Trouble Doubled

World Book Day. Love it or loathe it?

2012-02-29T14:39:00.000Z

On Tuesday, I paid a visit to somewhere secret and really important. Top secret. Anyway, when I got to the reception, I could hear the end of the conversation between the two ladies behind the desk.

Lady 1 - "So, what is she going as then?"

Lady 2 - "God only knows! Apparently, she is too big for being a princess now. So,
that's my evening pretty much screwed."

Anyone listening to this conversation who does not have children would have absolutely no idea what they were blathering on about. I, however, not only knew exactly what it was about, but I also felt their pain. Of course, they were referring to the annual festival that is World Book Day.

If you are a parent of school-aged children you will understand a little why World Book Day can be a polarising subject. If you've never heard of World Book Day, then you can read all about it here.

Now don't get me wrong - I'm not saying that having a whole day devoted to the promotion of the ubiquitous and wonderful item that is 'the book' should not go ahead. Indeed, I think anything that reinforces the importance of their contribution to our culture and learning is a good thing.

What I am referring to are the events that schools run to help engage our younger generation in the name of book-worshipping. If your school is like ours, then you will have already spent hours of your parental efforts stressing over what book character your child will be dressed as for the entire day. If Twitter is anything to go by, the book character parade seems to be the activity of choice for many schools. Cue the stress and general misery.

Children love dressing up and taking part in contests. They whole-heartedly embrace the whole participation thing, especially if it means they can wear a fairy or pirate outfit instead of their usual school uniform.

But take our school's 'contest' from last year as an example, and you'll see why I'm less than excited about this year's event. Last year, all the children were asked to dress up as a book character. That was it. Easy enough really. No stipulations. No conditions. Just the book thing.

Some children used costumes they already owned, like witches (The Worst Witch), or a magician (Harry Potter), or a rabbit (The White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland).

Some children had a home-made outfit, including the one who's mum (who is on her own and has health problems to contend with) made the most fecking brilliant dragon outfit because her daughter's favourite book at the moment is about a dragon. It was A-MA-ZING and put the rest of us to shame.

Some children came in any old shit they had in their dressing up box. Buzz Lightyear anyone? Ben 10? What the hell?!! Seriously. Now I'm not the best-read person in the world, but I'm sure as anything that these are film or TV characters.

I know kids love it, and if you're busy then it's better not to be snobbish about it and send your child in anything. You don't want them to be the only kid who turns up in normal uniform just because you can't spend hours hand-making a Gruffalo suit, but COME ON PEOPLE!

The worst thing was, at our school, the children voted for which outfit they liked the best. Buzz Lightyear won. As my seven-year old said - it was a brilliant outfit. It was, I agree. It was the best darn Buzz Lightyear outfit money could buy. But it isn't exactly a book character. Only the winner got a prize. Dragon girl was gutted. The dragon's mum was fuming, and I don't blame her.

This year, as well as the costume thingy, the children also have to bring in the book which their chosen character appears in. Some parents are already complaining that they might have to make some sort of effort this year, instead of just getting the trusty old Disney Princess dress out of the box. They could, of course, just pick up their Snow White or Cinderella book from the shelf, but I fear that some of them haven't actually read the book versions - just sat through the DVDs. At least having to bring the book in will reinforce the significance of the word 'book' in World Book Day.

But is it just me? I put it to Twitter and it seems that some other parents find having to sort out a costume a stressful experience, but one that is worth it for their child's happiness. Parents like the promotion of books to their children, but feel that a costume parade is not the only way that schools could do this. Whereas some parents love the whole creative thing and give it their full efforts, and others don't mind what children wear because ultimately, it's the fun that matters.

This year, the mother-in-law has helped us by making a dress for a Mrs Twit, and a yellow outfit for a very excited Little Miss Sunshine. They are going to look awesome. And they are from books that my children have actually read, and enjoy. They will enjoy being part of something fun with their friends, and love talking about their favourite character. I believe it's so important for children to engage with books, and to share their love of books with their little friends.

But if one of them doesn't win that damn prize, there will be hell to pay.

What about you? What does your school do for World Book Day?

The Multi-Coloured Blog Swap Carnival

2012-02-28T20:23:00.000Z

Welcome to my very first blog carnival - The Multi-Coloured Blog Swap Carnival.

The carnival is a fantastic, fabuloso swapping-fest of posts from all types of bloggers, old and new. There are a plethora of posts for you to read, and a whole host of blogs to visit. Some will be familiar, some not so familiar. Please go over and support those bloggers brave enough to stick their hand into the lucky box of blog posts and saw what came out in the name of fun and friendship.

The blogs linked up below all took part, so have an explore and see what you can find.

Thanks for visiting!

The Reformed Chocoholic Speaks.......

2012-02-28T20:18:00.000Z

This month saw the start of Lent and many millions of people give upthings, whether out of a jokey 'I'm giving up chocolate' spirit, or out ofgenuinely religious feelings about Lent. I have, in fact given up chocolatebut, rather arbitrarily chose the week BEFORE pancake day to do the deed.

This doesn't seem like a very big thing I'll admit, but when youconsider that I've probably eaten some amount of chocolate every day for years,then that makes it a really big thing for me. In the heady, over-chocolate-eatingdays I could have happily polished off a Boost, say, but then followed it upwith a Mars bar, a Dairy Milk and maybe more - now clearly there's somethingseriously wrong there!

Perhaps I'm doing the wrong thing. I've gone completely cold turkey andhave had no chocolate for a whole week now, but maybe that's only settingmyself up for a fall. Would it be better to keep a small amount of chocolate inmy diet, say a square or two as an evening treat? Should I set aside a day aweek on which I can eat some chocolate, or would this make me binge, as I sooften have done when faced with a bit of Cadbury's?

Who knows when I shall eat chocolate again? Notice I'm saying that asif I won't completely break like a cheap vase and pig out - I'm remaining positive!I'm thinking at the moment that I'd like to make it to a month and then seewhether to let a bit of chocolate back in or whether to carry on - to be honestmy reason for giving up is in the hope that I'll lose a bit of weight by doingso, so maybe if I achieve a good weight loss in my non-chocolate phase I'llcarry on.

