up* I need to call my friends Mummy
Me: Really? Which friends?
Mr C: Two friends Mummy *holds up two fingers*
Me: Which two friends?
Mr C: No, four friends *holds up four fingers*. No five *squishes his hand towards me*
Me: Who are you calling? What are their names?
Mr C: I don't know Mummy. Maybe just Santa.
It's going to be a long wait for Mr C until December 25th.
Mini-Me is going really well at the moment. She's enjoyed the last term at school and between her teacher and the Chaplain, has come a long way. She's looking forward to the holidays, as am I! She spent today making cards for Coparent and I, telling us how much she loves us. She then requested chocolate. Sentimental and a born negotiator - she's got talent!
And last but not least, Mr Smoochy. Who is becoming less smoochy as he becomes more and more the demanding toddler. Whist not as stubborn as his brother, he can still chuck an impressive tantrum as demonstrated this afternoon. Complete with leg stamping, arm flapping and head shaking drama. He did make up for it tonight though with a few smoochy kisses and squishy cuddles as he drifted off to sleep. He tried to be brave today and said he wanted a haircut and 'wouldn't cry this time Mummy'. Until he had the cape on and the clippers set to go -then he hyped up and we gave it up as a bad joke. Maybe the girly, long back style is in at kindy these days?!
Monday, June 1, 2009
Why?
Mr Cheeky . . .
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
But why?
A trick I learnt with Mini-me was to turn it around and ask the toddler why. I do this with Mr Cheeky and I get . . .
I dun knoooooo
Why?
Why?
Why?
I think I'm losing my mind!
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
But why?
A trick I learnt with Mini-me was to turn it around and ask the toddler why. I do this with Mr Cheeky and I get . . .
I dun knoooooo
Why?
Why?
Why?
I think I'm losing my mind!
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Karate
The word 'hate' is a very powerful word and I rarely use it. I can say however that I hate karate. Not so much the sport, but the experience for me.
Mini-me does karate twice a week. We signed her up for it as we thought it would be good for her and it has been. It's a sport that can increase her confidence and her social skills without being too confronting for her in that area. She can improve her coordination, which given that she's my daughter, certainly needs improving! She likes it.
I however hate it.
Twice a week (of course, on the days I have meetings and don't get to leave school early) we have the karate shuffle. I race out of school meetings and head over to kindy to collect the boys and Mini-me from after school care. It seems to take forever to bundle them all in the car while the child care worker is usually wanting to tell me stories about the boys not eating all of their food. Never mind that they have enough food to feed an entire karate squad. Those slices of ham that get played with seem to be a BIG DEAL for the girls at kindy. Given that they have just turned three and are well into size 4 clothing, I think they're fine.
Anyway, we finally get through the last minute toilet stops, the collection of shoes, jumpers, artwork and bags and spend at least five minutes trying to cajole the boys into sitting in their booster seats. Finally, we're on our way!
We race home and Mini-me races inside and gets changed into her karate suit. The boys stay with me in the car because quite frankly, after the effort it takes to get them in there once, there's no way I can repeat the process again! Mini-me usually dashes out quickly bringing with her some snacks I've left on the bench - anything not too messy in the car is fair game.
So we set off to karate. We drive about 10 minutes, usually with Mr Cheeky and Mr Smoochy screaming out to me the whole way. 'Mum, open dis.' 'Mum, what you doin?' 'Mum, I saw a truck!' 'Mum, that's my truck!' 'No Mum, it's my truck'. You get the idea. It's not a peaceful drive by any means.
Once we arrive, the fun really begins! All three of us trundle into the office to pay for Mini-me's lesson. During this time I try to keep my cool while both boys are madly running around screaming with glee at being out of the car. In fairness, Mini-me does try and help herd them back my way but it's not an easy task by any means!
After a lesson about 4 months ago, the boys are not welcome in the classroom any longer. One afternoon the trainer was extemely rude to me in front of all the students, parents and other instructors. She went off saying they had to leave as they were noisy and 'couldn't I control them?'. Two year old twins watching a group of older children run around apparently are expected to stay seated and silent. Apparently I am a crap parent as I couldn't manage them to do that during a warm up run. It was the proverbial straw that afternoon and poor coparent arrived to find me in tears sitting outside the room, trying desparately to keep both boys on my lap.
