Seeing the world

J'ai honte d'admettre qu'il m'a fallu presque 4 semaines avant de sortir avec les bébés. Les toutes premières semaines, ils tétaient toutes les 3 heures, non négociable puisqu'il fallait absolument qu'ils prennent du poids (la police, pardon, la pédiatre nous avait à l'oeil) . Et comme ils tétaient rarement en même temps, une fois que j'avais fini la tétée, le renvoi et changer leur couche, il nous restait en gros une demie heure avant la prochaine tétée!
Mais un samedi alors que j'étais sur le point de péter les plombs (j'étais en train de menacer le Petit Chimiste d'annuler Noël), il a décidé que enough was enough et qu'il était temps de prendre notre courage à deux mains. On a jeté les garçons dans leur poussette sous une pile monstrueuse de couvertures et on est partis pour une balade de deux heures - on a raté une tétée mais ne dites rien à la police ...
Depuis, nous sommes instoppables. Je sors les garçons presque tous les jours - à moins qu'il pleuve des trombes d'eau ou que les trottoirs soient complètement verglassés (mon quartier n'est pas prioritaire pour le salage des trottoirs les jours de grand froid). Je pense que d'ici pas longtemps, ils auront vu tous les parcs de Glasgow. Enfin "vu" est un bien grand mot puisque la plupart du temps, ils dorment à poings fermés! On prend des photos partout où on va et quand je les regarde, ça me fait penser au père d'Amélie qui recevait des photos de son nain de jardin des quatre coinds du monde ! Nous c'est plutôt, 'la poussette à Pollok Park", "la poussette aux Botanic Gardens", "la poussette à Mugdock Country Park" ...
Mais la plus grande aventure sera quand on ira en France - une véritable opération militaire en perspective!

Vous voyez ce que je veux dire ?
" La poussette à Pollok Park" !

I am ashamed to admit that it took me 4 weeks to build up the courage to go out with the babies. In the early weeks, they had to be fed every 3 hours on the dot to make sure they would put on enough weight, and most of the time not feeding at the same time, so by the time they were both fed, burped, changed and ready to go, there was only half an hour left before the next feed! But one Saturday, as I was just about to lose my sanity (I was talking about cancelling Christmas!), the Wee Chemist decided that enough was enough and we had to bite the bullet. We bundled the boys in their buggy under a ridiculous number of blankets and went off on a 2 hours expedition ! Since then, there's been no stopping us ! I am out practically everyday with them - weather permitting of course and it IS the coldest winter in twenty years - and we have been taking them to so many places already that I fear we'll be running out of Glasgow parks they haven't seen very soon. Mind you, when I say 'seen' they don't actually see much since they are asleep most of the time. As very proud parents, we are taking pictures of all the places we go with them and we now have a silly number of pictures of the boys in their buggy. Well actually, of the buggy because most of the time, you can't see them under all the blankets. It does remind me of Amelie when her dad receives photos of his garden gnome in all those exotic places, it's a bit like that with the boys : 'the buggy in Pollok Park', 'the buggy at the Botanic Gardens',' the buggy at Mugdock Country Park' ....But the biggest adventure is yet to come when we finally go and visit friends and relatives in France. Now, that will have to be planned like a full scale military operation !

Awake for once

Who is who ? Take a bet !!!

Hello stranger

Something amazing happened this morning ! No, not my second post in two days although that also is amazing but the boys had their first "chat" !!!

For the past few weeks, we have been trying to get the boys to communicate with each other. After all, they smile at us and Liam loves 'talking' to us in his little baby language so we thought they should be able to do the same with a smaller human being ... But it wasn't quite working. Despite our best efforts of sitting them opposite each other on our laps or in the bath, they refused to look at each other at the same time so until today, all their attempts at communicating was always one way traffic.

But this morning, something must have clicked into place and they spent a good 10 minutes smiling and babbling to each other! They started with shy little smiles, as if saying '"do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar ..." but they quickly got into the swing of things. Liam was so happy and excited that he 'talked' non stop for the whole time while Noah was giving him his best beaming smiles, it was so cute ...

I've got the feeling I won't be their number one favourite person for much longer ...

The inevitable heavily pregnant lady rant

I am not having a very good day today. I am fed up of waiting. I blame all the scaremongers with their horror stories about twin premature births. I built myself up for an early arrival and for being a mum before mid November because of them ... Now mid November has come and gone, I am still not a mum but a huge, terribly grumpy pregnant lady in a very clean and tidy flat.

I wish people stopped ringing. I know it's because they care and I have probably done the same to pregnant friends in the past (I won't anymore!) but do they seriously think I would forget to tell them? Honestly, the day these babies finally come out, I will want to tell the world ! Even the Wee Chemist's mum is calling every night, despite our repeated reassurances that she will be the first to know - of course it's a lie, MY mum will be the first to know! But anything to make her stop ...