I do really feel quite positive about the whole experience, mainlybecause I did successfully give up Diet Coke about six months ago and that wassomething I really, REALLY love, in fact when I was working I used to have aDiet Coke and a flapjack for my breakfast. I can almost feel you shaking yourhead at my poor food choices as I type! But, I have been off the stuff for 6months and I'm not sure I'd even fancy having one now - it's funny howsomething that was such a big part of your life just isn't that importantanymore.

I'd like to turn it over to you now, have you given anything up forLent? Have you ever gone cold turkey on a food you really love? Would you ever?

My name's Stacey and I'm a chocoholic. Thank you for listening ;0)

This post was provided by Stacey of It Takes a Woman as part of the Multi-Coloured Blog Swap carnival.

Retail therapy? Hardly.

2012-02-21T21:48:00.000Z

I'm going to say something out loud and I want you all to bear with me.

I don't understand the concept of retail therapy.

There I said it, so sue me.

I see the appeal in buying something new. It's nice to have something new, I agree. It's the whole idea that the act of shopping is somehow therapeutic. I just don't get it at all.

Maybe it's because I've never been what is commonly known as 'a girly girl'. I've always avoided fashionable high street shops like the plague. Not that I don't appreciate what is on offer. I just can't cope with the crappy lighting, trendy music and the whole changing room thing. Growing up I always felt a bit of a fraud in Topshop's changing rooms with all the other young ladies, and sheepishly shuffled off to Foot Locker as soon as I had acquired the required outfit for whatever event I needed something nice for. It was a rarity that I had something suitable in the overstuffed wardrobe for a nice party. I had plenty of other stuff - like tracksuits (sports addict) and baggy jumpers - but would always put off shopping for more formal clothes for as long as possible. This of course meant that I would find myself in Miss Selfridge at 4.30pm on a Saturday afternoon, fast approaching closing time, like a rabbit caught in headlights.

I would watch in envy as all the other girls (swarming around in packs), with seemingly little effort would browse for all the clothing on offer, chatting away confidently, while I stood there lost in a sea of LBDs and sequins. Mind you, I suppose it was vice versa in the sports shop, where they would look at me in disbelief while I stroked a row of badminton racquets and smiled longingly at the latest must-have hockey stick handle tape. And yes, I did.

Or maybe it was because of a bad shopping experience? I remember when I was about seven or eight when my mum took me shopping for new school shoes. At the time, brogues were the fashion - remember them? I hated them and would not be swayed by the argument that everyone else had some, but my mum was keen on anything that would make me look trendy. I remember her insisting I try them on despite my protestations. I walked up and down in them in front of my mum and the shop assistant, sobbing quietly to myself, while they discussed how trendy I looked. They were fine I'm sure, but they just weren't me. And I had to go through all this in public. Mentally scarred for life.

Don't get me wrong, I like what I like and I suppose I've always had my own sense of style. Rather than clutch bags and kitten heels, I've always been a nice satchel and chunky boots kind of girl. But to actively go out shopping for fun?

Google Product Search is my shopping saviour. No more will I have to trawl round BHS with a bewildered look on my face. Gone are the days when I had to walk the equivalent of up Mount Snowdon and back down again before I find anything that appeals to my tastes. I give thanks for the innovation of computers and the internet. I worship the gods of catalogues, and praise the fact that clothing supermarkets now exist - in, fill your basket, pay, and out again.

Whoever came up with the idea that the whole process of shopping as therapy should be taken to the Hull branch of Topshop circa 1992 and be publicly flogged with a range of different coloured sequinned boob-tubes. Or maybe it's just me?

Disclaimer: This is a sponsored post

How to make a sock monkey

2012-02-19T18:46:00.000Z

For those of you familiar with my blog, you know that the following blog post is one of the lesser-spotted variety - A CRAFT POST!!!!! Please treasure it.

For those who aren't familiar with my blog, then you need to know that if I do get involved in crafts, they are either or both of two things - a) super easy b) a little bit random. The sock monkey fits both of these descriptions beautifully.

To make a sock monkey, you will need:-

a pair of matching (or not) socks

stuffing

needle and thread

two buttons for eyes

a decent pair of fabric scissors

1 - take one sock, which will be the main body. The toes are the head, and the heel is the monkey's bottom. TURN IT INSIDE OUT. Flatten is out so that it is 'facing' you. Sew two leg shapes (each about 2-3cm wide) from the 'bum' to the sock opening, using the flat edge down the sides of the sock for the outside of the legs. Sew first before you cut - it is a lot easier. Leave an unsewn area around the monkey's groin. (oooooh). Then cut the legs out, so that there is some excess - i.e don't cut too close to the stitching!

2 - turn the sock the right way out again using the groin hole. Then stuff it, again using the hole. Once the monkey is nice and plump, sew his holey bit up, turning the edges of the sock inwards first to create a nice, neat edge.

3 - Take the second sock, turn it inside out, and lay it flat the other way - like in an 'L' shape. Sew two arms, a tail, and two ears in a similar method to the legs, and cut them out. Don't forget to leave a section on each part un-stitched so you can turn them the right way out.

4 - Stuff these pieces, and sew them to the body in the correct places. (The arms go in the arm positions, the ears go on top of the head, and the tail goes round the back!)

5 - sew the buttons on for eyes, and make a mouth by sewing into whatever you shape you want - you can make him happy, sad, angry or ambivalent. Get creative - add eyebrows for effect.

We love our new sock monkey. If you want to make one yourself and my instructions are not making any sense, you can buy ready-made sock monkey kits.

If you love this sort of random crafting lunacy, you're just going to love my shoebox aquarium, but if even this is way too complicated for you, try making some gift tags out of your old Christmas cards instead.

This is not a sponsored post. I just love the monkeys and the kits that I've linked to are really good and well recommended.

Tag - you're it

2012-02-17T21:17:00.000Z

It's that time again - Tag, you're it. The rules are as follows -

1) You must post the rules

2) Post 12 fun facts about yourself in the blog post

3) Answer the questions the tagger has set for you in their post and then create 12 new questions for the fellow bloggers you plan to tag

4) Tag 12 people and link to them on your blog

5) Let them know you tagged them

I've been tagged by aTwentySomethingMum and Here Come the Girls for this, so that means I have to answer two sets of questions. That'll teach me for not getting on with it when I first got tagged.

