Twins at my age! Thoughts from an older Mum

It may seem harmless enough but it’s the axis of evil - an aberration in a sanitised developed world. When life becomes about grasping on to fragments of control as all seems to slip and slide under the sofa... a sock here, apple core there, piece of Lego behind your ear. WHO ON EARTH thought that a large bristled brush caked in fragments of poo and marinaded in old urine should sit in an alluring holder within easy reach of the loo? The sight of your child swirling it around all but using it to brush their teeth is a slip too far. I’m very good at removing poo from unwanted surfaces and always have an antibacterial spray to hand but the loo brush makes all these gestures seem pointless in an otherwise well plumbed world. Loo brush I hate you and the ridicule you cast!

I wonder if twins have a integral sense of plenty , after all they aren’t used to being alone - there are and were always two of them? Always someone at your side, life becomes a conversation. Or at least a choice to act alone but comfortable in the knowledge someone will observe and admire you. You can choose to share or not to share. The world must look very different through twin eyes... stereoscopic vision, not myopic. I hope they always feel this cushion beneath their feet my darling girls.

I’ve been feeling very friendless lately but also am tangling with what friendship involves. I feel I have so little to say or give at the moment. As we know friendship is a two way street. And from my side of the road who wants to be drawn into the detail of sleeplessness, the minutia of parenting worries or my major quandaries, like how the heck to get a job and life back? But mum summed it up so beautifully.. ‘You can’t be a friend when prone to being dreary and overly deep!’ Damn it...thanks mum, that’s me in a nutshell! I need to think again and quick in the Hope I can draw old friends back by finding a new cheery and light hearted me. Notes on future posts: How New words and definitions have helped e.g: Sociopath Attachment injuries Triggers Boundaries Transitions  Emotional regulation And other such light hearted topics It’s just a phase... And lastly The joy of citalopram if you can get through the severe sickness phase 

the last two days have contained a hatch of comments that have lodged like little barbs. Such as my dearest friend arriving for tea and me having prepared and tidied the house beautifully. She walks in “ah still living in kiddy chaos”. Then on describing the demoralising interview I did and not getting the job (see separate entry about the hell of getting back into work), she casually says “well you haven’t used your brain for ages love.” Argh!! Oh the privilege of having and being able to use your brain! Then yesterday a fabulous sunny day, I escape for lunch despite being oh so exhausted at the mo. The group of three women, two elderly and my friend Katy kindly say on seeing me “I like your hair cut”. I got it chopped into a bob by local hairdresser as it had got long and haystack like. But Carol pauses.. “humm, I am not sure. It looks moth eaten!” I actually found this particular barb quite refreshing and funny. But it somehow made the other two lodge deeper. We learn that we shou...

last night bedtime became a riot of laughter. Rossy discovered she could post her dummy down her sleeping sac and then hunt for it. This made her rock with laughter and Willow screamed with delight on observing this trick and then decided to do the same. At one point as Willow was lifting the roof with her shrieks Rossy lent over and looked at her very closely and with such deep love. Despite the fact that this was about phase three of a what became a super prolonged bedtime, I just revelled in their shared humour and love. Twins can be the most extraordinary magical thing to behold.

Says L, 7 years, after supper. Oh dear, so eloquent and probably true! Pasta pillows again. I’m going through a very unimaginative low energy cooking phase. But this morning it seems Rossy aged 19 months took matters into her own hands. Pre school, they had all had breakfast, big wheatabix/toast/fruit breakfast, and were playing happily in the sitting room so I grabbed the chance to do a few jobs upstairs. I was away for nearly 10 minutes. On return R was in the kitchen having somehow got the bread from the table and neatly unpacked the whole loaf. She had found two snack boxes one red one yellow and was placing slices in each, while holding two half chewed slices for herself. Perhaps preparing stores for later?  It was a wonderful scene which was only enhanced by finding the other two watching tv with a slice each .... that Rossy had given them. You see she appears on be on an anti meagre (anti austerity) drive all of her own, to compensate for her mother’s short comings. L look...