House of Twins

A normal bath time. R and G sitting in the bath, facing each other and splashing about. G started singing 'Ro ro ro ro' and R grabbed her hands. Dh and I looked at each other - what were they doing? The girls started rocking backwards and forwards, still holding hands. They both started singing 'Ro ro ro'

We realised that they were doing 'Row row row your boat' together. They didn't quite have the song off-pat but they knew all the actions. G led the singing and as soon as she finished, R would put her hands out again and say 'More, more, more!' and they kept doing it over and over again. They looked so happy and kept giggling between songs.

It's one of those moments where you look at each other and just smile and say wow. This is one of the great things about having twins. We're so lucky.

On Friday the girls and I attended the first (and hopefully not the last) meeting of some of the POPOTOMs Mums and twins who live in the south-east (and one on holiday from the south-west).

We've all (the mums, not the babies obviously!) been chatting online for over a year. Some of them even read my blog occasionally. I was excited but obviously a little apprehensive beforehand. I mean, I was fairly sure that it would be fine but you never quite know do you? I needn't have worried. We just launched into it like we were having one of our MSN chat nights and didn't even bother with introductions. Everyone was lovely in 'real life' and it was clear that none of us had a virtual persona (no hairy men with beards anyway!). We really were just normal people who happened to give birth to twins in 2007 and 2008.

R and G had a great time. There were seven boys and only one other girl there, so there were plenty of flirting opportunities. At one point my two were sat on a garden swing seat being rocked by a couple of the boys with another couple clambering up to join them! I'm amazed that R and G didn't order their men to fetch them pre-peeled grapes!

It was a lovely day and the children raced around the garden while the mums chatted. The other mums told me that I worried too much and that they now wouldn't believe a bad word I wrote in my journal as my girls were lovely - R and G were in full-on performance mode throughout of course!

After lunch we gathered our children up for a group photograph - getting 10 babies and toddlers to stand still for long enough proved to be quite a feat and - idiot that I am - I forgot my camera but luckily G (supermum to two sets of twin boys) took loads of pics and so we now have photographic evidence of the day! Big thanks to S for hosting and to H and A for allowing lots of other children to invade their beautiful house (and play with their toys) for a few hours.

It was a pleasure to meet S, G (D) and D. R and G loved meeting O, J, C, T, E, M, H and A. (why did I start using initials for people all those months ago? That last sentence looks like code! Anyway, roll on the twin mums' big night out (without children or partners) in August!

Until about 3 years ago, I hated baseball. I'm English. I grew up with cricket. Baseball is just glorified rounders.

In 2006 I had a conversion. Dh had watched baseball for a few years but had failed to convert me during our early courtship. When he was a student, he used to video the Sunday night/Monday morning coverage of basball games on Channel 5. I openly mocked him for doing so.

Things changed when we got Sky and he started Sky+ ing games. In a 'If I can't beat 'em' moment I decided to watch a recording of a game. Dh deserves a medal for repeatedly patiently explaining the rules and conventions of this deceptively simple game to me. Over time, I became a fan. I even started following a team - Boston Red Sox.

I found myself checking the TV schedules to see what game 5 was showing on Sunday and Wednesday nights. I fell in love with the 5 studio presentation and the legends that are Jonny Gould and Josh Chetwynd (not forgetting Erik the hot-dog loving producer) and looked forward to watching the recordings of the games 'off tape' twice a week.

This sounds incredibly daft, but they helped me through the early part of my pregnancy with the girls. I was terribly ill with morning sickness that lasted day and night for ten weeks. I got through it by lying on the sofa watching the baseball games that we Sky+. R and G kicked me for the first time when I was listening to John Miller and Joe Morgans' commentary one evening. They must have liked their deep voices!

I even got a shout-out on the show in June 2007, thanks to dh. On the day that we found out we were having twins, dh e-mailed the show to tell them and Jonny Gould read his e-mail out on air. When I saw the recording I nearly collapsed with excitement!

The Red Sox won the World Series that year and I gave birth to the girls. What a great year.