1) D-O-N-E

2) 12 fun facts about myself

I still have the very first pair of DMs I ever bought, and still wear them regularly (ish). They are knackered, but I love them.
I once died my hair black after bleaching it, and it looked.....erm, a bit funky. Actually, it went a bit green, but it was pretty cool looking.
I share my birthday with an uncle, and a neice.
I know all the words to the Phineas and Ferb theme tune, and I join in with the riff at the end with my superb air-guitar.
I saved all my badges I ever earned at Brownies and Guides. I showed them to my 7-year old, who looked at me like I was mad. I don't think she believed I was ever seven years old.
I have things in the Sky+ I recorded last summer. I am still catching up on Downton Abbey from Christmas.
erm.......twelve did you say? OK, I once went on a student exchange to a very rough town in Belgium and couldn't understood a damn word they said all week. Unless they spoke in English, which they did, so we got on just fine. I did learn the French for 'It's your turn' during Monopoly - the Brussels edition.
Because of said exchange trip, I have seen Le Mannequin Pis, and it's shit.
I rock at wallpapering.
When I went to uni as a mature student, I would bewitch the younger students with stories of actual telephone boxes that took 10 pence pieces, and tales of how our junior school only had one computer, and we wheeled it around on a trolley.
I often wish I had a time machine so I could go back to school. I would punch all the silly girls in the gob, and then come back to 2012, hopefully feeling a whole lot better with myself.
I am terrified of fairground rides, because I am actually a big girly-girl.

3) Answer my 12/24 questions from the other bloggers. Actually, that's a lot of questions and I am supposed to be anonymous, so I think I will answer 6 from each that I like the best.

from aTwentySomethingMum

Which one person has had the most influence on your life and why?

Probably the husband. We've been together a long time, and have taken all decisions jointly, so we kind of meet in the middle with most things. My life would probably be very different if I was with someone else, or on my own.

If you we're given £5000, how would you spend it?

I would like to say something extravagant, but I'd probably put it on the mortgage and carry on as normal. Sorry.

How would you describe parenthood, in one sentence?

A lifestyle choice where none of the choices are your own, and you find yourself saying the same thing over and over again, yet it is oddly compelling.

What TV programmes do you like to watch?

Quiz shows mainly - Countdown, University Challenge, Pointless. Also costume dramas like Downton Abbey.

Looking back if you could tell your pre-child self one thing, what would it be?

Get more sleep while you can.

When you were younger, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I had no idea at all. I still don't know now.

from Here Come the Girls

What would your superhero name and power be?

Calculus girl, and I would beat Rachel Riley every single damn time.

What qualities do you hope your children will inherit from you?

Cynicism

And what do you hope they don't inherit?

Smart-arse sarcastic attitude. (too late)

Who would play you in your life story? Why?

That bird who plays that chav out of Emmerdale. She's got the northern accent nailed.

Who would play your on screen partner?

Brad Pitt. One of us might as well be getting a piece, even if it's the screen version of me.

What music would be on the soundtrack?

Blur, Pulp, The Levellers, Linkin Park, and S Club 7

New questions for tagged peeps:-

1) Do you like being tagged in memes?

2) Ant or Dec?

3) Winx Club is an abhorrence to post-feminist thought and should be banned from our TV screens. Discuss.

4) What is the greatest TV theme tune in the history of TV?

5) If you had to pimp your kids out for cash, would they be child models, a cute all-singing all-dancing supergroup, or up chimneys?

6) Will there ever be a boy born that can swim faster than a shark?

7) If you could only ever eat one chocolate bar for the rest of your life, which would it be?

8) What would be your specialist subject on Mastermind?

9) Can you play a musical instrument?

10) If you were a character in a novel, who would you be?

11) Who let the dogs out? Who, who, who, who?

12) What is your favourite song?

......and I tag

You don't have to do it, just for a bit of fun if you want to take part. Don't forget to tweet me the links so I can come read.

How to keep your nanny

2012-02-17T14:55:00.000Z

Once you have recruited and hired a nanny, the trick is to keep them. Having a string of nannies look after your children is unsettling for them, and a waste of time for you as you have to spend more of your time re-advertising and re-recruiting.

To stand the biggest chance of holding on to your nanny, you must keep them happy in their work. This is not just about pay, but also a whole host of other things which employees take for granted.

As your nanny is your employee, and your house is their place of work, you should treat your nanny as you would wish to be treated yourself at your place of work by your employer.

I use the mantra 'Is it reasonable to....' when thinking how a nanny should be treated.

For example, is it reasonable to....expect that the nanny should be able to take toilet breaks when he/she needs to? Of course it is, and no-one would deny an employee something so essential as this, but there are lots of things that I have heard of from nannies which seem to me to breach the 'is it reasonable' benchmark.

Read on for things that I have heard of which would fall short of reason.....

Is it reasonable to expect that the nanny pay for things like playgroups, petrol and family groceries out of their own pocket? - Probably not. You should provide your nanny with petty cash for everyday expenses incurred in the course of their work and make sure that the nanny lets you know when they need a top-up.

Is it reasonable to expect the nanny to go off-clock halfway through the day because you have decided to put your child into a nursery for the odd morning? Possibly not. If the nursery hours fall within the nanny's designated hours, then you should pay the nanny as agreed and find alternative work like light housework. You should not expect that you can dock the nanny's wages because of a decision that you have taken.

Is it reasonable for the nanny to be paid on time? Of course it is, but you would be surprised at how many nannies have told me that their employer has been late paying their wages on more than one occasion.

Is it reasonable to expect the nanny to work later than their designated hours without warning? The beauty of hiring a nanny is that they tend to be more flexible than a nursery, and you can agree in advance that late working may sometimes be required, however.........to not give any warning of your lateness and just take your nanny for granted is unreasonable. If you are going to be late and need your nanny to work a bit extra, you should let them know as soon as possible.

Is it reasonable to interfere in how an employee does their job? To an extent, you should always leave a nanny to do their job how they see fit. Their relationship with your children will be different to yours, and they may have different methods of care and discipline. While you should of course step in if your nanny seems to be doing harm, you should leave the nanny to it as much as possible. If you find yourself interfering and telling your nanny how she should do her job, you should question your own motives for hiring one at all.

