Three Ring Circus

Trish over at Little Drummer Boys has linked me to her Thursday Thirteen of twin blogs. Looking back, I don’t really have alot about the twin type things that are done around here and in fact, I would have to say that Ivy and Noah haven’t had alot of twin moments yet, being only two.

So I thought I would dive into my memory bank and tell you some of the weird twinny type things that Immy and Maddy have done and said…

* when they were little Immy and Maddy would babble in some strange gobbledegook to each other. I could never understand one word but they understood. Everything. One would waffle on about something, the other would say something back, they would point and nod or giggle and then potter off to do the thing they had discussed… like one helping the other up to the top of the telephone table so they could ring 000 (Australian emergency number)!!! Imagine my embarrasment when the phone operator called back and ordered me to stop making prank calls to the service! When I had no idea what she was talking about, she queried whether I had young children.

* When the girls were about four we went up to Queensland for a holiday. Wanting to give the girls choice in what they wore and wanting to encourage individualism, we took them seperately to purchase new swimwear (a holiday tradition). One went with Dave and the other with me. Maddy chose a cute two piece bikini in a nice light blue. Imogen came from her swim shop minutes later, having chosen the exact same costume but in navy blue!

* We would often find after one (usually Maddy) would fall and cut/knock herself, the other would wake up with cuts and bruises in the same place, even though she had not fallen down. This still happens to this day and it happens with Ivy and Noah too.

* Even though the girls are fraternal, when they were about five, I noticed that they had a birthmark, just under their shoulder blades in exactly the same place and in almost the same pattern!

* Imogen was a sicky child and often in hospital. One night, I was at home and Dave was in the hospital with Immy. Maddy came into me very distressed early in the morning. She said I needed to go into the hospital that Maddy was very sick. I calmed her and told her that Daddy would have called if something was going on. I had just settled her when the phone rang. It was David. Immy had become quite septic and I needed to go into the hospital.

I had goosebumps for a long time after that one.

It’s pretty amazing having twins. Now with the two sets, I can see other differences with girl/girl and girl/boy too.

Well, dear readers, it’s the day before my little cherubs turn two. We have had many ups and downs over the last 24 months (most of them chronicled on this blog).

My little guy is amazing, social, easy going, talkative, has a gorgeous dimpled smile and a wicked sense of humour, loves routine, kisses and cuddles. He lights up my life with laughter and joy. He is my second chance and I love all that he gifts to me.

My little girl is petite, beautiful and strong. She is a complexity of character, socially shy, yet cheeky and free spirited with those she is comfortable with. She has stolen the hearts of many. She is the full stop at the end of a very long chapter in my life. I’m glad that it was her. She completes me.

Here is Ivy and Noah’s birth story. Written about five months after their birth.

Here is a little movie montage for anyone who has five minutes.

Tomorrow for all those with a love of all things Ivy and Noah there will be another one.

After a few horrible days in the hospital Ivy is home. Re-intergration into the house has not been smooth but we’ll get there. Thank you to everyone who sent their well wishes. It meant alot and helped us to get through.

I know I am a little behind but I need to do a little bit of house keeping.

The 1st of November marked the beginning of NoBloPoMo, which I am taking part in. I haven’t quite worked out everything yet but I do know I’m supposed to post every day of November! So far so good, even if I did have to get the technical consultant/new sub editor to post for me.

The 1st of November also marked our official countdown to Ivy and Noah’s second birthday, which falls on the 30th.

It is one of our busiest months with dance concerts, camps away, end of school activities and that all important lead up to Christmas.

Today is David’s mum’s birthday! Happy Birthday Grandma, hope you have a wonderful day!

Now, back to our regular program!

*Thinks to self: I should know not to bag out my paed (ever) because karma has a way of teaching you a lesson.*

Ivy is sick again. *sigh*. Will this never end?

With a tummy bug and a very sore bottom, my poor little girl, the one who is usually constantly on the go, has been very still today.

Get well baby. One day Mummy will learn that what goes around comes around.

 

 

On the weekend we bought and decorated Ivy and Noah’s new pottys. Ivy’s has stickers of handbags and shoes all over it and Noah’s is adorned with pirates. (Yes, they are waterproof stickers, friends).

With the other kids, we introduced the potty slowly. Imogen and Madeline went shopping and chose their own and their first pairs of undies. Lily was more or less the same but she didn’t like the potty, so she chose a toddler seat.