We continued to watch recordings of the games in 2008, often whilst feeding one of the girls. It may have been my imagination but I'm sure they reacted to John and Joe's voices.

At the end of 2008, Channel 5 decided to stop showing the baseball. I was hoping that the powers that be would listen to the various lobbying groups and reverse their decision, but as I write, we are unable to watch baseball on terrestrial tv.

I am always quite cynical about the power of television and it may sound terribly cheesy but 5's baseball coverage became a feature in our lives for a few years. Now it's gone and I miss it terribly. I hope that someone, somewhere starts showing baseball games in the UK again (we could pay for a subscription to ESPN but it wouldn't be the same) and allows JG (a.k.a. the Gouldfish) and JC to present the UK coverage. The four of us at the HoT would be very happy if they did.

Well, the inevitable happened this afternoon. R pulled a little boy in the park. Blond curly hair, naturally. Seems to be her 'thing'. G was off her game, 'suffering' with a cold so R had a free run at her prey. They circled each other, the boy chased her, R let him. He bent down and gave her a hug. She went all shy and reached for dh, all the while watching the little boy and smiling. G sniffled away in the background.

They don't half grow up fast these days.

I have such a great life. Why can't I just enjoy and appreciate what I have without worrying about what bad things might or might not lie ahead?

An example. G's sleeping has improved considerably recently. Can I enjoy this? No. I'm waiting for it all to go horribly wrong again. I'm even afraid to write about good nights with her in case I jinx it and we go back to frequent night waking.

Another example. Dh or someone else comments on how well-behaved the girls are. I immediately start fretting that they will turn into horrible children overnight, or become nightmare teeangers, or..or something bad. I can't allow myself to sit back and be smug because something bad will inevitably happen.

Example #3. A random stranger tells be how cute and beautiful the girls are. My reflex reply? 'Oh they look like their father'. Or alternatively: 'They are lovely sometimes, but can also be hard work'. Why can't I just take the compliment and say 'Thank you'?

I know that all of this is incredibly stupid and has far more to do with my own neuroses than anything to do with the girls, who are actually all of the nice things I've said and many more. I need to learn to enjoy the good bits, not fret about the bad things that might not even happen and be more grateful for what i have instead of lying awake at night waiting for the bogeyman to take everything away.

...or Welcome to the Jungle. I'm in a GnR mood tonight.

We took our Sweet Child(ren)'O Mine (I'll stop now) to visit some friends of ours today. They have a lovely house. They don't have children. Chaos ensued.

Within a few minutes of arriving, R tipped a bowl of crisps over and proceeded to tread them into the carpet. I hastily moved the nice glass coasters and candle set from the coffee table as the girls advanced towards them with mischevious grins on their faces. I acted as a human shield, protecting the television, dvd player and Sky box whilst simultaneously balancing a drink in one hand and distracting G with a toy in the other.

We were asked whether we wanted to eat the BBQ in or outside. Obvious choice. R pretended to eat sausages and threw them onto the grass when she thought we weren't looking. We tried to catch up with our friends, having not seen them for a few months. Every conversation followed this pattern: 'So, how is your job going?... R stop massaging potato into your hair...do you find that...G why have you thrown your fork on the floor?...sorry what were you saying? etc.

In the end we put the girls up for a nap in their travel cot and after 5 minutes of protest they actually slept for over an hour. We actually had to wake them up. I always find that nap time is the quickest part of the day. I swear someone speeds up time without me noticing. In that hour we managed to finish off lunch and dessert and actually have proper grown up conversations...well, I say 'grown up' but you know what I mean. It was nice. It was good.

Once awake, the girls resumed their thorough exploration of the house and our friends spent most of the time preventing them from climbing the stairs. Just before we left, R completed the demolition job by systematically removing every single dvd from two long shelves and 'kindly' handing them to my friend with a loud TA after each one.

Hopefully they have managed to put their house back together now...

Schoos? It's the way the girls say it. We're trying to correct them...