Is it reasonable that the nanny should get to choose when they take their own holiday weeks? Of course it is best if the nanny takes their holidays at your convenience, but you should also allow them the freedom of choice for around half of their holiday entitlement, and yes, nannies do get paid holiday - it's the law!

You will find that nannies enjoy being nannies because they have more autonomy to do their job, and they like working directly with the family of the child(ren). The better you can make the working experience for a nanny, the happier they will be and the longer they will hang round for, which is good for everybody, especially your children.

You can read more nanny related posts on my nannies and childcare page.

Competition: Win £50 to spend on some 'you' time.

2012-02-15T21:29:00.000Z

***THIS COMPETITION IS NOW CLOSED. THE WINNER HAS BEEN CONTACTED ***

I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a bit worse for wear at the moment. I don't know if it's the time of year or just parenting stresses of the last few years catching up with me, but I am feeling creaks and strains a lot more than I used to. Currently I have a stiff neck (but only on one side), a dicky ankle, and I have to go back to the dentist in a couple of weeks to have my first ever root canal surgery. Fab-a-roony. I wish I could tell you I was looking forward to it, but as far as I'm concerned, it's just one step closer to having a bionic body. Soon I will need a hip replacement, or full-on dentures.

It's my birthday in a couple of weeks and I will no longer be able to get away with saying I am in my early 30s. I am almost on the downward slope to my 40s, and will have to start to accept that my body is no longer 21 years old, even if my head thinks it is. Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me, yadda yadda yadda.......

To be honest, I'm not sure I can muster up the energy to even think about celebrating. What I could do with is some 'me' time, preferably at a nice spa. Or do something that isn't at all child-friendly, somewhere that's not attached to a soft play area.

To celebrate my impending birthday milestone of doom, I am giving away a £50 voucher pack for spending on something special for you or a friend. The voucher is from Experience Days and can be exchanged and put towards anything from a driving experience day, falconry, a day at the zoo, tea for two, or a much needed trip to the spa. The full range of experiences available can be seen on the website. There is plenty of stuff available for your £50, or you could use it as part-payment towards something extra-special.

To be in with a chance of winning, simply leave me a comment below with some contact details. Terms and conditions apply. The closing date is 3rd March, after which I will choose a winner at random.

For a bonus entry, you can tweet the following -

I want to #win a £50 experience day voucher with @trouble_doubled http://bit.ly/zwXj2j

and leave me a separate comment to say you have done so.

Each comment is counted as one entry, and it's two entries maximum per person.

Good luck!!

My mother drives me batty.

2012-02-11T23:14:00.000Z

I look at my Mother some days with affection. She did a pretty good job bringing up me and my younger brother and sister. We didn't have a lot of money as a young family, but we went on holiday every year, even if it was only to the local Haven site. We ate pretty well, had the best second-hand clothes money could buy, did alright at a rather shitty school, and grew into relatively well-balanced adults (well, apart from my brother but that's a different story for another day).

She puts up with my rather socially-awkward father, works hard all day to keep them both afloat, and has loads of friends all over the country who she meets up with regularly. At the age of 50, my Mother's favourite pastime is going to live music events and bopping away embarrassingly at the front. Good for her. In many ways, I hope to be like her when I get old and only a little bit wrinkly (she also has great skin, which I hope it will turn out I have inherited too). Some days, however, I look at my Mother, see my own future and run away screaming. Like today.

My mother does things at her own pace. She'll say she's coming to ours 'early' to 'help out' and to accompany us on our supermarket trip, only to phone at 10.30am to find out what we are doing and where we are supposed to be meeting her. So she turns up at ours at 11am with my bedraggled father in tow, ready to go straight off to the supermarket. Which is fine, except the twins are half an hour off needing lunch. Instead, I give them a pre-lunch now, clean them up, and then shoot off so we can get shopped and back in order to feed the older two and my Dad, and feed the ever-ravenous twins the rest of their portions.

So we set off to the local supermarket - me, me old Mam, and the twins. We arrive safely, which is great, and we even get a parent and child space - bonus!

She decides she will be the trolley pusher. I grit my teeth. As any twin mum will know, having a matching pair sat cutely in the trolley is a sure-fire attention magnet, and inevitably, the shopping takes way longer than it should. My usual tactic is to bomb on as quickly as possible, get everything I need, and get the hell out of there. My mother, it would seem, has no plan at all, except to make the chore of shopping a mini adventure for the twins. And herself.

I find myself having to collect the shopping up in my arms, and then going back to find her showing the twins the 'pretty flowers' near the front of the store, or reading them a book from the toy aisle. I went off to find cheese, and returned to find she was letting the babies play with the shopping. Thanks for that, smashed-to-buggery chocolate chip cookies was top of my list. They threw packets of rice on the floor. They chewed through the cardboard outer of the toothpaste. My Mum said that the babies were bored and wanted something to play with. I said very calmly that I think it's because, usually, we were round a bit quicker (hint, hint). By now, I'm usually raking through the freezer aisle offers. Right then, we were still on home baking. Argh!!

I went off in a huff to get much needed Pepsi, and came back to find the twins each had a toy from the baby aisle. So I asked my Mother why she felt the need to buy them a toy each when we have loads at home. She said that she had no intention of buying them, and we were going to return them back to the baby aisle once we were done. Note to other customers - please disinfect all baby toys and similar products before giving them to your own child. Did I also mention my Mother is a shameless free-loader? And I mean, shameless. Like bordering on shoplifting free-loading.

I grabbed a basket and went and got the last few things I needed, found her dawdling round the confectionery, and headed for the checkout. When she asked why I was in such a rush, I calmly (I think) explained that as I had two half-hungry, bored babies in the trolley and another two back home and was also bloody starving myself as I was shopping over lunchtime instead of at 10am, LIKE WE'D AGREED YESTERDAY, then I was a bit keen to be getting home. And relax.....

Like me - in a blur

Did I also mention that my Mother seems to live on fresh air, bananas and crisps? When my children stay at her house, they do things like have spaghetti hoops for breakfast, and then live on snacks til they get back home. No meals. No protein or vitamins. Just carbs and sugar. She'll give them sweets about half an hour before bringing them back, and then wonder why they won't eat their tea. It's like she lives on another planet when it comes to nutrition and structure. Did I also mention that she works in the catering industry?