Initially we sat them on to ‘get a feel’ for using it before bathtime and progressed to them sitting on the potty when a parent was… sitting on the ‘great white throne’. For us, this worked really well (especially for the big twins) and they all trained quite easily. We had some cute little quirks along the way, like Maddy insisting she wear her pink sunhat everytime she needed to go but all in all, it went quite smoothly.

Summer is rapidly approaching, as is Ivy and Noah’s 2nd birthday and thoughts are turning to toilet training the toddlers (I think mum just wants to see me do away with my obsession with modern cloth nappies, just quietly) and I’m not sure this pair are going to be so easy.

For one, I have no idea how to toilet train a boy. I’ve never had to do it before. When Mal finally trained out of nappies he went straight to the standing position.

Secondly, we are almost nine years down the track from TT from scratch, I think I might have become rusty in my skills.

Thirdly, I have never had children sit on the potty and then proceed to race them down the hallway, scooching it along with their powerful legs, laughing at each other’s attempts to outscooch the other.

Finally, even though I spent a large part of today explaining to Noah, that you sit your bottom down on the potty he still insisted on wearing it as a hat. (Gives new meaning to the phrase ‘potty mouth’).

Truthfully, I am no hurry to have them using the toilet. Nappies are sometimes messy, sometimes they are inconvenient but having a two year old in undies brings about a whole new set of issues, let alone two toddlers in undies. I think the fact that the boy is wearing his as a fashion accessory speaks volumes about how ready they  are aren’t.

This morning I was disorganised.

Slow to get moving and generally dragging the chain. I wanted to stay in bed. I wanted to lie in and read. I wanted to pretend that I didn’t have to get up and get the kids moving for school, the babies dressed and fed…it was a stay in your PJs kind of day. It was raining, grey and the morning air was cool.

Of course at about 4:30 this morning my reality set in with the entrance of Ivy and Noah. Ha ha ha hahahahahahahahahaha (insert half crazed laugh here).

My little rays of sunshine!

Thank goodness daylight savings starts this weekend. I don’t know what I’m whinging about really. Getting up at 4:30 when you only went to bed at midnight is just so refreshing!

The key point in this story so far is that it was raining…alot.

What do you think I spent a large part of my day doing?

Can you guess?

Does the title give it away?

Sometime after breakfast Immy came screaming out of our bedroom.

"Mu - um! Noah has just found his birthday gumboots and he won’t put them back"!!!!! (Darn, I knew it was way too quiet)!

So what would you do? Would you insist on the (not very well hidden) wellies going back in their hiding place because it was still a full month until their birthday or would you just give them to the little guy, with eyes shining bright, because he had aquired his very first pair of gumboots?

Me too.

And if you gave those boots to the almost two year old boy would you then deny the almost two year old little girl because she hadn’t been snooping?

Me either.

So, here I was on a rainy day with twin toddlers and their brand spanking new (almost) birthday gumboots.

Gee, what will I do?

Of course, after a nap and some lunch we went outside and splashed in the rain puddles. What else would you do?

It’s not like I really had a choice.

I think if I hadn’t have released them into the yard, our house would be lacking a door right now because, you know, a glass door can only take so much rattling, head banging and smacking. You can only bellow at a door so often before it breaks, so you see, the choice was really taken out of my hands.

So we went outside, in the rain.

Ivy, Noah, my mum (who had arrived during nap time) and I. They had a ball. They got wet. They splashed around.

Did I mention they got wet?

It was fun and I took photos.

Want to see?

I’ve hidden the rest of their parcels, again, so they will have something left come the end of November.

Why would you take one husband, five children and two toddlers to Toys R Us when you are severly sleep deprived? Honestly. Did you really think that you would have time to look for birthday presents for the soon to be two year olds? Follow the kids around, making mental notes on what they are interested in, for Christmas gifts? You were dreamin’ love!

For a start, didn’t you realise that releasing children into a toy store is like letting mice run free in the pantry? They scurry every which way looking for their favourite tidbits. You should know by now that taking them to a place like that is going to bring about the "can I’s"

Can I have this $60 doll? Can I have this $80 game boy game? You will make yourself hoarse saying no, by the time the husband calls it a day.(Which is about half an hour into the excursion).

Another thing, expecting toddlers to stay strapped into a stroller when there are toys, from floor to ceiling, is unrealistic… very unrealistic. Especially if you want to leave unscathed by the high pitched squeal, that your son has aquired, along with his almost two year old tantys.

Taking a money stressed husband to a place where you hope to spend money is not a good idea either. It just makes him fidgety, with crazy eyes darting from one end of the isle to the other, looking for the closest exit and you will be bitterly disappointed by the outcome of the outing. Remember that word. Bit - ter - ly.