So Mini-me goes in by herself and I go back out to the car with the boys. In summer we used to go to the park and play I Spy or sing or play with balls but now it's dark and cold so we wait in the car. Coparent usually arrives about 10-15 minutes later and collects them from me. Damn it, but it's the most annoying 10-15 minutes of the day. They are crazy being cooped up. Last week was especially lovely when Mr Cheeky had an 'accident' of the poo kind and I had to try and change him in the passenger seat. Oh the joys!
Karate haven't helped the situation. When we signed her up, the lessons started at 6pm. Definitely doable. Then it got changed to 5:30pm which is when the fun begain. Plus the lessons were shortened to 45mins and the price went up. I sit there and seethe over how annoyed I am.
Every Tuesday and Thursday I end up feeling like I'm being a crap parent to all of them. I miss the first part of Mini-me's classes and the boys are shuffled along at every turn with no fun for them. Unless you count smearing food on their booster seats as fun. In which case, they're having a ball!!
But I do it. Because she loves it and I love her. But if you have any suggestions on how to do this better, by all means, let me know!
Because I really hate karate.
Mini-me does karate twice a week. We signed her up for it as we thought it would be good for her and it has been. It's a sport that can increase her confidence and her social skills without being too confronting for her in that area. She can improve her coordination, which given that she's my daughter, certainly needs improving! She likes it.
I however hate it.
Twice a week (of course, on the days I have meetings and don't get to leave school early) we have the karate shuffle. I race out of school meetings and head over to kindy to collect the boys and Mini-me from after school care. It seems to take forever to bundle them all in the car while the child care worker is usually wanting to tell me stories about the boys not eating all of their food. Never mind that they have enough food to feed an entire karate squad. Those slices of ham that get played with seem to be a BIG DEAL for the girls at kindy. Given that they have just turned three and are well into size 4 clothing, I think they're fine.
Anyway, we finally get through the last minute toilet stops, the collection of shoes, jumpers, artwork and bags and spend at least five minutes trying to cajole the boys into sitting in their booster seats. Finally, we're on our way!
We race home and Mini-me races inside and gets changed into her karate suit. The boys stay with me in the car because quite frankly, after the effort it takes to get them in there once, there's no way I can repeat the process again! Mini-me usually dashes out quickly bringing with her some snacks I've left on the bench - anything not too messy in the car is fair game.
So we set off to karate. We drive about 10 minutes, usually with Mr Cheeky and Mr Smoochy screaming out to me the whole way. 'Mum, open dis.' 'Mum, what you doin?' 'Mum, I saw a truck!' 'Mum, that's my truck!' 'No Mum, it's my truck'. You get the idea. It's not a peaceful drive by any means.
Once we arrive, the fun really begins! All three of us trundle into the office to pay for Mini-me's lesson. During this time I try to keep my cool while both boys are madly running around screaming with glee at being out of the car. In fairness, Mini-me does try and help herd them back my way but it's not an easy task by any means!
After a lesson about 4 months ago, the boys are not welcome in the classroom any longer. One afternoon the trainer was extemely rude to me in front of all the students, parents and other instructors. She went off saying they had to leave as they were noisy and 'couldn't I control them?'. Two year old twins watching a group of older children run around apparently are expected to stay seated and silent. Apparently I am a crap parent as I couldn't manage them to do that during a warm up run. It was the proverbial straw that afternoon and poor coparent arrived to find me in tears sitting outside the room, trying desparately to keep both boys on my lap.
So Mini-me goes in by herself and I go back out to the car with the boys. In summer we used to go to the park and play I Spy or sing or play with balls but now it's dark and cold so we wait in the car. Coparent usually arrives about 10-15 minutes later and collects them from me. Damn it, but it's the most annoying 10-15 minutes of the day. They are crazy being cooped up. Last week was especially lovely when Mr Cheeky had an 'accident' of the poo kind and I had to try and change him in the passenger seat. Oh the joys!
Karate haven't helped the situation. When we signed her up, the lessons started at 6pm. Definitely doable. Then it got changed to 5:30pm which is when the fun begain. Plus the lessons were shortened to 45mins and the price went up. I sit there and seethe over how annoyed I am.