It's been an expensive shoe week, partly of our own making. We spotted some tiny Converse trainers in a sale and bought the girls a pair each. Usually I try and get them different colours of things but all they had was black. To make them different, G has white laces in her pair and R has black laces in hers.

We also took them to get their feet measured yesterday in Clarks and they have both grown another half size, so new 'proper' shoes needed as well. The Converse are a size 5 but the girls are actually now both size 4.5. Their other shoes were size 4's, so new ones needed.

We picked out a couple of pairs we liked with buckles on, having learnt our lesson not to buy them shoes with velcro fastenings until they actually need to put them on and take them off themselves. Alas, like Goldilocks the shoes were variously too small, too big and too tight and so we were advised to go to a different shop that sold Start-Rite shoes.

That we did and found the girls proper Start-Rite t-bar shoes with lovely buckles on. R has a pink pair and G a navy blue pair - they look black to me but apparently they are actually blue. Hmm. They are what I call proper old-fashioned girls shoes and they are lovely - none of this new-fangled velcro rubbish!

The girls have already worked out how to get the Converse off, despite fiendish double knots. The intricacies of the buckles on the Start-Rites have defeated them thus far. Here's hoping...

G had her first 'proper accident' the other day. A proud day in the life of any parent.

The girls are pretty good at crawling up and down the stairs now. So good in fact that I took my eyes off G as she reached the last couple of steps on Monday morning and she decided to take a flying leap onto the wooden floor.

Thankfully, the damage was minor. She bit down on her lip with one of her (very few) teeth as she hit the deck and broke the skin. It bled profusely for such a tiny scrape and G and I both got a little bit of blood on our tops. Pingu got a little speck of blood on his white front. It's tough being a cuddly bedtime pal.

The cut weas relatively easy to clean up and it certainly hasn't hindered her eating or drinking. She just looks like she's been in the ring with Amir Khan.

Although it was just a (very) minor accident, I felt so guilty. Why didn't I watch her more closely? I guess guilt is the default setting of any parent but these things happen (and worse) and the majority of kids turn out just fine. G will be back to her usual fabulous self in a few days.

I don't know where they get it from (no joke - I really don't have a clue) but R and G are both complete and utter flirts. I took them to the park this afternoon for their daily constitutional and they were doing their usual thing of disappearing off in different directions while I run between them with the buggy when a little boy with blond curly hair toddled in to view. He was probably a couple of months older than the girls and he stopped and smiled at them. G noticed him first and treated him to a little smile and giggle. R turned round to face him and I swear someone started playing Puppy Love because her eyes widened, her face lit up and he was treated to a big smile and a little wave.

As G would say, UH-OH! Sixteen months old and they are already competing for the affections of the same boy. I wasn't prepared for this to happen for another...oooh...12 years. I'm not ready for my life to become an American teen drama, although all the mothers on those things are ridiculously young and good looking (MILFs if you will) so maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

I'm digressing again. Where was I? Oh yes.

The little boy stood and waved and smiled. R and G continued to stand stock-still and smile back. A flirty face-off. His mum and I smiled at each other and I made a lame joke about it not being wise to chase the same boy. We stood there for another minute or so. Eventually, the mum picked the boy up and they said goodbye and walked off in the opposite direction. I went to carry on our walk and G came with me but R didn't. She stood, watching the boy disappear with a sad look on her face. I had to distract her with a sighting of a squirrel (or teddy - everything cuddly is a teddy apparently) to get her to come with us.

Phew! Crisis averted, or so I thought. A couple of minutes later, I noticed G approach another little boy, with his dad this time. R followed. He had blond curly hair. Deja vu? Oh yes.

Visions of a future filled with play-dates, sleepovers, curfews, meetings with unsuitable boyfriends and arguments over the cleanliness of bedrooms are becoming rather close to becoming reality.

Question is, when do I get my facelift?!

...I peed on a stick and changed our lives. Little did I know that a little miracle has happened inside me and two tiny clusters of cells had divided and two embryos were growing.