When you do unbuckle the toddlers, be prepared to run…FAST. That, or be prepared to buy all the things they can break in the minute it takes you to hunt them down. Please know that the latter is not the best option unless you are flush with cash because two toddlers, working together, can break alot in a small space of time.

When you find your toddler son in a hot pink, battery operated, car, do not

a) laugh at him,

b) show him where the reverse button is or

c) chase him

because he will

a) think it’s a game and push the accelerator pedal down as far as it will go, thus allowing him to ‘drive’ full force down a crowded isle

b) hit the reverse button and drive over the cranky husband’s toes. Making him more cranky and

c) create a riot of other shoppers, laughing, at the spectacle of two parents chasing after their runaway child.

Also, it will get you in trouble with the sixteen year old, assistant manager, who has no idea what it is like raising children, doesn’t really want to know because it is Sunday and he would rather be out surfing with his mates but his Mum made him get this stupid job so that he could learn about responsibilities and good work ethic. He is already in a bad mood and you and your ragbag children just made his day!

When the money stressed husband says it’s time to go, just go. Don’t try to talk him around to spending money on Baby Einstein bowl and cup learning sets because they are on special this week. It won’t work.

When you have your own thirty -  five year old tanty and get your way it’s not a smart move to then ask him for something else, like a coffee because you are dead on your feet from chasing seven kids. He will laugh in your general direction and continue to make a fast exit to the car park.

Finally, when you go to the toy store with seven children, remember to take some ear plugs for when you are exiting the shopping centre. These will save you from having to listen to all the whinging about how unfair it was to take them to the toy store in the first place and then not get them anything. (Even though they got almost half a day playing in said store and a nice lunch, instead of having to clean up the yard).

Note to self: better just to stay at home and blog!

P.S. When walking to the carpark and cranky husband spies a model helicopter in a hobby store, encourage him to go in and make a selection. His curiosity will spark faster than a grass fire and his demeanor will rapidly change. Remember this the next time you want to spend money and take him to the hobby store first!

At least, that is what he looked like at 4am this morning when he was in my bed trying to evict my eyeballs from their sockets. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a blue and white striped Bonds suit and the most devilish of grins, dimples included.

Why, oh why won’t my babies sleep through the night? When I took them home from the NICU the nurses commented on how lucky we were to have NICU trained babies. ‘They’re in a good routine’, they said, ‘they’ll just wake and feed, wake and feed’, another commented.

Look, don’t get me wrong, that is great when you bring them home, newborn from the hospital.When you are happy to baby gaze and you want to feed them every three hours, when you are floating on the pink fluffy clouds of euphoria. The trouble is, they can’t seem to break that routine and they are ALMOST two!!!! Two! Those pink, fluffy clouds are looking awfully grey and stormy, right about now.

For goodness sake, I am so sleep deprived! I can’t think straight anymore. Give me a break!(Please)

Here are some hints for Ivy and Noah (and any other babies out there who refuse to sleep through the night);

Do NOT come into my bed unless you want to snuggle down and sleep. If you want to seek and destroy, then do it in your own room. Mummies and Daddies need to sleep, otherwise they get cranky in the day. You, know, that time when you want them at their best, so they can dote upon you?

If you wake up very early in the morning, it will not put you in good stead to demand a ‘bockle’ (bottle) and then hit me in the face when it is not forth coming. No amount of hitting will get me or your father up in the freezing cold to get you a drink.

If you wake up in the middle of the night, do not get out of bed and wake up your brother or sister as well. We will be alot friendlier if there is only one baby to put back to sleep. Two wailing babies is just asking for trouble.

If you have to wake up can you please do it half an hour BEFORE we go to bed, not half an hour AFTER? If you haven’t guessed by now, when parents go to bed, they are exhausted and are asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. Half an hour in is serious REM time and you are interrupting the most restful part of the night.

Finally, if you do happen to wake several times during the night (and expect us to get out of bed to resettle you), when Mummy says it’s time for a day sleep, know that she means it. Know that you running around in overtired hyperactivity mode makes Mummy more tired. Mummy saying time for sleep is not an invitation for you to start up a conversation of babble with your sibling. It is not the time to do a poo in your clean nappy and it is not the time to chant some baby mantra at the top of your lungs. Sleep means sleep (and time out for your worn out caregiver…often a first opportunity to shower and have some nutrition for the day so that she has the energy to bend to your every whim).

P.S. Another little hint; even just one night of full sleep will do wonders for the Mummy and the Daddy. Take that into consideration when you go to bed tonight.

