Baby poo….every day, its the same old shit

So today was one of those days.  You know the kind where you wish you had stayed hidden under your duvet as it was all sooo fucking pointless!?  I woke up feeling horrendous as I’ve not been able to sleep again for the last few weeks.   The Twins keep waking in the middle of the night, and after much discussion with the Captain, it was agreed they must now sleep in separate rooms.  More for my own sanity rather than theirs.  As it turns out, neither child noticed the other was missing.  No surprise there then.  Also, their all important lunch-time naps (yes I still follow Gina Ford and probably will do until they’re 18 years old, or I’m carted off to The Priory) became a running joke (between Itchy & Scratchy).  I was constantly having to go into their room to see who was giggling, babbling, not sleeping, too hot, too cold, had crap themselves, just wouldn’t nap, only to be a cranky git later …. you get the gist.  And before you say, “You’ve got a nanny though”, yes I do and she needs constant supervision otherwise we’d all be screwed (she left the gas on in our kitchen for the 4th time in the last 2 weeks…I think shes trying to kill us all).

Anyhow, as the Twins have finally started to eat normal food, hence cutting my constant pureeing days of hell down to half (apple and mango puree anyone?), I was hoping life would begin to get, well, a little easier.

Instead, this is the shit i have had to deal with over the three weeks.  This will also explain my lack of blogging (hey, my brains not been able to function or even string enough words together to make a sentence).

So, starting three weeks ago, we discovered I may not be able to return back to my beloved London, UK, as those nob munchers on the airlines are very specific about Air Line regs and stated I couldnt travel with 2 pains in the arses (ie. the Twins) under the age of 2 years old…. unless I had another adult accompanying me.  Well, the Captain has to work, my Parents aren’t well enough and our Nanny hadn’t worked long enough to be allowed to do the flight with us.  It turns out, some cockbag (sorry, I mean, WANKER) in Immigration who was a real jobsworth (& English too), was no help when we attempted to get our Nanny a Visa to the UK.  So, we inadvertently applied for the wrong one, due to lack of any advice, and she was rejected.  Anyhow, after an appeal (and nearly 3 wasted weeks later… which includes a dramatic raise in airline prices), we are now able to go back to London for a few weeks to see my family & friends.  I can’t fucking wait.  I’ve actually started marking lines on the calendar like some prisoner in jail, awaiting their release date before they spring for freedom.

Since all that crap started, I have been suffering with THE WORST insomnia of my life. Nothing has helped me sleep (yep, not even prescription meds by the local Dr’s that “could knock out a horse”) and then, the kids, kicked in with their lack of sleep … or maybe they picked up on my stress levels?  Apparently I’ve been “shouting alot recently”, according to The Captain, but then if you have to keep an eye on two wandering, mobile, climbing 16 month olds, who think all furniture (including the walls), is something to climb, draw, bite into (seriously), or fall through…. you would be screaming “THATS DANGEROUS!!” too, every few minutes.  The kids don’t even give a shit.  They think I’m bloody having a laugh with them.  Cheeky sods.  My daughter actually put her hand near the oven door, BUT, didnt physically touch it yesterday.  She just stood there, with her hand hovering next to it, to demonstrate to me that (a) She wasn’t touching it, and (b) but she could if she felt like it.   I stood there eyeballing her thinking, “I’m screwed when she hits 15”.

Anyhow, for the last 2 weeks, aside from a horrific reaction to an insect bite (which involved a trip to the Adventist hospital for an injection) I have endured NO SLEEP at night.  I feel like I’m actually working the nightshift before I start my full day shifts too.  Ive now started drinking copious amounts of Red Bull (note to self, must stop tapping legs constantly), as Im not a coffee drinker and my beloved Earl Grey Tea doesnt really do the trick any more.  I mean, the kids are really really really trying to kill me through my lack of sleep!  They use sleep deprevation as a method of torture in war.  I can understand why … although after all my training, I think I’d actually be a pro at this (if I ever got called up to serve Queen & Country).

Anyhow, today, the kids, after enjoying their new found favourite cheese and macaroni lunch, managed to do the biggest, vilest, stinkiest poos I’ve ever experienced. I actually gagged and thought, I was going to be sick.  Now, it could have been the cheese, as this is a new food in their diets (well, not very new but they’ve never had it piled high up on their plates), or it could just be, they both have slightly dodgy tummies. Apparently theres lots of sickness amoung the little ones at the moment in Hong Kong.  Either way, it was more hardcore today than any other.  Especially as mid nappy change, my Daughter, who was giggling away, pulled her poo filled nappy out from under her and threw it into the air!   INTO THE AIR. FILLED WITH SHIT.  ME, THREE RED BULLS LATER, BLEARY EYED AT 6AM IN THE MORNING…..

