Hatches and Matches

If I wrote a list of things that are awesome it would definitely look something like this: Prosecco, the girlies, Toffee Crisps, weddings, horror movies from the 80’s and ‘Modern Family’. You may have noticed that Prosecco comes before my daughters. This is deliberate. I know at some point in the future I will be disappointed to find myself very low on a list of ‘Things I love’. Probably above ‘Daddy’ but below ‘Sausages’.

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Gumtree W**ker

Dear Gumtree W**ker,
Do you recall how we emailed all week about my fridge? Remember when you said you would be here at 10.00am? Are you aware that when you do tw**ty things like NOT SHOWING UP, it effects other people? You wouldn’t know this, but my husband has been away for work all week. That means I have had a frazzled brain and the aura of a woman ON THE EDGE for the previous six days from looking after 1 year old twins by myself. To be frank, you’re lucky that I don’t have the energy to hunt you down and make you PAY for making me unnecessarily prepare for your arrival (and the fridge for that matter – I was looking forward to getting a bit of space back in my garage and forty quid in my pocket). Because of you Gumtree W**ker, this is how my morning went:

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The Great Poo-Dini!

*Puts on X Factor voice* “Introducing the show-stopping, jaw-dropping awe-inspiring….Great POOOOOOO-DINI! You will be astounded that she can remove her pyjama bottoms without removing her sleeping bag! You will gasp as she wriggles and jives to free her legs! You will be entranced when you realise that she escaped from her nappy. Your feeling of delight at these amazing feats will quickly disappear when you discover in the bottom of the sleeping bag…a big squashed poo. A round of applause for the Great Poo-dini! Now that’s magic!” (Except it’s a horrific reality for me.)

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Baby Brain Teaser

Baby brain – apparently it doesn’t actually exist. Or so says a recent study. But you know what? The study was only of 21 people. It’s an odd number, and also, it’s an ODD number. Surely, if you’re going to be making a big, emotive statement like that, you ought to back it up with years of research? What’s the real benefit of proving this? What made them decide that it was worthwhile spending time and money on being able to tell pregnant ladies that the daft things they’ve being doing are nothing to do with growing a little person? It’s not scientific – you’re just dumb! Ha ha ha laughs the smug researcher. It has the same impact as asking, at any time, in any place or in any scenario…’Do you have PMT?????’ You’re just going to make a lot of emotional people A LOT more emotional…and potentially get yourself a smack in the mouth in the process.

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In the Pink. (Again.)

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.

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Don’t be a D**K

I’m not speaking from a position of authority and I’m certainly not advising anyone on how to maintain a strong relationship, but my husband and I seem to be on to a good thing right now. Obviously, that could change at any moment. Probably by the time I’ve reached the end of this post in fact. After all this time I think I may have figured out what makes our relationship work. Our favourite thing to say to each other is: ‘Don’t be a d**k.’

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Adventures in babysitting

Today I am looking after my two year old niece as well as my 16 month old twins. I’m a teeny weeny bit terrified as I’m not usually someone who is asked to look after children. The last time I babysat was about six years ago. My friend was desperate for an evening out and his daughter was 7 years old at the time – even I could manage that. It was great actually. We had a carpet picnic, played hairdressers and watched ‘Alvin and the Chipmunks’. There was only one small incident. I had a glass of wine. My little friend picked up the glass and drank from it. ‘Erm…does your Daddy let you have wine?’ I asked. ‘No, he doesn’t. You’re the only one that does.’ What??? That’s not fair. I’ve just been played by a 7 year old. ‘Let’s keep this between the two of us then, yeah?’

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