Electrophobia: The fear of electricity or in Noah’s case, the fear of electrical appliances.

To date, Noah is afraid of;

The vacuum cleaner,

The mix master,

The blow heater,

The hair dryer,

The blower vac and

The lawn mower.

When any of these machines whir into action, Noah cries and runs to me. He clings to me tightly and shakes. His heart palpates way above his normal rate and his eyes dart around the room, looking for the dangerous noise maker.

I’m not kidding. He is petrified.

We have tried all manner of things to settle his fears but so far none have worked. I’m hoping that he will grow out of it. No good woman will want to know him if his phobias take him into adulthood!

If Noah doesn’t grow out of his electrophobia he won’t be able to;

clean the house,

puree up the baby food

or do any of the lawn duties…

I know HE may think that is heaven on a stick but his wife won’t! Trust me on that one!

Scattered around this entry are the photos that I put forward for the Jeans for Genes competition, run by Huggies. Do you like them? The gorgeous jumpers that they are wearing are made by an Australian designer Oobi. I found them at a gorgeous internet boutique minifashionista 

David is still sick with the flu. His lowest temperature today was 37.7 degrees. He was going to go to work but I reasoned with his sense of responsibility. I asked him to consider all the men with newborn babies and the men with children whose health was already compromised. He agreed. As it is, someone from his work infected him and inturn he has infected Ivy and Noah (going downhill rapidly this evening) and Immy and Maddy are feeling unwell tonight too. He called into the office to say he wasn’t going to be in, only to be answered by a stuffed up, gooey, male voice, who professed to also have the flu!

Boys, what are you doing? If you are sick, stay at home! Stop the cycle! Forget about your male work ethic for just a minute and consider the children (and the mother’s who have to look after them) when you cough all over a man who is also a father!!! ARRRRRGH!

David says he is going in tomorrow, no matter how lousy he feels. *SIGH* Have I not taught that man anything?

Today it was wet and freezing and the babies and I were stuck inside to slowly go cabin mad. (Like a dog goes chain mad).

I did what any person would do and took out my camera. After the babies demolished the kitchen followed quickly by the loungeroom, unrolled a new toilet roll and started in on my room, I called it a day and locked them and myself in Noah’s room.

Ivy and Noah did what any self respecting toddler would do on a wet day. They pulled every single toy out and every book was tipped from the bookshelf. I tried to get some good shots but do you know how fast two twenty month old children can move? FAST! Very fast!!!!

The real reason I was trying to get photos was to enter a competition that is being run by Huggies. It’s for Jeans for Genes day. To enter you need to have the cutest baby in jeans photo. After a couple of hours though I came to the conclusion it was impossible!

I thought it could be fun but I also wanted to support this because William had a genetic heart condition (critical aortic valve stenosis) and any research into genetics is therefore important. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if something significant was found before any of my children have children? There will always be a risk for them, I know that.

It was just not to be today.

A lovely teacher from Bellbird P.S. has birthed her baby at 28 weeks. When I found out I wanted to go to her and give her a hug, just be there for her as she goes through this journey. However, I don’t know her that well. It got me thinking though that there is very little support for families who have premature babies up here. I did ask when Ivy and Noah were in the NICU and the response was that there was no interest for a support group for our area. I beg to differ. I could have definately used some help and reassurance.

There is a lady on the Central Coast who is trying to get a group up and running. I am really hoping it gets off the ground! I’ll be one of the first in line to go to a meeting. It’s still an hour away though from the Newcastle and Hunter regions.

How do we get something like that started I wonder?

There are words that I am hearing over and over. Words that are made up by Ivy and Noah but that I can understand. I want to write them down so I don’t forget…

‘Gubem‘ - this generally means I’m hungry and can see you eating and I’ll have whatever you’re having…NOW! Sometimes used as a happy noise as well.

‘Noonga Noonga’ is a Noah only word. It is a word that means I am angry and I want you to go away.

‘Na - Na’ used to be a word for food but now it is just used for morning and night bottles or if they want milk in the middle of the day. Just because they demand it, doesn’t mean they get it though.

"Y-eye Y-eye" is their word for put me in the swing and push me.

‘Barp’ I want to have a bath.

‘carcar’ self explanitory.

‘hankooo‘ means thankyou in Ivy’s world.