Eventually, we get back home, and she faffs around a bit with one of the older girl's hair, while I bring in the shopping, put lunch in the oven, and un-coat the twins - ON MY FECKING OWN! We manage to get through lunch unscathed, mostly. I trot off to the loo while the babies are strapped into their chairs and I have two whole minutes to myself. At this point I will remind you that my Mum and Dad were coming over today to 'help out.' Remember that bit?

Anyway, I am gone two minutes and on my return I find that the twins are a bit lively and out of their chairs. My Mum and Dad explained that they took them out because one of them had got a bit upset. Apparently, dear Mother had fed one of the 12-month old babies a chocolate cornflake bun, which she had almost choked on. A confectionery item containing sharp edges. What did she expect?

Sometimes I wonder why my Dad puts up with it. He seems to go along with this crazy-sheeeet unquestionably, but then I consider my Dad and then I know my parents are well-matched, which is kind of reassuring. After lunch, I did yet another round of nappy changing due to post-lunch fillage. The first nappy change I did with a twin climbing up my back. The second nappy change seemed a bit easier at first. Probably because instead of climbing up my back, the first twin was busy running round with the packet of wipes, taking them out one by one and laughing. I wrestled her to the floor, took a couple of wipes from her, and went back to the changing. My Dad started laughing ' Oh, they are a handful aren't they?', all the time sat on his backside on my well-worn sofa. Anyway, readers, it's safe to say I put him straight on how unhelpful he was actually being at that moment, and that someone like me might appreciate someone like him maybe distracting a twin by playing with her while I tried to change nappies and stop myself and the other twin getting covered in shit, instead of sitting on his arse.

I know I'm probably being a bit uptight, and that maybe my standards are too high, but Grandma especially drives me batty with her ways. I often wonder in amazement just how she managed to raise three offspring successfully to adulthood without any of them sustaining a serious injury. Especially considering that one time she looked after the twins at her house, one came back with a head bump, and the other with a fat lip. I'm surprised that the older two have not yet contracted scurvy.

Now if Mum were to shuffle off this mortal coil before my Dad, he would probably face a future of starvation and dishevellment. Vice versa, and my Mum's fate would be to wear a lot of purple, own way too many cats, stalk long-forgotten pop stars, and phone me daily with random questions. And I will get phone calls from the police station, again, to tell me they've found her, again, with tins of spam down her purple trousers. I fear my future.

My husband came home from work today to find my Mum and Dad 'helping'. He went to bed for a nap and stayed there until tea-time. I'm not sure if he looks at my Mum and worries or rejoices. Probably worries a little bit.

Regardless, the girls love their bonkers Grandma, and sometimes they like Grandad too. My Mum helps out quite a lot and if it weren't for her willingness, I would get a lot less done. I just wish I didn't fear quite so much for my offspring whenever they are with her. And I still wonder how they ever managed to successfully raise three children of their own.

Easy apple and fruit crumble recipe

2012-02-09T20:08:00.000Z

Nigella Lawson move over. Hardly. For those of you like me who can do a bit of cooking but really can't be arsed, then apple or fruit crumble is the recipe for you.

You will need:-

a large cooking apple (Bramley apple), or two smaller ones. Optional - extra fruit, like brambles/blackberries
self-raising flour
margarine or butter
caster sugar
an oven-proof dish, like a Pyrex one
a mixing bowl
a knife or spatula
some kitchen scales

Peel and chop the fruit into slices and place in the oven-proof dish.

Weigh out four ounces of the flour, and two ounces of the butter/margarine. Put it in the mixing bowl.

Using your fingers, run the marg/butter into the flour and keep rubbing until it makes a mixture that looks like breadcrumbs, as shown in the picture below

Weigh two ounces of sugar, and stir it into the mixture using the knife or spatula

Spread the mixture over the top of the apples/fruit.

Bake in the oven at 200 degrees celsius for 30 minutes. When it starts to go brown, but before it burns - that's when it's ready.

That's it, you're done. Serve warm with custard or cream. Serves three or four people.

Like your cooking kept simple? Then try our shortbread biscuits.

Top 5 phrases that drive me crazy

2012-02-06T21:27:00.000Z

This week, I am joining in with my first ever Listography, on the subject of phrases that drive me crazy. This subject appealed to my deeply-hidden angry side. I apologise now for any sweary rants that escape from my brain and onto your computer screen.

1) It's not rocket science - well, bugger me, is it not? My ex-boss used this regularly and, had I not already detested him, I would've done after hearing that. I almost pointed out that rocket science would probably have been easier than what he was asking me to do, but I resisted. I quit instead, and never looked back. He can stick that rocket up his jacksie, and I would gladly do the equations to find out how much thrust I need to give it to complete it's journey.

2) She started it - Yep, I know, 'she' possibly did, but as I don't have any proof, and you are just as prone to starting things as 'she' is, then what can I do? You are just going to have to learn to get along with each other. Like good sisters do.

3) But <insert name of child's best friend's first name here> has an iPhone. - Well, bully for them. And it's still a NO!!!!

4) I'm not tired - I am sick of hearing this. I have heard it every bedtime since the 7 year-old could talk, which is quite a long time. The 7 year-old is a bugger for resisting going to bed and going to sleep. She always has been, and probably always will be. The 4 year-old has started to copy her. She can bloody well stop.

5) Ooooh, double trouble! - Please, please, please stop now. And I mean, NOW. People were saying this to me before the twins were even born. Complete strangers say it to me. I wouldn't mind so much but the twins are really no trouble at all. Not even a little bit. The older two, maybe. I hate it so much I have spoofed the phrase and used it as my blog name. The main reason I hate it is that I want to reply "Bloody double trouble, is it? You don't know the friggin half of it". But I don't, because I don't want to have to explain why. I am explained out. Now sod off!

Apologies again, especially to any new readers who don't know me any better. Sorry. Again.

The twins' first birthday.