Everybody is telling me to 'make the most of it'. Yes I can sleep and read as much as I want without being disturbed by a screaming baby (or two). But there's only so much reading you can do and so much sleep you can get - and it can't be bottled as far as I know. I'd like to go shopping or on long walks, but instead, I feel I am in limbo, not being able to venture very far from the house in case of 'something happening' - I am very slow and not very mobile anyway so I guess it's not a huge loss. But I'd like to have the choice. I hate daytime TV so that's not an option and watching DVDs requires a lot of concentration as I need to get up every 15 min for a toilet break and I end up losing the plot.

I have tried everything known to induce labour: raspberry leaf tea - only increases the frequency of toilet breaks - spicy food and pineapple - triggers terrible indigestion and heartburn - weeding and cleaning the skirting boards, on my hand and knees - at least the garden is tidy and the skirting boards immaculate. Nothing works. The Wee Chemist suggested one more thing ... to end this how it all began ... but I think I've got a headache !

Unhealthy obsession?

So. It would appear I have been on maternity leave for over a week.
My resolutions of spending more time on my blog haven’t quite materialised and I am yet to start watching daytime TV. Between various medical appointments, last minute shopping, coffee dates and frantic cleaning, last week has just flown by. It might be the nesting instinct or simply allowing the Monica in me to run wild, but the flat is sparkling clean – even the sheets and pillowcases have been ironed which I never, ever do and will probably never have time to do again. The babies’ room is ready, our hospital bag packed and the waiting game has now started in earnest. Time to put my feet up and indulge in the last moments of peace and quiet I will have in a long time. And as I was preparing myself for a relaxing morning on the sofa with a pile of books and a cup of steaming hot chocolate, it occurred to me how maternity obsessed I have become. Just take a look at my bedside table - 6 months ago and now ...

Let's hope I don't become one of those annoying mums that just can't shut up about their offspring!

Not quite Oprah

It is amazing how much attention you get when you’re pregnant. People hold doors for you or offer their seats in the bus and that’s nice. People also stare a lot and that’s not quite as nice especially when you feel like a big whale and have been forced to give up on wearing anything fashionable for the past few months or when they focus on your chest rather than your bump - yes perverts also target pregnant women. And very often, complete strangers feel the compulsive need to talk to you. Now that I look unmistakably pregnant, this is a conversation I find myself having pretty much everyday with random people, in shops, at bus stops, everywhere!

- Stranger: So ... when are you due? (favourite opening line, works better than "are you pregnant or just really fat?")

- Pepette: (in auto pilot) December.

- Stranger: Oh a Christmas baby, how lovely … (yes, people tend to forget there are 30 other days in December)

- Pepette: Well actually, I’m having twins so it’ll probably be late November.

- Stranger: Oh twins, what a great surprise! (surprise, yes, that’s one word for it, try “the news that’s going to turn your world upside down forever and make you weep in an uncontrollable panic”). Do they run in the family? (what they really want to ask is : did you conceive naturally or did you have fertility treatment? Fortunately, most people are a bit too polite for asking such a personal question at a bus shelter but a lady at my antenatal class asked me the question – must have been the hospital surroundings or the pregnancy hormones ...)

- Pepette: No they do not run in the family, neither on my side or my partner’s but I guess it has to start somewhere … (I normally leave it there and don’t tell people that they might be identical twins, which is just a joke from Mother Nature and has nothing to do with genetics. Unless I really want to get rid of the person, in which case I start using words like monozygotic, dichorionic and diamniotic. It normally does the trick and ends the conversation here and then.)

- Stranger: Well, you must be pretty pleased. And do you know what you’re having/what are you hoping for?

- Pepette: (At this point, I’m generally tempted to say we’re expecting a couple of giraffes – they start walking and feeding themselves within 24 hours of birth, how great is that ? – but I guess people might not get the joke and just think I’m being rude. And they would probably be right.) No, we don’t know yet, we’ve decided to keep it a surprise…

- Stranger: Oh, a surprise, that’s the best way! (Which is a lie. Studies have shown that more than 75% of couples expecting a child want to know the sex of their child before it’s born.)

At this point, most people have satisfied their curiosity and just leave me get on with whatever it is I’m trying to do at the time. Some people though don’t seem to know when to stop and proceed to tell me ‘horror stories’ about twins being born at 28 weeks or to remind me how lucky I am because their daughter/sister has been trying for a baby for years. I once had to get in the wrong bus just to get rid of a lady who had started telling me about her own childbirth experience in rather graphic details.