‘gullygullygully‘ means I have done something naughty and I am not telling you what it is. (Noah)

‘uppyuppyuppy‘ Ivy’s word for I would like a horsey ride please. (Giddy - up)

‘hmmm - may’ means help me (Noah)

‘prittypritty’ means I am beautiful, look at me. (Ivy)

‘barfly’ butterfly. (Ivy)

"arrarrarrarr’ means there is a dog barking outside or I can see a dog.

‘weeooh weeooh’  I am  very tired but by making this sound I hope to keep myself awake. (Ivy - ism)

New words  and phrases that everyone can understand that are commonly used in this house now are …

‘get down’! I wonder why they know how to say that?

‘door, close it’. Usually used when they have gotten into a cupboard and they see me coming.

‘get out’ Used in context of wanting to get out of the bath or in telling the dogs to go outside.

‘gotta go’ Started off as a Noah-ism but now both use it. Self explanitory.

‘joosh’ juice.

‘no’ self explanitory and said by both ALOT.

‘nigh - night’  goodnight.

Of course there are all the standard words like Mum (mymum as Noah says) Dad, bubba (what they often call each other and what they call any baby they see in real life or in photos, Immy, Maddy (marmar), Lily (liddleliddle), AJ and Mal. Hello, bye, hot (often used when they know they are not supposed to touch something, as in ‘don’t touch the fire it’s hot!’). Up with arms raised, down with bodies twisted in a downward motion. Shoes is a common one too.

I’m sure there are more.

We still use lots of Immy and Maddy words in our day to day living…  ‘Squidge’ for vegemite, ‘mamitch’ for sandwich. Lily had some pearlers too…’snotrils’ for nostrils and ‘foot sleeves’ for pants. I want to remember all these little things. I need to hang onto them for when they are grown up.

Today we had Lily’s party. Her friends were well behaved, well mannered and lovely. Her party was completely opposite to Imogen and Madeline’s a fortnight ago.  It was a joy to have these girls in our home.The time went so quickly and I felt relaxed and happy. Lily had an absolute ball!

Twelve months ago my beautiful friend Trish was in hospital, waiting for her twin boys to be born. Everyone in this household was on tenderhooks, waiting for the message that Sam and Joel had arrived safely.

I met Trish through Belly Belly when I was looking for information on trying to conceive after losing a baby. We joined at almost the same time. There were a few of us. Bec, who had lost her daughter, Georgia, Kirsty, whose son Alex had died, Sarah and her angel Lachlan, Trish with her gorgeous Charlotte and me. We were all on the same journey at around the same time.

Trish and I became friends. When I found out she was pregnant, I cried my eyes out. When I discovered she was having twins I cried even harder. I was so happy for her.

Over the three years I have known her Trish has been there for me through everything. Through the grief of losing WIlliam, to the discovery that I was pregnant. Even though she was waiting to conceive, and her heart must have been aching for her Charlotte and wishing fro that elusive positive pregnancy test, she lifted my spirits as I worried myself senseless over Ivy and Noah’s pregnancy. She celebrated their birth and she has been there through every anniversary for Will, every scary moment with the babies, every happy and sad moment. She has been a true friend, so tonight on the eve of her babies’ first birthday I want to celebrate her!

Congratulations Trish! Hoping you have the happiest of birthing days and that tomorrow is filled with happiness, fond memories of Samuel and Joel’s birth and of new memories made.

Thank you for being the person that you are. You are an amazing woman and I am a better person for having met you. I wish you every happiness and dream come true!

Sorry.

This is going to be a long one but I promise I’ll pepper it with lots of photos.

First of all,

Happy Birthday Lily!  9 today! I can barely believe that my ‘bubba’ is nine.

Where do I start to tell you everything that we have been up to in the last week? To some it might not seem like alot. There have been no late night outings for couples, no romantic dinners for two, no weekend getaways but for some reason our days have all run into each other…a ball of activities, some so small but they all add to make up the chaos of the week just gone. I feel as though I have hardly seen David with his constant comings and goings into the early morning crispness and the dark Wintery nights. I have felt largely as though I was operating as a single parent (with a lodger) for most of the week but such is life when your husband works in Sydney and you live in the boonies.

We went to see our ECHN Dierdre. She is lovely and calming and grandmotherly and everything you want in a support person.

Ivy and Noah were evil. Just evil. They found the stand-on scales and proceeded to stand on them, sit on them, jump on them and wobble them back and forth until the constant clunk clunk clunk became too much for the caregiver and the mother. They thought it was funny. I did not. They pulled out every toy, whinged, ate every bit of food that I had in the baby bag, whinged some more, drank both drinks, banged at the door for release from the room and when it was not instant, they whinged and cried and wailed! I was never so pleased to leave a place. I felt clostrophobic and ashamed that my babies had essentially turned into monsters! Deirdre was sympathetic, allowed me my time and left me with assurances that there WAS help out there for Ivy’s sleep (or lack there of) issues. She listened to my doctor troubles, weighed and measured my now huge babies and asked all the right questions for an 18 month check up and yet I walked away tense and upset.