Every Tuesday and Thursday I end up feeling like I'm being a crap parent to all of them. I miss the first part of Mini-me's classes and the boys are shuffled along at every turn with no fun for them. Unless you count smearing food on their booster seats as fun. In which case, they're having a ball!!
But I do it. Because she loves it and I love her. But if you have any suggestions on how to do this better, by all means, let me know!
Because I really hate karate.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Happy Birthday Mr Cheeky and Mr Smoochy!
Today my sons turned 3. What a day! This is the first year they had an idea of presents and a party and cake and they totally enjoyed themselves!
This day three years ago was intense, scary, exhilarating and wondrous all at once!
I was 37 weeks pregnant with the boys and had been over it for weeks! I was huge. Picture a humpback whale with the hump at the front and then double it. And that was me.
I remember waiting in the maternity ward and not looking forward to the csar. I'd had one before with Mini-me and it wasn't pleasant. Given a pre-existing heart condition, the fact that the boys were breech and transverse plus the sucky pregnancy I'd had, a csar was the only option.
The plan had been to have both Mum and Coparent in the room with me. Five minutes before cutting time the anesthetist decided she had a problem with Mum being there and I was told it was Coparent and I ONLY. I was not impressed. I had to break the news to Mum that she couldn't be there. It wasn't a great start.
The Dr rang back to say that he was waiting in theatre for me and I had to get down NOW if I didn't want to miss out on my spot. Needless to say I waddled down to the nurses station and told them I had to go. They sent me down with Coparent, unescorted by a nurse and my file which caused no end of trouble when we got there - apparently it's not the done thing to wander down for your own delivery!
Coparent was taken off to get dressed in some lovely scrubs, while I was prepped. Read - was transferred to a teeny table where I felt like I was going to puke and fall at the same time. Noice!
Finally the anesthetist arrived to start jabbing me. I wasn't her fan by now seeing as she'd stressed me so much right before delivery but we had to move on. She started to administer a spinal block (think big, nasty, mofo needle in the back) while a male nurse supported me in front. Suddenly he left. Given my stressed, anxious state I immediately wondered if I'd done something wrong? Was I too heavy? Too stressed? Too anything? In reality his leaving probably had nothing to do with me but I was clearly on edge.
Eventually the operation started. Mr Smoochy was first - blonde and upside-down. He was shown to me and taken quickly to be checked out. Next it was Mr Cheeky. I could hear him protesting even before he was fully out. His cries sounded strangely muffled and reassuring at the same time. He was shown to me - dark hair and looking so much like his sister! They were both cleaned, checked over, weighed, wrapped, then handed to Coparent who helped the nurse show them to me. Given I was lying flat I couldn't hold both of them but touched and kissed and welcomed.
They had to go to SCN as I had Gestational Diabetes. They needed monitoring for their breathing and blood sugar levels but I was happy and confident they were ok. They were big boys for twins and the pead was very happy and commented on how well a job I had done in managing my sugars. Apparently they can tell when examing the babies how stable the sugars were. Just don't tell him about the extra insulin injections I took to drink Maccas Frozen Cokes!
The boys did so well they were brought up to our room on the maternity ward at around 10 that night! We cuddled, loved, soothed, welcomed and celebrated their arrival. From the first minute they taught me that newborns have personality. They were immediately two different individuals who brought such joy to our family.
I consider raising twins to be a journey. A rollercoaster that I have been privileged to ride upon. My life changed dramatically the minute I became pregnant with them. I struggled daily during their pregnancy. In addition to all of the usual pregnancy complaints, during the 37 weeks I had . . . .(wait for it, it's quite alarming!) . . .
After their birth I also experienced . . . .
I'll stop now. It's just too long!
It took me around 6 weeks to be fully discharged from various hospitals after their birth. Three years later, I am still facing health complications and surgery that relates back to their pregnancy and birth.
And you know what? To get them in my life, I'd do it all over.
Happy Birthday Mr Cheeky!
Happy Birthday Mr Smoochy!
You are incredibly loved.
This day three years ago was intense, scary, exhilarating and wondrous all at once!
I was 37 weeks pregnant with the boys and had been over it for weeks! I was huge. Picture a humpback whale with the hump at the front and then double it. And that was me.