So, after I burst into tears and cleaned the shit off both of us (we had a shower), I then set to cleaning out the nappy changing area, which constantly stinks of baby shit.  I mean, where is the smell coming from?!  I feel like I’m constantly looking for poo.  Yes, the nappy bin is cleaned/washed/changed daily but I swear theres a poo hiding somewhere in that bathroom.  I can’t bloody find it.  I now keep lighting candles during the day to take the smell away.  This has only made the bathroom now smell of shit and vanilla.  Lovely.

Anyhow…. Im ready to get home to the UK and have some normal London sleep, near my Parents (they’re no fucking help on the babysitting front but they do look after me) and I want to just escape this Hong Kong life for a few weeks.  To feel like me again, without all the nobby playgroups, constant outings with complete strangers, drinks, dinners, parties, holidays…. yes, I’m an ungrateful bitch.  So…. If I’m offline soon, it’ll only be for a short while so I can live it up back in London.  And by that, I mean, going to bed early and chilling.  Yeh right!

* Above photo taken diving in the Maldives

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About YYTM

A (40++) Punk “wannabe”. London born/bred, parent of 3 children under 18 (twins included). Divorced. A great cook. Shockingly argumentative after 8pm on a Monday evening...

5 responses to “Baby poo….every day, its the same old shit”

  1. children says :

    Hey, I hopped over to your web site from mixx. It’s not something I would normally read, but I like your spin on things. Thank you for making something worth reading

  2. fruitlessbloom says :

    We will be back in Bali in August. If you’re anywhere near, you and me…. we need to meet, chat and drink. Let me know next time you’re heading there. I feel elated when I hear from ANYONE feeling as shit as i do at the moment. BUT, the worst bit, is this constant guilt that I’m still not doing enough for the kids. God is def a man as only a woman could deal with this lifetime of love/pain/pleasure at once. I’m not regretting a moment of IVF… I just feel bad when I can’t be arsed to do the parent stuff some days. Is that too honest? I feel tired and yet, what the hell am I doing that’s making me sooo exhausted?! really?! back in the 50’s, the women were doing this shit day in, day out (ok, while smoking and drinking). But really?! This is hardcore. Like those who ponce off the Government in the UK and dont work, Mum’s EVERYWHERE in the world, need to be paid. What we do is full-time. With or without help/Vodka.

    • Parental Parody says :

      Many apologies for the delayed reply. Have got my mother hooked on your blog, and couldn’t risk her seeing my response. I’m so covert I should be wearing camouflage, no? WOuld dearly love to down a few (dozen) cocktails with you in Bali, but I am off to Vietnam next week. Surprising the parents over there – hence the delayed reply here. What I will do, to make up for it, is do my best to drink my way around that country. It’s kinda close. It’s in the same region. This should be quite easy for me – as I am travelling WITHOUT the kids and Hubby. I know, I’m just about weeping from excitement.

      Moving on…have just survived school holidays here. Conclusion : I should never have been allowed to procreate to the extent of 3 kids. I’m not capable of looking after that many. My patience and attention span only just stretches to 1. Unless they’re sleeping – then I’m the best, most loving and attentive mother in the universe.

      So I dropped the twins at Daycare yesterday, trying to restrain myself from burning rubber out the carpark to enjoy my first solo-time in weeks. WEEKS. And in walked a woman with IDENTICAL TRIPLETS. And she was uber polished. Perfect hair. Perfect NAILS. Everything. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to ram her with my car, or put my car seats in her Mummy wagon, so she could take the twins with her when she left. Thought of you while silently being totally disgusted by her awesome display of triplet parenting.

  3. Parental Parody says :

    Oh god I’ve been waiting for another post from you!

    Twins are bastards like that. My son vomited directly into my mouth – entirely not my fault to be swinging him above my head while he had gastro.

    The girl…she is a tyrant. I’m scouting for convents that will take a 2 1/2 yr old. I am totally screwed by the time she is 11, by my counts.

    Just wait until they’re old enough to work out that they can team up against you. One shoots in one direction to dive off a counter top, and the other heads towards the front door they’ve just learnt how to open.

    Seriously….Absolut and Stolichnya should be offering me a cut of the profits for the amount of vodka I NEED to consume to keep up with these kids.

    On another note, according to the countdown timer I placed at the bottom of my blog, I have only 586 days, 23 hours, 47 minutes and 31 seconds until the twins start school. Only.

    PS – Get a new Nanny. The current one is shit. If you could convince The Captain to move a little further – say Bali – I can personally vouch for the fab Nannies there.

  4. Anonymous says :

    Brilliant post!

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