I guess I’d better get used to all the attention, I have been warned by twin mums that it’s only going to get worse when I start walking around with my double pram…

Public property

I guess it was only a matter of time before it happened.

Yesterday as I was drying the dishes after lunch in our work kitchen, one of my colleagues lunged in and went for a feel of my baby bump. With my two hands full I had no way of stopping her and I was so shocked anyway that I didn’t have time to think of anything to do or say.

I had been warned that once you’re pregnant your body becomes public property. It goes with the inappropriate questions and unwanted advice.

But I still can’t believe that people think it is acceptable to poke and prod expecting mums as if they are a lump of meat – what would they do or say if I went for a stroke of their jelly belly ?
If this becomes a regular occurrence I might have to get one of these, or even more explicit one of those!

Life changes - Part 2

I had drafted a post to tell you about our good news but as if our lifes had not been eventful enough recently, fate threw us another surprise today.

This is how the post started:

On the 1st of April, I was offered my boss’s job, as his dad had finally retired and he was going to become our new managing director, leaving his current position vacant. This had been on the cards for quite a while and I was obviously delighted that it was finally confirmed. But I was also a bit worried and feeling rather deceitful accepting their offer, for that very same morning I had found out I was pregnant…

I was still trying to decide if that stick I had been peeing on, half awake and bleary-eyed, was playing an April’s Fool on me! I waited a couple of days and took two other tests; the results were all the same – undoubtedly, absolutely positive. Then, as a lot of first time parents-to-be will know, a wave of mixed feelings took over, surprise (we’d only been trying for a couple of months and were told it could take up to a year!), complete delight and excitement of course, but also sheer panic, fear, and worry…

We started counting the weeks that separated us from our first and only scan, each week the likelihood of suffering a miscarriage reducing, each week closer to finally believing this was happening. It is hard to take it in until you have ‘proof’; no blood tests here, if the stick says yes, the stick is right!

Today we finally had the scan. And this is what it looked like:

I agree, it looks more like a hurricane forecast than anything else and it is really hard to make anything out - but what is certain is that there are two of them !

Nothing prepares you for the shock of finding out you are expecting twins. As I'm writing these words, nine hours after the biggest shock of my life, my hands are still shaking and I am struggling to find the words to describe what I am feeling.
I guess it will take us several weeks to fully come to term with the news. But we are overwhelmingly happy!

So now you know, what kept me away from my laptop those past few weeks… We are now a single income family with two babies on the way. Bring it on!

Life changes - Part 1

As I was telling you a few days ago, our life has been a rollercoaster of emotions those past few weeks. I won’t go into all the details with the exception of two major events that will change the shape of things to come… So let’s start with the bad news.

At the beginning of the month, le Petit Chimiste became le Petit Chômeur – the Wee Jobseeker – after all the chemists in his company were made redundant. To all the people who praise the British employment system and its wonderful ‘flexibility’, I will only say that I don’t think that a system in which you can be told you might be made redundant one week and escorted out of the premises the very next week like a thief without even a thank you or a handshake is that wonderful. And don’t get me started on the cheap redundancy pay check or the Jobseeker’s (non) Allowance. Let’s just say, le Petit Chômeur will not be joining the queue at the nearest Job Centre à la Full Monty! Oh dear old Maggie must be so proud …

So for the time being, I have a househusband. And it is fantastic: he cooks and does the dishes, he cleans the flat and drives me to work... I could really get used to that! And so could he, he’s loving all this free time and is turning into one of those retired people who are always ever so busy! So if it wasn’t for the small matter of us needing the second income, we would happily make this a permanent arrangement.

So the search is on for a new job. And inevitably this prompted some pretty major questioning and a bit of soul searching. Is it finally time to move to France? Are we ready to sell up, uproot ourselves once again and leave Scotland? Am I prepared to turn my back on a job I really enjoy, where I am valued and where I can grow and learn so much? The answers were a resounding and unanimous triple no. As much as I love my home country, I am happy here and our love story with Scotland is far from over. Of course, there is a lot we would be happy to leave behind: the depressing winter weather and constant darkness, some of the pretty unhealthy eating and drinking habits, and more recently, the employment laws… But we still have so much to see, so much to learn about this wonderful country that never ceases to surprise and delight us. We feel like we’ve only just scratched the surface. And we finally start to feel settled, to feel as if we belong: we’ve made some good friends here, we’re getting involved in our local community. We don’t want to have to do it all over again. Not yet anyway. So for the time being we are staying put. It will be hard for le Petit Chômeur to find a new job that he enjoys and that matches his qualifications and we might have to tighten our belts for a while.

But I‘m sure we won’t regret it.

PS: please, don't feel sorry for us - we are not. And he hated the job anyway!