I remember waiting in the maternity ward and not looking forward to the csar. I'd had one before with Mini-me and it wasn't pleasant. Given a pre-existing heart condition, the fact that the boys were breech and transverse plus the sucky pregnancy I'd had, a csar was the only option.
The plan had been to have both Mum and Coparent in the room with me. Five minutes before cutting time the anesthetist decided she had a problem with Mum being there and I was told it was Coparent and I ONLY. I was not impressed. I had to break the news to Mum that she couldn't be there. It wasn't a great start.
The Dr rang back to say that he was waiting in theatre for me and I had to get down NOW if I didn't want to miss out on my spot. Needless to say I waddled down to the nurses station and told them I had to go. They sent me down with Coparent, unescorted by a nurse and my file which caused no end of trouble when we got there - apparently it's not the done thing to wander down for your own delivery!
Coparent was taken off to get dressed in some lovely scrubs, while I was prepped. Read - was transferred to a teeny table where I felt like I was going to puke and fall at the same time. Noice!
Finally the anesthetist arrived to start jabbing me. I wasn't her fan by now seeing as she'd stressed me so much right before delivery but we had to move on. She started to administer a spinal block (think big, nasty, mofo needle in the back) while a male nurse supported me in front. Suddenly he left. Given my stressed, anxious state I immediately wondered if I'd done something wrong? Was I too heavy? Too stressed? Too anything? In reality his leaving probably had nothing to do with me but I was clearly on edge.
Eventually the operation started. Mr Smoochy was first - blonde and upside-down. He was shown to me and taken quickly to be checked out. Next it was Mr Cheeky. I could hear him protesting even before he was fully out. His cries sounded strangely muffled and reassuring at the same time. He was shown to me - dark hair and looking so much like his sister! They were both cleaned, checked over, weighed, wrapped, then handed to Coparent who helped the nurse show them to me. Given I was lying flat I couldn't hold both of them but touched and kissed and welcomed.
They had to go to SCN as I had Gestational Diabetes. They needed monitoring for their breathing and blood sugar levels but I was happy and confident they were ok. They were big boys for twins and the pead was very happy and commented on how well a job I had done in managing my sugars. Apparently they can tell when examing the babies how stable the sugars were. Just don't tell him about the extra insulin injections I took to drink Maccas Frozen Cokes!
The boys did so well they were brought up to our room on the maternity ward at around 10 that night! We cuddled, loved, soothed, welcomed and celebrated their arrival. From the first minute they taught me that newborns have personality. They were immediately two different individuals who brought such joy to our family.
I consider raising twins to be a journey. A rollercoaster that I have been privileged to ride upon. My life changed dramatically the minute I became pregnant with them. I struggled daily during their pregnancy. In addition to all of the usual pregnancy complaints, during the 37 weeks I had . . . .(wait for it, it's quite alarming!) . . .
- Hyperemesis (I think the final count was 5 trips for a drip for fluids)
- Gestational Diabetes (insulin injections required)
- Graves Disease (usually gets better in pregnancy, but no, I developed it)
- SPD (OMG the PAIN!)
- Heart Palpitations (always fun while driving!)
After their birth I also experienced . . . .
- Bladder Shut Down (can't think of the fancy name but that's basically what happened)
- Bowel Shut Down (ditto to above. Really not pleasant)
- Hemorroids (so bad they recommended surgery)
- Post Natal Depression (who couldn't see that coming!?)
- Uterus Infection (she did a great job at the time but has apparently packed it in)
- Hemorrhage (caused by above)
- Broken Leg (apparently caused in part to decreased bone density. I just know I was a clutz when walking across a room and snapped the leg bone near my ankle. The boys were 11 weeks old - now that was fun!)
- Umbilical Hernias (recurring. Because why do anything just once!)
- Hiatus Hernia (a pain in the guts as we speak)
I'll stop now. It's just too long!
It took me around 6 weeks to be fully discharged from various hospitals after their birth. Three years later, I am still facing health complications and surgery that relates back to their pregnancy and birth.
And you know what? To get them in my life, I'd do it all over.
Happy Birthday Mr Cheeky!
Happy Birthday Mr Smoochy!
You are incredibly loved.
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