Tag Archive | Mum of Multiples
So since my last piece of shit post (ok it wasn’t shit…but I reckon I’m losing my touch quickly minus booze & drugs to assist my creative juices)…. I’ve been stuck in boring shmoring pregnancy limbo. You girls who have been pregnant and were previously considered “party girls”….you know what I’m talking about?! No booze – tick. No drugs – tick, wimper, tick. No fun – tick. Arguing non-stop with anything that moves (usually The Captain) – triple tick.
I’M PISSED OFF AND BORED!!! What the hell am I supposed to do?! I’ll tell you what. As of today, I started “nesting” (it was either that or fucking crying into a pillow for hours…or until one of the kids found me). I basically re-organised the apartment (ok, one third of it), delegating our Helper to do various chores in the process and even now, considering I LOVE being tidy (yes, its my only geeky thing I promise), I’m still fucking bored out of my mind. I even took photos of all the Captains shoes, printed copies off and stuck them onto the cardboard boxes. Yes, I DID. To be fair, this is also to stop him bitching constantly about not being able to find any of his shoes and then deciding the ONLY way he will locate the pair he desperately needs that day, would be to open every single friggin box until he found it. Does he clean up after he’s made this mess, despite stating to me matter-of-factly “Dont look at me like that, I’ll clean it up!”? Nope.
I’m lucky if the Captain manages to find the kitchen to return a plate. FYI, before The Captain and I joined the joyful institution (funny they call it that eh?) of marriage, I “trained” him (yes, like a dog) to put the toilet seat down (label on lid – “Now shut”), close the cap on the toothpaste that was forever dried out (“Now put lid on”), not burn the apartment down by turning the gas off etc.
So what happens to me the other night while half asleep and off to the loo for my millionth visit because this 3rd child of mine is making me piss non stop? I almost, no joke, fell into the fucking loo. Don’t you just hate sitting on a wet/cold toilet when the seat is missing? Especially in the dark. I, of course, woke him at 3am and told him he was a “selfish wanker” for leaving the seat up. Bless him, he thinks it’s my “hormones” that are making me this angry. I hate messiness. Fact. The Captain LOVES mess. He has had moments where piles upon piles of clothes have built up in the middle of our bedroom and for some reason, assumed, I was the one who was going to tidy this pile of crap up. You would literally have to climb over it to get out of the room. I never did tidy it of course, as, and I have pointed this out to him on numerous occasions, I’m not his Mother. He, being the messy git that he is, got the cleaner to do it instead. Yes, I still love him but I hate mess which makes me want to hurt him on occasion when I see it. If I have just tidied up a room, The Captain, without fail, will walk in and start putting crap down everywhere ie. socks on the floor, underwear in my bathroom sink (we have double sinks so why it’s in mine I dunno), putting his electric toothbrush on the black bathroom counter despite the BIG plastic cup I placed there especially to stop him marking it constantly, packets of chewing gum (not chewed) everywhere and change from a million countries strewn across all countertops so the kids can choke on them.
Anyhow, this week The Captain has left Hong Kong (no mess) for a work trip to New York (FUCKING LOVE NYC) and I’m stuck here with my little monkeys (Itchy & Scratchy) and now, Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum (AKA our Helper & her niece who is here to do a “trial test-run” over the next week). We want to see if she’s any good for the job as we need an extra pair of hands to help out once Baby number 3 makes their appearance. As it turns out, she’s worse that our Helper ie. can’t cook, doesn’t speak English and thinks I’m invisible when I’m talking to her. She’s good with the kids though.
Anyhow, the reason we need this 2nd Helper (aside from the fact i could never afford one back in the UK), is that as all you Mums of Multiples will know, to do anything with Twins under the age of 2 years old, you are usually legally required to have “one adult per child” for all activities.