2012-02-04T22:09:00.000Z

Today was the twins' first birthday. We had a fantastic time. We got up around 8am and bummed around for a bit, coming down for breakfast while the Dad had a lie in. After I could draw out breakfast no longer, the Dad surfaced and we all went into the living room to do the requisite present and cards.

The twins got a few new toys to share, a couple of new outfits each and some money, as well as loads of cards. Most people sent them one each, and took care to send them different ones rather than matching, which was lovely and showed that people had really given lots of thought to them.

We left the girls all to play for the morning, and then the twins had a little nap. They woke up in time for lunch. After lunch, we put all the girls in clean outfits, and my cousin came round to do a free photo session for us, and so she could get some portfolio pictures for her new freelancer website. It was very hectic trying to get all the girls to sit still long enough for her to get some good pics. In the end, she just clicked like a maniac and hoped for the best, taking over 700 photos of the girls in various poses, like playing with toys, or just all lying down together, as well as doing some individual portraits for the older two, and doing some garden shots, though it was too cold to stay out for too long.

We had a bit more slobbing this afternoon, and then the grandparents and aunts, uncles and cousins showed up. The twins got even more presents and cards, and then had to go and have another nap. The Dad got the pizzas in, and the bun fight started. We all stuffed our faces, and the older five children played noisily, with the twins sleeping soundly in the pram in the hall all the way through.

Once they had woke up, they had some chips and garlic bread, followed by a petit filous yoghurt each. Rock and roll!

We lit the candles on the cake and sang Happy Birthday. Twice. Some people wanted to film it with their phones and had forgotten, so we had to do it again. The twins were very confused and didn't have a clue what was happening, though they seemed to find it all very amusing. We cut the cake and all had a piece, including the twins who smashed theirs into their highchair trays and threw it on the floor.

Once we'd cleaned them up, they had a bit of playtime with their cousins and sisters. It started snowing, so the guests started to leave before they got snowed in.

After a bit of play-fighting with the grandparents, we put them in their PJs, they had their milk and were taken to bed. They are now sound asleep. Snoring happily, all full of milk and chips.

We have all had a good chinwag about how fast the last year has gone, and how we can't believe the progress the twins have made. Now we are completely shattered, and thankful we didn't do anything more than have a 'quiet' tea-party. We are looking forward to the next year of our family's life, and hope for many more happy days like today.

Twins at 12 months old

2012-02-04T11:00:00.000Z

Happy Birthday to my twins!!!

My gorgeous twin girls are now one year old. I can't believe how quickly the last 12 months have gone, but they are babies no more. We aren't doing very much to celebrate. We are having some family round, and we'll get a take away, and have a cake - with two candles on it of course - but nothing more.

So how are they doing at the moment?

Teeth

They both have two bottom teeth which they got at six months. They also now have two top teeth, which came through a few weeks ago. Twin two has already chipped one of her top teeth in a bath-time related incident. Ah well, that's what baby teeth are for, I suppose. It doesn't seem to be bothering her, so she'll just have to get used to it, and now we have another distinguishing feature, which helps.

Food and drink

They are now on cows milk, and are quite happy on it. There was no refusal phase like with the older two children - the twins didn't even flinch. The twins will eat anything that's put in front of them, and lots of it. They eat a whole Weetabix each for breakfast, followed by toast and margarine. For lunch and dinner/tea, they will eat steamed vegetables, soft-cooked chicken, fish-fingers, banana chunks, sliced ham, sausage rolls, ice-cream, chocolate buttons, pork chop, crisps, meat paste on brown bread, and pasta. They love pasta.

They drink milk three times a day (first thing in the morning, after lunch when they start getting a bit whiney, and at bedtime).

Mobility

They are both walking. At 10 months old they were just learning to stand independently and cruise. Now they are full on walking. They do laps of the living room, and can run away from me if they want to. They see the door open ajar and make a break for it, following each other out like miniature zombies. Walking is the transportation method of choice more often than not.

They each got a little wooden push along for Christmas, which they love. They bomb round the living room with them, and get into little prangs with each other.

Twin two can throw objects, like a ball. She will play roll-a-ball with an adult. Twin one knows how to play it but can't quite get her arms and hands to do the throwing bit, and gets really cross with herself.

They play fight with each other, and tussle over toys and juice cups, with twin one usually coming out the victor. They climb into low shelves and then complain when they get stuck and can't get out again.

They are still doing the starfish thing when I'm putting them in the pram or in their car seats, only with more force.

While we were in the GP's waiting room the other day, twin one cleared all the magazines off the coffee table, climbed on and stood up, arms aloft, much to the amusement of the other waiting patients.

I am completely knackered.

Speech and communication

They started using sounds to get what they want a few weeks ago. Twin two puts her hand out and says 'ta' if there us something she needs or wants. Twin one says 'Hiya' and thinks it is hilarious. They recognise words like 'banana' or 'milk' and can look for items if I say the word. They point to the pictures on the wall if I say the name of a family member.

They communicate with each other by babbling and passing things to and fro, though they are just as likely to sit in silence when they play together.

They each respond to their name.

Sleep

They have a morning nap from about 11am for an hour, though this is getting later and later. They usually have a nap before tea-time for about an hour again (anytime from 3.30pm onwards).

They go to bed about 7.30pm. They point at the door and wave when they are ready. They rarely cry once in bed and tend to go straight to sleep. They stir about 6am, we pop a dummy in, and they re-settle back to sleep for another hour or so.

You can read a post about sleeping tips here.

Twin one

She is the confident, but highly strung one. She is a little bit behind with walking and physically less capable but she makes up for it in attitude. She wins all the tussles over toys and food, and has taken to slapping toys against twin two's head. She is chattier and more confident around strangers.

Twin two

She is more capable but less confident. She doesn't like strangers and will sometimes cling to me. She is taller and sturdier than twin one but loses all the fights and doesn't like confrontation. She cries when twin one bullies her. She pulls the funniest face when something excites her, and is a better listener.

We have started to twin-proof the house a bit more. The stair gate is on and stays closed all the time. The door stoppers are on because one twin will stand with their fingers in the way, while the other one slams the door. We have blocked off access to behind the TV because they keep trying to climb behind it. All valuable and fragile objects have been moved to at least 1m above floor level.

This last year has been fun to say the least. I am shattered on many levels but now feel we are complete as a family. We could not imagine life without them, and are looking forward to their futures.