I am at a loss as to what is wrong with me. I look at them and feel happy and sad that they are growing up. The last 18 months haven’t been easy but at the same time, perhaps they were easier then than now. Toddlerhood does not suit Ivy and Noah well. They are full on ALL of the time. They move constantly and demolish all that is around them. Because there is such a huge gap between babies, perhaps I have forgotten what toddlers are like, perhaps I was not prepared this time.

The evening saw the three big kids home from their trip! Oh what excitement when they arrived, tired from their long bus trip home but buzzing with all the news of what they had seen. Ivy had not slept the night before and the day (see above) had been busy and messy. As we drove up to the school, looking for a place to park, I noticed a space…"Park there", I said to David, spying the bus zone, "it’s night time. It’s not as though there are going to be any buses coming through". David just looked at me. He had a bizarre look emerging from his face. A cross of the incredulous and ridiculous. "Poor Tiggy"! he exclaimed, "you must be tired". It took me a few seconds to work out why he was laughing at me. Of course there would be buses coming through. In fact two, with seventy something children aboard! I’m not blonde. Truly but I could have been on Friday night, with a ditzy comment like that ejecting itself from my mouth before my brain had time to retract it. Oh dear. My excuse was being so absolutely tired that I couldn’t think straight. I’m sticking to it!

And so we travelled home, our bus and house full again. It was nice. I felt contented. Until morning… when camp re - entry began. (insert twighlight zone music here)

It seems over the four days of travelling with peers that the children had forgotten how to do their chores. AJ heaved himself out of bed to go to soccer without lifting a finger to take out the garbage. Lily and Mal went to watch. Ivy and Noah and Imogen and Madeline and I made our way into town to pick up a few things. Everything was annoying me, from the way they were speaking (or should I say speakin’) to the way they walked. Slouched, hands in pockets, head down, feet shuffling…need I say more? Everything I asked of them seemed to be some form of torment, with eyes rolling and shoulders slumping. When we arrived home, I got more of the same from AJ. by Saturday night I was over it. My washing pile had gone from a healthy four baskets to a heart stopping ten, after they unpacked their bags! There was mess from one end of the house to the other and NOBODY was lifting a finger to correct the damage.

Unfortunately there was more of the same on the Sunday morning. Lily’s friend came over to go ice skating and that one little thing gave me the leverage I needed to bring things into order. If the rooms were not clean, there would be no outing. If the attitude didn’t stop, there would be no skating. Miraculously things started to get done. Amazingly we were out the door by 10:30 and even better was that all of us ended up having a great time. Noah and Ivy discovered hot chocolate and also that it tastes even better if it is someone else’s. Noah found a ride in aeroplane. You know the rides that you insert $2 and you get a minute of jiggling movement before it dies. At least this one was already out of order so the babies were left to do the jiggling themselves. They had a ball while the others skated around the rink. Mal (who couldn’t even stand in his skates) found a plastic chair and firmly planted his bottom on it. They use them on the ice for the younger children to find their balance, a bit like an old person’s walker. Maddy then pushed him around the ice. Their smiles were infectious. We went home and had the first of many cakes to celebrate Lily’s birthday.

Come Monday morning, I thought we would be back to normal and in the swing of things. How wrong I was!

While David made an early exit from the homefront, Noah was just waking up (very early for him). I asked the kids to get cracking as I wanted to be out of the house by 9:30 - 10am at the latest. Easy, right? No not easy when the children don’t want to get dressed, when they don’t want to do anything. When Noah decides at 9am that he wants to ‘go - carcar!’ right then and there and when I make a turn towards the bathroom (for a much deserved AND needed shower) has a complete meltdown. Banging on the door, wailing  ‘carcar carcar carcar!’ When Ivy joins in because she feels miserable and boys wrestle and yell at the top of their lungs. When Malachy has a severe case of Mondayitis (think shirt on backwards and shorts in 14 degree weatther. Think changing into ANOTHER pair of shorts when he is asked to put long pants on. Think shoes on the wrong feet and then crocs with socks on because he can’t be stuffed doing his shoelaces up himself). By the time we actually reached the car, it was a wonder I had any hair left!