So the new Toddler/Nursery group I go to (after leaving the shitty, snobby, cliquey, arsholey, “what are we going to do today kids?” one in Repulse Bay) also still requires me and our Helper to go along to everything. Not that I would ever send her on her own in any event as the woman is not fast at anything. The amount of times we have had accidents because she’s forgotten there are TWO children of the exact same age running around, is numerous. I on the other hand, being their mother, am fully aware of where each child is at any given moment. I also rule with an iron fist (kinda like Margaret Thatcher but with better hair) which means I kick their arses (not literally obv) into shape and they don’t misbehave. My son however, when he spots a woman with a weakness for him, will play on it and before you know it, has them carrying him around (& my guess, breastfeeding him), despite him being only 18 months old.
In the past, my Helper has looked at me in shock when I’ve told her time and again “DONT PICK THEM UP! Stop carrying them around! Stop babying them! Let them eat glue, they’ll learn eventually”. Basically, she thinks I’m a mean Mum. I’m not, but I am strict. So, the other day, when the Captain and I took our kids to some massive indoor play area that would be hell if you were hung over but is actually great for toddlers and kids up to approx 5 years old. A boy of approx the same age as my 18 month old, pushed him and kept taking his toys. After about 40 seconds of this little bully pushing and shoving and taking every single toy car my quiet little boy wanted to play with, The Captain heard me state very loudly (I’m apprehensive to use the word shout) “NO PUSHING!! STOP IT NOW!!” (little shit) at someone elses kid. He’s lucky he didn’t see the back of my hand that little arsehole. Anyhow…out of nowhere stomps his mum who towered over me and had AT LEAST 400lbs on her. I actually thought for a minute that she was either (a) going to kick my arse (b) eat me. She was in fact, a total sweetie and swiftly took her son to another play area (probably to get him away from me).
So….how do you Mums deal with this sort of shit as I can see myself losing it if someone is blatantly bullying my kids? I’ll be one of those crazy mums storming across the playground and having a go at some 4-year-old for being “mean”. Any advice on how to deal with this would be appreciated otherwise I’m sure I will be pulled into many a HeadMasters office pretty soon to curb my big gob.
That’s it for me at the moment. As you can see, my last 2 posts (apparently the last one didn’t go out to all my subscribers so maybe have another look when you get this one), have been waffle.
Why waffle? BECAUSE IVE GOT FUCKING BABY BRAIN AND THIS IS ALL I CAN WRITE ABOUT!!! Where’s a cold glass of white wine/Rose/bottle of Vodka when you need it. I mean, if there’s ever a time you need booze, it’s when you’re pregnant. At least I’d be happily ignorant of my body changing and all the hormones as I’d be blind friggin drunk. Shame I can’t stomach the smell of booze, eh?
Last week I met a group of gals to discuss the pro’s and cons of Tummy tucks (as well as other surgery from boob jobs to Botox), for Mum’s of Multiples (or in my case…. TWINS!)
One Mum has just had a full tummy tuck with a scar that stretches from one side of her tummy to the other, and resembles, in my opinion, a smile (ironic too considering that’s what I’d be doing after such a fab piece of plastic surgery).
After nearly 6 weeks, she is fully recovered and unbelievably happy. And so she should be, considering her tummy was stretched beyond belief during her pregnancy. Both her Twins weighed well over 7.5 pounds!!! I mean…. fuck!!! She could barely walk into the hospital when she gave birth. She also had a 7 centimetre gap between her stomach muscles from where her body had been stretched so much. When I spoke to her, she’d just bought her first bikini in 5 years and was bouncing off the walls with happiness (hell, I’m surprised she didn’t turn up wearing a bikini… I would have with those results).
Now, my twins were almost full-term at 38 weeks, which is apparently pretty impressive in the world of Multiple births as the norm can be anything from 32 weeks onwards. Given my small size at the time, all and sundry expected me to go into very early labor. This did not happen and I got progressively larger by the minute. I was even putting on weight while I slept and at one point, I was convinced I must be sleep-walking into the fridge every night. I mean, by the time I gave birth by elective C-section (like I was gonna even attempt that “naturally”…. what am I fucking stupid?!!) I was MASSIVE. I had gained FIVE STONE in weight. FIVE STONE PEOPLE!??!
