The last time I peed in front of dh was during our student days, on our way home from a pancake and tequila party. I thought I had made myself invisible behind a bush but drunkenness had weakened my hiding skills. Dh and all of the people leaving the theatre were treated to the sight of me weeing all over my boots on a cold February evening. At least this time we were actually in a toilet, albeit in a baby changing room.

In our old life, pre-twinnies we were season ticket holders at Harlequins. Pregnancy and the arrival of R and G put paid to that for this season and probably a few seasons to come. For Christmas, my sister gave us two tickets to the final home game of the season. Sunday 4th May seemed unimaginably far away on 25th December.

As the weather forecast was favourable, we decided to take the girls with us. Well, it was that or not go at all and it seemed a shame to waste very good seats in the ‘posh’ stand. So at approximately 2pm last Sunday there we were, having just got into the ground trying to work out how we could both go to the loo with a baby strapped to each of us. In the end we went for our toilette en masse and jiggled around a bit (with babies, I can perform bodily functions without jiggling although I found out that dh can’t, not that I was looking or anything!) and it was fine.

We were sitting in the posh stand, which is traditionally filled with grumpy old men sporting blazers and old school ties. On the only other occasion we sat there, I got told off by a chap of advancing years wearing a pair of bottle green cords and a wax jacket to SIT DOWN after I DARED to indulge in a spontaneous action and stood up to celebrate when Quins scored a try. What would these gents make of two small(ish), noisy little girls?

They were marvellous. We stood up to let a blazer past and he leaned down to speak to me. I was preparing myself for a rant about this not being a suitable place for a baby when to my surprise he bellowed: ‘MARVELLOUS! STARTING ‘EM YOUNG EH? I DO APPROVE!’. I was so shocked that I just about managed to squeak ‘Absolutely!’ before he disappeared. There were actually quite a few babies and toddlers there so R and G weren’t too outnumbered.

The girls did really well, considering that they are suffering with the teething at the moment. G beamed at anyone that paid her the slightest bit of attention and I even caught her grinning at the pitch as several hundred pounds of beefy males thundered around. R, normally the more observant one of the two was in uber-dribbly mode, had a little moan and groan (she was drowned out by the chanting) and fell asleep during the second half. No mean feat considering that she was upright in a sling (albeit sitting on my lap) and that the noise around us was thunderous. She even managed to stay slumped as we left, leading a few wags to comment that they felt like doing similar. Quins lost.

It was fine, but bloody hard work. Isn’t everything with babies? With one baby you can share the responsibility, one can look after it while the other goes to the loo, gets chips, etc but with two it’s like taking a baby on your own. We fell into bed exhausted at 8.30pm after putting the girls to bed as soon as we got home.

I’m really glad we did it because it was a challenge but I sometimes wish that we could do something now without planning it with military precision and drawing up a logistics chart beforehand. G was definitely impressed, R less so but she wasn’t feeling her best. All in all (and with nearly a week of rose-tinted hindsight) it was a success.

Next challenge might be a Twenty:20 cricket game. The girls have a choice of teams as I’m a Surrey supporter and dh favours Kent. With their respective track records, I wouldn’t be surprised if they girls took up tiddly-winks instead!