Noah, who by that time had worked himself into a lather of baby sweat over getting in the blasted car, was in a horrible mood. He pulled Ivy’s hair and pulled at her jumper, so she was upset too. I was at my wits end by the time we reached the end of the street and also in a dither. I turned to the distraght Noah and used my assertive mummy voice…’Noah, that’s enough! Settle yourself down!’ and with that said Noah turned his head and fell asleep! Just like that. The rest of the trip to Sydney was blissfully quiet.

The reason for our trip was for Imogen, who had her first appointment at Westmead hospital with the orthodontist.

For those who don’t know, Imogen and David have a genetic condition called ectodermal dysplasia. It is something that effects the skin, teeth and the nails and the hair. When Immy was diagnosed it gave us an answer to many things but it also gave her dental care under the medicare scheme. Our last check up was well over a year ago and we were told then that because Immy’s case was mild that we may not make it to the top of the list for orthodontic care. We were very surprised when the letter came. The orthodontist, Peter was very nice. He spoke directly to Imogen and then to me. He described in detail what would happen for Immy over the next nine months. Braces first and building up of teeth. This will take a few years to complete but the end result, he felt, would be wonderful. I have to say I walked away from there very happy.

We had dinner with David’s parents and then made our way back home.

Beware! There is a hurricane around at the moment. Actually, two. Hurricane Noah and Ivy, collectively, the Tregenza Tornado (ok, I know technically they are different but for descriptive purposes we can consider them one and the same). Watch out! Take cover! They will demolish your home! Especially if you leave them unattended for a split second, while you empty your very full bladder. They work as a team, you know. They lie in wait for you to relax and then before you know it the kitchen has been bulldozed. While you are cleaning up the kitchen they make their way to the loungeroom and pull out all the nappies that you have stacked and packed, afterwards moving into the bathroom where they discover your hiding spot for parental toothbrushes and proceed to brush their own teeth, (along with snotty noses and cheeks), brush their hair ("awww, pretty!") and when they have finished grooming themselves with said toothbrushes, they decide that they will copy Mum and scrub the mould from the bathroom tiles! Beware of the storm that will follow when you ring your husband to ask for new toothbrushes (after giving him a full rundown of what has just occured). You will learn the many ways of saying ‘eeewww’ when you are faced with the aftermath of hurricane Ivy and Noah.

Life is NEVER dull with toddler twins in the home!

Ok, Easter is officially over in this house! If I ever see, smell or taste another chocolate egg again, it will be too soon! UGH, chocolate overload, my friends is NOT a pretty sight in a thirty - something woman. OOOOHHHH, my belly. I know, I know, no sympathy for self inflicted wounds. It was fun until last night. Then, I just needed for all chocolate to be gone from our home. I am seriously starting the cabbage soup diet on Wednesday! Anything to get away from chocolate. I need to purge all those impurities from my system, so that I can be ready…for Christmas, the ultimate day in over indulgence!!!! LOL! Seriously though, I am sick of chocolate. If I had to gage seratonin levels due to eating of said indulgence, I would be waging a bet that I would be considered an EXTREMEMLY happy person, right now. I’m sure those levels of happy hormone are dangerous.

Had a nice quiet, rainy day. The boys had their access visit with their mother (always a not fun time for the family afterwards) and the girls, babies, Dave and I pottered off to the local video store, where the rest of the town had already been, so we were only able to borrow the DVDs that nobody wanted, Oh and the kids flicks that we have seen 1000 times before. No, I jest. We did get Charlotte’s Web. When I watched it, all I could wonder was…is Dakota Fanning aging at all???? I think that girl is one of those kids who is never going to grow up. She’ll be 30 and still look six!  The girls enjoyed it and another pre teeny type movie called Step Up. Immy, my little drama, dancing, all round performer, romantic, thought it was "the best movie she’d ever seen". (She says that with every movie that has a hunky male dancer in it, I’ve noticed). We ate fish and chips and generally slothed around the house.

I want to tell you about the recent move in bath time activities in this house. It used to go something like this; The big kids run a bath and take turns going in, as pairs, sometimes topping up the water with warmer additions. While this is progressing, I feed and bath the babies and by the time they have had a little play, one of the big girls are usually out to help me dry and dress the pair.