Two years later, those embryos look like this :

G has found true love in the form of a little Pingu soft toy. I've had him for years (I have been a Pingu fan since my teenage years) and can't even remember where I got him from. When we moved house I put him, along with the rest of my (extensive)soft toy collection in the nursery. G 'discovered' him sitting on the bookshelf last week and it was love at first sight.

G won't sleep without Pingunow. She carried him downstairs in the morning and only releases him from her (tight) clutches when she drinks her milk, at which point we smuggle him upstairs. When she walks towards her cot she calls out for 'teddy' and gets distressed if she can't see him. When they are reunited she clutches him to her chest (his face has to be buried in her neck) and won't let him go without a fight.

A rather wonderful by-product of this love affair is that G seems to be sleeping much better. It may just be a coincidence, but since she started sleeping with Pingu (maybe I should re-phrase that?!), many more smiley faces have appeared onm her sleep chart. In fact, she only seems to get upset in the night now if she wakes and Pingu has 'disappeared' - he's usually at the other end of the cot.

I wondered if she had adoped him because we've been watching episodes of Pingu on the iplayer and he looked familiar but we watched one the other day and she didn't seem to relate her bedtime companion to the plasticine creature on the screen. Whatever, it's lovely that she has taken such a shine to a toy and the sleep thing is quite nice for us.

1. Walking. They are both speedy, confident walkers and now toddle into nursery together. I try to take them out for walks in the park whenever I’m at home as they really enjoy it and it seems to wear them out. I’m so glad that the clocks have changed and the evenings are lighter so that we can go for long walks after the girls’ tea. They aren’t quite at the running stage yet, but I don’t think it’ll be too long.
2. Teeth. Still only 6 each. I think the tooth fairy has stolen the rest.
3. Weight. I have no idea but I reckon they are probably about 24lbs each now.
4. New skills. They can both climb onto their walkers and perform a variety of Evel Knievel poses. The crawl up and down the stairs with ease.
5. Chatting. Now that they’ve mastered walking, they have turned their attention to talking and forming actual words. I was fretting about their lack of clear speech but they seem to be reaching the ‘parrot’ stage and will copy random words. Their latest words include ‘juice’ (used for both water and milk) and ‘teddy’ (which basically describes anything cuddly)
6. Sleep. We’ve moved bedtime to 7pm. G has (touch wood) been sleeping better since she discovered and adopted a small cuddly Pingu as her bedtime companion. As long as Pingu is to hand, she sleeps. We wish she’d found him sixteen months ago...
7. Feeding. They now feed themselves about 90% of the time. In the last couple of weeks they have started feeding themselves yogurt (mostly using a spoon) and cereal. We’ve pretty much dropped the morning and afternoon snacks as they weren’t really eating them and don’t seem to be missing them. They haven’t really started using a fork yet, so I guess that’s the next thing we need to work on.
8. Cross-stitch project. I’ve done a very small amount of work on it this month because I’ve been ridiculously busy. Maybe next month...

Next steps? More words. Running? Mastering using a fork. Teeth? Don’t make me laugh!

Velcro. Me.

We took the girls for a foot check on Friday, as recommended by the friendly sales assistant at Clark's. I think I am possibly the only parent ever to be disappointed that their childrens' feet haven't grown, thus saving them a small fortune in tiny pieces of leather. R's had grown a little bit but not enough to warrant new shoes and G's were exactly the same size as they had been seven weeks ago.

The sales assistant must have read my expression. "Look, I'm not going to sell you new shoes if they don't need them and they really don't. Why don't you come back after the Easter holidays and we'll re-measure them then."

Why was I so disappointed? The girls' current shoes have velcro fastenings and I'm being driven mad by the ripping shoes as G tears them off at every opportunity. In the car. In the buggy. No sooner have we set off than I hear the dreaded rrrrrrip sound, followed by a thud and an 'Uh-oh'. Shoe number 1 has been discarded. Shoe number 2 follows a few seconds later. I hear the rrrrrip sound in my sleep. Honestly.

R keeps her shoes on but G simply won't. The moment G's feet grow she'll be getting shoes with buckle fastenings and we'll see how long it takes her to work them out.