Having babies makes your world becomes a lot smaller for a while. Getting out of the house is a massive ordeal, friends (understandably and fortunately) don’t pop by unannounced and teeny tiny things that didn’t seem very important previously become incredibly exciting or incredibly irritating. ‘Yay! I actually had a shower.’ ‘They drank their milk without being spewing it back up into the Moses basket!’ ‘Only one ‘poo-cano’™ to deal with today!’ are all things to be celebrated. You accept that it’ll be really hard when they are so tiny, which is probably why you take your frustrations out on other things. Small irritations swiftly become big irritations. My irritation was baby clothes.
I never used to have a problem with the colour pink….that was until I had twin girls. It’s so mind-numbingly dull dressing them in pink baby grows every single flippin’ day. As I didn’t make it out of the house very often, I would be looking at the same four walls and (two gorgeous babies wearing…) the same pink sleep suits. It probably didn’t help that the girlies had to wear premature baby clothes so the choice is pretty much limited to pink, white or blue. It’s easiest to keep the babies in baby grows all of the time as they are easy to take off and put on when another vom or poo explosion happens, but one of the joys of having brand new babies is dressing them. To be fair, I probably could have done more about it, but when you need to choose between shopping around for more interesting looking premature baby grows and actually sleeping for more than a (staggered) four hours, you know what’ll win.
In rented properties you’ll always find magnolia walls. It gives me ‘beige-rage’. On premature girl babies you’ll find pink baby grows. It gives me the ‘pink stinks’!?! (It kind of works – it was either ‘stinks’ or ‘sinks’! If you can think a better rhyme – let me know!)
When my girlies grew to normal baby size (and no longer needed to be tube fed) I started to be able to dress them in outfits that didn’t have scratch mitts. That’s when I noticed that so many boys’ outfits are adorable. I am perfectly happy to put my little girls in head-to-toe blue. Understandably it’s difficult to tell boys and girls apart when they are under the age of two. Clothes are the indicators to the rest of the world of who they are. However, I don’t really care if my girlies often look like the opposite sex and I’m pretty sure they don’t care either. Wandering around town brings comments such as ‘What lovely boys!’ I smile and say thank you. ‘What are their names?’ I pause. This is awkward. ‘Erm…Isabella and Charlotte.’ Cue judgemental look.
It’s lucky that I’m sick of pink as I’m not very domesticated and often mess up the clothes wash. Things don’t stay their original colour for very long anyway. During my life I have shrunk and accidently dyed numerous items. Recently there must have been something dark blue in the washing machine when I washed the girlies clothes. Due to this, ONE cream fleece lined cardigan is now a far less charming grey colour whilst the other is still a lovely cream fleece lined cardigan. (This one didn’t make it into the same wash load.) I thought about recreating the exact same washing machine conditions for the second cardigan. They might not be a nice colour, but at least they would match again. It would be one less irritation I guess.
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