Brace yourselves. It’s another poo post. Time to close the page if you’re squeamish at all.
Today you are 3. It’s not been an easy road to get you this far, fate tried to take you from us early on. You’re tough cookies though, and you fought and showed your courage from the start.
I can’t tell you life is going to be easier now you’re 3. You’ve come so far in the past 3 years, but you still have a long way to go with catching up to your peers. I know you’ll do it, but no matter what, I’m going to pick you up when you fall, and turn you in the right direction when you’re lost.
3 is tough. You guys think you’re big girls now, and I still call you my babies. You are my babies though, and you always will be. I won’t forget holding your tiny hands inside the incubators, or that first precious cuddle we had after you were born. Even though you’re big girls now, I’ll still try to cuddle both of you at the same time like used to. Just don’t wriggle too much.
The road ahead is unsure, monsters. We don’t know what the future holds for you, for us, for anyone. You can be sure that I’m going to be with you on that road, making sure that we clear any obstacles together. We’re a good team, you monsters and me. We fight together, and we charge through life like bulldozers. We’re a little crazy, but when you’ve been down our road, crazy helps us stay happy and healthy.
So here’s to you, my crazy, happy, healthy little monsters. 3 years has flown by, I can’t wait to see you enter your 4th year in the same way you approach life – with enthusiasm, love and a touch of craziness. xx
Let me be the first to say – this is by no means dissing any of my existing friends, especially those who are close to me and have been by my side throughout everything. You are all wonderful, and I value you all.
3 years ago, I was struggling with the TTTS/TAPS diagnosis, endless doctors appointments, not knowing if my children would live or die. I was in a country where I barely spoke the language, with only my husband knowing the full extent of what was going on, and our parents to a lesser extent. A lot of my pain and hurt I hid from public view (this is part of who I am) and internalised. On top of that, being part of this mysterious 10% that got a condition that not many people understand, and not being able to find good, reliable and easy to understand information about – things were stressful. And it felt like I was alone. Very alone. 16,000 kilometres away from my family and friends, and very little emotional support. Continue reading The one about finding people who get where you’ve been …
Don’t expect a lot of positivity in this post. It’s hard keeping your shit together at times, and sometimes even the most zen want to just say ‘Fuck it.’ Continue reading The one about the shit train I’ve been riding…
That’s right folks – I feel like it’s time to reveal my top secret, tried and true recipe for Poo Cookies. You may think that these are just some ordinary oatmeal and fruit cookies – but you’d be wrong. They’re high in fibre, they’re tasty, and they’re toddler approved. They also *might* help those little cherubs out there who have a problem with constipation. I’m not going to claim that they will magically make your child constipation free – but they are yummy and they do have a super high fibre content. Continue reading The one about the poo cookies…
Anyone who knows me knows my love of coffee. My best friend Michelle jokes that I know only 2 words in the morning – “Cof fee”
Today is one of those rare days where not even coffee is motivating me. 3 cups later and I’m still feeling lethargic and tired and not even ready to face the next hour, let alone grocery shopping and taking the monsters to kindy for another attempt at that drama.
So, whilst going to bed last night with a dream of writing the latest installment in the poo saga, as well as an update of all the things going on here … I won’t. I’m going to make cup number 4, and I’m going to try to wake up.
So lately I kind of stopped myself from posting a couple of funny kid related anecdotes purely based on the fact that they could be considered being a “#humblebrag”.
Let’s face it. A #humblebrag is not humble. It’s fucking bragging. You’re telling the world that you got your kids to eat kale chips and quinoa without tantrums, death threats and breakages. You’re telling the world how superior you are, because your kids ate fancy cabbage and grass seeds. Bonus points if your kid pronounces quinoa correctly. (insert eyeroll here). Continue reading The one about being behind the #humblebrag
It’s been a while since a post that wasn’t about the recent sadness in our lives, and thank you to all those of you who commented, read and sent messages about the loss of our beloved father, father in law and Opa. You’re all amazing and it’s a blessing to know how much you all care. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.
I’ve deviated back into my beloved genre of ‘taking the piss out of people who ask stupid questions’ in this post. Today I’ll be addressing the most common form of TTTS – no, not the heartbreaking Twin To Twin Transfusion Syndrome that my girls survived and that has fuelled my passion to make others aware of this – but the other form.
Translating Twintalk To Singletonese.
Dear parents of singles. I’m about to let you into a secret part of the world of parenting twins. The Freemasons have the handshake, gangs have tattoos and colours, and what do parents of twins have? The answer is simple. We have “The Look”. Continue reading The one about the look…
Let’s get one thing straight here. I do not profess to be the world’s greatest parent. I do things that others disagree with, but to be honest, having the World’s Most Feral Twins (TM), I do what keeps me sane.
I survive on wine and coffee, I feed my kids things like chicken nuggets and pizza, I try to feed them stuff like broccoli (aka the Devil’s Vegetable), my kids have toys that expand their minds (as well as ones that are just, well, f*cking sparkly noise machines) … but in all honesty, every parent knows it’s about survival. We do what we do in order to help our kids grow and develop.
I get that there are many, many ways of parenting. Everyone has their own style, follows their own methods and I completely respect that. After all, we’re all individuals, with different upbringings, different cultures, and different motivations. We all have one thing in common though – we want to do what’s best for our kids. Continue reading The one about the conflict on our doorsteps – parenting decisions