You can read more articles on my twins by visiting my twins, twins, twins!! page.

Multi Coloured Blog Swap Carnival

2012-01-29T15:29:00.001Z

To visit the live carnival, please click the link below

Multi-coloured Blog Swap

To celebrate my first year of blogging, I am pleased as punch to announce my very first carnival - the Multi Coloured Blog Swap. It is a bit of blogging anarchy in the name of fun and networking.

The carnival is open to all bloggers - parenting bloggers, food bloggers, poets, crafty crafters, TV bloggers, or fashionistas, and everything in between. There will also be a separate, tandem carnival for any business blogs that want to take part too.

The idea is that we all provide a guest post for someone else's blog, and host someone else's in return. Like a swingers party, without the car-keys. Or the actual swinging.

The swaps will be completely random, and will be a round the table swap, where your host isn't the same blogger as your contributor. This is an opportunity to get your words onto someone else's blog and find some more readers, and to have something fresh on your own blog. We may also make some new bloggy friends along the way.

For all you newbies, this is a chance to get on an established blog. For all your veterans, this is your chance to help out the little people.

There are some guidelines on the post below. I reserve the right not to allocate a swap to anyone who breaches the guidelines.

If you want to take part, please get in touch via email troublesmum@gmail.com as soon as possible, and get writing. I will allocate swaps by the 22nd of February, and we all hit the publish button on the 29th. Easy Peasy. A badge will be available in time, with a bit of luck. There will also be a linky here so others can see who has taken part.

Happy Swapping!!

The post:-

Should be at least 400 words, but no more than 1000.

The post should be an original which is not or will not be reproduced elsewhere.

Any pictures need to be copyright free and available to use by the blog owner.

Should be typical of your own blog - they are a good opportunity to showcase what your own blog is about.

Should be the best you can make it - this is a chance to sparkle and attract new readers.

Should be respectful of the host. Don't do anything that would deeply offend your host's readers.

Can not be anything commercial, including the business category.

So as not to devalue your host's blog, please no posts with external links to third parties.

Happy Blogoversary to meeeeee!

2012-01-26T19:00:00.000Z

As of the 26th January 2012, my blog is one year old. I am no longer a 'newbie' and now have to start taking this whole thing seriously. Apparently. Though let's face it, I probably won't.

First of all I would like to say a huge thank you to all the other bloggers I have met who have supported me along the way, given me inspiration, given me a laugh, and given me the impetus to carry on with their lovely comments. You know who you all are, so thank you to each and every one.

A very big mention to Mammasaurus and her team at Love All Blogs, where I have met many other newbie bloggers like me. Their support of all bloggers, especially new ones, is second to none. I am proud to be a graduate of LoveNewBlogs, having taken part in the very first showcase. You will now find me in the 'mummy' or 'parenting' section, as well as other random categories from time-to-time.

To celebrate a whole 12 months of blogging, I won't be doing very much really. I am still a secret blogger, even to the husband, so I can't go out and get sloshed, or have you all round my place for cake or the requisite gin and biscuits, without him getting suspicious. So I will have to celebrate in my own way. Tonight I will be at a parent governor meeting. Whoop-de-doo. I will eat an extra one of the free biscuits in honour of you all. I may be gnawing on a Rich Tea finger, but I will be thinking of you. Especially you.

You can look at a re-cap of my best posts here. Don't forget, you can also find me at Parenting on the Front Line.

Oh yeah, I also have a celebratory competition running for a couple of weeks. Click here for more info. And I will soon be announcing a super-dooper blogging carnival. I hope you can all join in. More info to follow.

So thank you to you all for your readership this year, and I hope to see you again soon. I hope I can provide you with posts worthy of a now supposed experienced blogger. If not, I hope I can supply stuff that at least isn't any worse than the drivel I have done so far.

Loves you all

Competition: Win a years subscription to My-Farm.org.uk

2012-01-26T09:49:00.001Z

THIS COMPY IS NOW CLOSED.

At Trouble Towers, we try and teach the girls the connection between the land and their food. We have a vegetable patch in our garden where we grow our own potatoes and beans, and attempt to grow carrots (though we haven't succeeded yet). We also talk to the older ones about where food like meat, eggs and milk comes from. We regularly visit our local farmer's market. I think it's important for children to understand that food does not magically appear in a supermarket, with no consequences for the environment or the land and creatures around us.

My-Farm.org.uk is a real-life project run by a virtual community of 'farmers'. If you or your family have ever wanted to play farms, but have no room for the real thing, then this is for you. The real farm is in Cambridgeshire in the UK, and an online community of virtual farmers discuss and make decisions on all it's workings. You can read more about MyFarm here. This is a fun and worthwhile project which has the potential to engage children and adults alike in learning more about modern farming and food production.

I am grateful to MyFarm who have given me a year's subscription (worth £30) to give to one lucky reader. To enter to win this fantastic prize, all you have to do is leave a comment below, including a means of contacting you.

For a bonus entry, you can also tweet the following, and leave a separate comment below to say you have done so -

I want to #win a year's membership to MyFarm with @trouble_doubled 's blogoversery #competition http://bit.ly/zRi3bi

The winner will be drawn at random (out of my rather snazzy hat) after midnight on the 10th February 2012. The terms and conditions of my competitions can be found here.

Good luck to you all, and happy farming!

My Husband – Soul-mate, Father, Luddite.

2012-01-25T20:41:00.000Z

Yesterday, something very strange gave me an uneasy feeling.As you may be aware, I blog in secret. Not even the husband knows about my bloggingactivities. It is relatively easy to keep it from him as a) he works shifts, sois not here every evening, and b) he is a lot less technically capable andexperienced than me, and will be the first to admit it. He has a go, and canfind his way round the internet a little. He often buys things online – stuffcomes addressed to me (it’s usually my name on the accounts) that I don’t evenknow he’s bought – but it’s generally only stuff he can get on EBay, one of thefew sites he is comfortable using. I regularly get little parcels turning upwith my name on, and open them excitedly, only to find it’s a spare part forhis motorbike, or a DVD of some action film I've never heard of, and amunlikely to watch. The workings of computers themselves are a mystery to him,and he has always been confused by search engines. Bless.