This is how it has gone of late. I ask the big kids to start the bath routine. No one moves. The babies get fed and I start their bath routine, continually reminding the others that dinner will be ready soon. Still there is little movement until I redirect their energy (or lack there of) into running the tap for baths. Most nights I get asked if they can skip…what is that? As a pre teen, I think you are at your smelliest. It’s a time when a kid REALLY needs to wash, why do they suddenly think they can get away without cleaning themselves???? When I argue my point, I am then asked if they can shower instead of bath and even though I constantly remind them that a shower uses up to ten litres of water a minute, they do not budge. Another new pre teen thing. I compromise and say a short one only and all girls in at once and then both boys. Anything for five fresh bodies at the dinner table. Most nights they are pretty good but some nights I shudder to think what my family is doing for the water supply in NSW.Not only am I getting rebellion in the 9 - 11 year old bracket, the babies have decided that they like to move and splash and try to turn on taps while I am bathing them. Sometimes, I think I come out of the bathroom wetter than them! They have started this game (for want of a better word) where as soon as I get onto my hands and knees, they splash me. If I stand up, they get up, throw their legs up and over the top of the bath and yell "geeowwwwt" (get out in twin speak). I get down again to wash them and immediately they start in with the splashing and the squealing and the giggling. Sometimes they slip and slide and my heart jumps into my throat but mostly the are limbre little bath pixies, who move so quickly, it’s sometimes hard to catch them to wash their crawling feet (where the tops of their feet are blackened with floor mank) or to wash the buttery sandwich leftovers out of their hair. Some nights I am exhausted just from bath time alone, mostly I laugh though and enjoy the moments. Knowing, all too well that there will come a day in 9 - 11 years time, when they won’t want to bath, pretend to bath, skip their bath or when I say bath, think I mean shower.

 

 

My next gripe for today is about girls not wanting to brush their hair over  the school holiday period. Ok, I understand that it gets a little old having your hair raked up into a ponytail every day and reminded that it is nit season for 90% of the school year and I DO allow them some slack when school break comes but really, don’t they know that if they don’t brush their hair for a number of days that it WILL get knotty and if it does become encrusted with dredlocky knots, that when your mother comes along to brush them out it IS going to hurt. ALOT.

My mum used to say to me, you can’t put an old head on new shoulders, that kids need to learn the hard way. Ok, but can’t they learn the hard way with shiny, neatly brushed hair? Is that too much to ask? *SIGH* I guess I’m missing the point here. I know Mum is right, they will learn through their own mistakes but why can’t they do it later, when they are older and living in their own flat, with a housemate or a boyfriend to (kindly) brush out their knots, why now, when there are three long haired beauties (and another one rapidly growing hers) and a mother (whose hair is VERY short) who just doesn’t get it???

When my own long hair knotted ouches got too much for my mum, when I was in fifth grade, strangely enough, she took me to "Bruno’s" and had it all cut off in a time when being able to sit on your hair during school was REALLY cool. I can’t seem to do that to my girls. I sigh and moan and carry on but when it all boils down to it, I like their hair long. Whinge two over.

Finally my last purge of disgust comes when I discovered that Ivy’s newly grometted ears (actually only her left) were discharging blood and pus. Of course it was a public holiday. For city dwellers, this probably wouldn’t pose much of a problem but for those of you living in the boonies, like us,it’s easy to understand how something as simple as going to a GP, for a script of antibiotics, to fight off obvious infection, can become a living nightmare.

To start with there was NOTHING open in Cessnock. We phoned the hospital, to ask if we should present there. We knew what the problem was, it wouldn’t take long. Their answer?

"We are very busy, if you think she needs to come in, then you’d better bring her up but remember, this is an emergency department. We can’t give you anymore information over the phone". That was it. What were we supposed to do with that? She was by no means an emergency but if we didn’t do something she could become one.

So we then moved onto the next hospital (remember, we are out in the boonies here, friends) they, at least had an after hours GP service but the receptionist told us our area was not covered and so we could either present to ED or have a phone conversation with an RN. We took the RN. She was very direct and thought that young Ivy best be seen by a GP. She phoned our local hospital who gave HER the exact same speel as us. When she came back to the phone, she offered us a long wait at said hospital or an appointment at the next town hospital (3/4 of an hour away) to see a doctor. We took the appointment. That went very smoothly and with our script in hand we set about finding a pharmacy. Easy, right? No, not easy at all. We had to drive another twenty minutes to find one. On the way home I realised that Ivy’s secretions had not been swabbed and that was a bugbear with her paediatrician, that they never swabbed! I ummed and arrhed for a while but in the end I started the antibiotics and gave her another dose of panadol. I guess I’ll deal with my lack of swab results when next I see the paed!

Wow, this has turned into a monster post. Good thing there are photos to break it up!! LOL. It’s late and with all that off my chest, I think I am going to bedfordshire!