It’s no wonder the Captain didn’t want to have sex anymore … although I did try it on all the time like a teenage boy would. And I do mean, A LOT (no one tells you how horny pregnancy makes you, especially if you are carrying a boy, but apparently its their hormone in your body). Which actually explains why they all walk around looking for sex the whole time… hmmmm…. I mean… in hindsight, I was like one giant penis trying to get laid at every opportunity. It’s no wonder men wank constantly…
Anyhow, back to being a huge obese pregnant woman, I was soo big, I had to have TWO epidural due to the amount of fluid in my body. I couldn’t lie flat in bed either as I would faint from the pressure the kids put on my internal organs (even during hospital scans, I had to be almost upright towards the end, or I would faint). I mean, twins, or more…. its hardcore from day one. Even before they pop out, they’re giving you an insight into your new life. One would be awake all night inside my tummy while the other slept during the day.
I would wear those headphones you can get while pregnant, at night to listen to them sometimes and I swear my son was building something with all the banging inside my tummy. My daughter would start partying a little later…. hopefully something she wont continue to do as a teenager. She already looks like me but, acting like me will be a nightmare… I was expelled from one school in London alone for “not working enough & having parties at my house”. This was news to my Mum at the time when she met the Headmistress of my school “to discuss my options” …. I had to pretend the Head had dementia and had been gunning for me from day one (a complete lie of course but I couldn’t let my parents know that’s where all their booze was going from the “Drinks Cabinet”in their lounge, which BTW, had a lock on it!)
Anyhow, if I thought for one second I was going to attempt natural birth during my pregnancy …. I don’t think I would have been walking around as happy as I was (the Captain loved me preggars BTW as I was sober the whole time & couldn’t stand the smell of wine….) And despite looking like a small elephant (who had eaten two children), I thoroughly enjoyed the whole pregnancy thing.
That said, Itchy & Scratchy not only did a great job on stretching what used to be a washboard stomach you could literally bounce coins off (The Captain LOVED my tummy). They also screwed up my hips (I was a very small size 6/8 UK), I had carpal tunnel in both hands/wrists (constant sensation of tingling which was horrible when trying to drive/cook), and the fucking headaches/migraines were a killer, especially when you can’t take anything more than a pointless paracetamol tablet (useless on someone like me in any event as I need the hard stuff).
NOW….aside from all that, its my stomach which is pissing me off. I’m being kind to myself when I say it looks like an 80-year-old womans which I literally have to tuck into my knickers (or my new NBF’s, Spanx). The skin has been stretched sooo much that despite losing all my baby weight in under 4 months (I’ll be honest, I was strict with myself and determined to shift 5 stone as quickly as possible as the weight was killing my knees & I was fed up wearing The Captains jeans… fucking depressing), this didn’t really do my skin any favours. Slower weight loss equals better skin elasticity, apparently.
Also, despite hours in the gym (yaaaawn….unless there’s some sexy instructor to stare at) and now my obsession with Allegro Pilates in Stanley (I fucking love it and swear I gain weight the minute I stop), still this “envelope” of skin is sat there. Staring at me…. Day after day…. after day. Reminding me, never to show this bloody tummy off until, I too get a tummy tuck. I also forget its there from time to time, as I was so used to having such a lovely stomach that now if I raise my arms up in the super market and my T-shirt lifts… I automatically pull my top down as the skin above my C-section scar is loose. It looks horrible and I don’t want people seeing it. Am I being vain??! Yes of course, fucking of course!! I’m a bloody woman!!? I mean, who doesn’t want a nice body?
Now, I’m still going to give myself a bit longer as the twins have only just turned 14 months and I’m determined to at least try to tighten this skin. I’ve googled it all on the net and apparently, skin brushing and moisturising will help. However, my local Doctor, who I used to consider lovely (she’s had five kids though, the crazy cow) told me, it wont ever go but its the price we pay to be “blessed” with kids.
“BLESSED”?! How is it that these celebs are losing weight super quick and no loose skin?? Yes, I know, pretty much all have a surgeon to do a few nip/tucks, but where’s the scars etc? I’ve been watching that Kourtney Kardashian on E Hollywood and after just 3 months, she had lost the baby weight AND has a flat stomach. She’s also wearing a bikini (bitch) which I used to love poncing around in when my tummy didn’t jiggle like flippin jelly in a wrinkly old leather handbag.