However, as he uses the communal laptop regularly, I amcareful to cover my blogging footprints by clearing the history after everysession. I am able to use my superiortechnical know-how to bluff my way out of anything blog-related he finds when accidentallycoming across my carefully filed folders. At the moment.

Over the last few years, I have nurtured his non-talent forIT. He relies on me to do anything even the slightest bit complicated, and Idon’t mind. It means I get to know pretty much everything he is up to online –like a kind of fun-mafia gangster. The problem has come recently, when I’vebeen a lot busier than normal. He’s been planning a motorbike trip with some ofthe boys from work, which is fine with me. He works hard, and five days awayisn’t going to damage us, financially or otherwise. He’s been put in charge ofarranging the ferry crossings. So he’s happily browsing the internet for ideasfor days out, and planning a route. He’s looked at lots of pretty pictures onthe tourism websites, and shown me all the things he wants to suggest to theothers for entertainment. He was getting along just fine, until it came toactually booking the ferries.

“Erm…where do you think I should go for the ferries?” – saidMr Luddite

“What? Why?” I say, trying to sort out tomorrow’s pack-ups “FFS,I don’t know. What does Google say?”

“Google? That’s in the bar at the top, right?”

“Yep. Top. Just type in ferries from wherever you’re goingto wherever you want to be and see what comes up.”

“Erm…..right…….like in the white bit above the littlepicture-things?”

And so on. Like pulling teeth. But the more he ispractising, the more confident he is getting. He now knows the differencebetween Bing and Google. He doesn’t know which is better, so he is still clearlyan amateur, but he’s a long way off discovering Blogger (hopefully), so that’sfine with me.

So I start pulling his leg about how lucky he is that I am‘letting him’ go on holiday without us. How he should be making plans for aholiday touring the UK with us girls, and not his dubious motor-bikingcolleagues. I’m only half-joking. I would love to do something like that atsome point, but right now we have other priorities, which is why I’ve had toleave him to find some things out for himself. I don’t have time to faff about online withchildren to look after, you know! He even had a go at sorting out his motorbiketax online this month, all by himself. He is getting better, bit by bit.

On Friday, with our tongue-in-cheek chat about hisselfishness ringing in his ears, he suggested getting another caravan. We had acaravan for a bit and it was great, but that was when we were 2 plus 2, not 2plus 4. I laughed. I added that we couldn’t get a poxy old caravan while we hadsmall children, but that if he really wanted to look into all the aspects ofowning one, then feel free, just do it without bothering me. I expected, ofcourse, that he would just get as far as EBay’s caravan section and then giveup.

So back to yesterday, when I did a quick check of thelaptop’s browsing history and found he had been using the search term‘motorhome insurance comparison site’. It made me uneasy on so many levels. I’mnot sure whether to be more concerned about his increasing IT competence thatcould ultimately lead to my blogging exposure, or about the motorhome whichwill turn up unexpectedly one morning - with my name on the delivery note.

So fellow bloggers, do I nurture his developing IT talent,or tell him he has to stay away until I have cleaned all the viruses off thelaptop, just in case he catches something?

Disclosure: This is a sponsored post

The highs and lows of 2011

2012-01-24T21:36:00.001Z

Thank you to Here Come the Girls for tagging me in this meme. 2011 has been a very up and down year for us, so here goes......

1. Happiest event from 2011

The birth of the twins. They were healthy and happy and have completed our family. The older girls adore them, and they have thrived and come on leaps and bounds.

2. What was the saddest thing to happen?

My last remaining grandparent, and the only great-grandparent the older girls have really known, died. My mother was, and still is, distraught and misses her like crazy. Nan met the twins briefly, but it saddens me to think that she could never know them.

3. What was the most unlikely thing to happen that actually went ahead and did happen?

We all went on holiday, as a new six-some, and came back alive and still talking to each other.

4. Who let you down?

No-one really. Things seem to have gone ok. I don't tend to rely on others, and I get on with things in my own way. Everyone has rallied round this year, with the twins being born and stuff.

5. Who supported you?

The husband. My parents, although they have been very busy themselves. Other mums in the village, who have taken the children to and from school when I have needed help.

6. Tell us one thing you learned.

That when an academic institution tell you your thesis will be marked in 'a few weeks', what they actually mean is 'a few months, and only after you remind us.'

7. Tell us one thing which made you laugh.

This year, I have discovered the delights of The Inbetweeners. I don't think I have laughed so hard in a long time than when Jay had the motorcycle incident. If you haven't seen it, please do - it is the nearest you will ever get to visual poetry.

8. Tell us one thing which made you cry.

See number 2

9. Tell us three things your children did which made you proud.

Trouble two started school part-time and has settled in extremely well.

The twins passed their under-one year review - at nine months. I don't get on very well with our designated HV, who I'm sure thinks I'm a terrible mother, so this made me very happy. Obviously, I'm happy the twins are doing so well, but I was so proud to have given the HV no more supposed reasons to be on my case.

Trouble One got a new school teacher, who thinks my eldest daughter is 'wonderful'. So she must be doing something right.

10. Tell us one thing which makes you proud of yourself

Graduating with my masters degree. I had a fantastic graduation day, after 18 months of hard-work.

11. Tell us one challenge you overcame

Mum and Dad had to move in with us for a bit while their new house purchase completed. Eight of us in one house, including two newborn babies - that was a little bit challenging to say the least. We are all still talking to each other.

12. Tell us three things you would like to change about your life in 2012.

Get more sleep.

Have a tidier house.

Write that damn paper I was supposed to write in 2011. Ooops.

Do you dress your twins the same?

2012-01-21T10:44:00.000Z

For those of us with same-sex multiples especially, the question of whether to dress them the same or not is a pertinent one. I've been thinking about this a lot recently. I've been thinking about why, when I've always thought that parents who dress their twins the same are more than a little bit strange, I am coming round to the idea, and why I sometimes find myself intentionally putting my non-identical girls in the exact same outfit. Weird.

You see, I was always suspicious of multiple-parents who insist their children wear matching outfits. To me it's always been a bit spooky, like those twins on The Shining. Not that I've seen it. It's way too scary for me. Especially those dresses. WTF were their parents thinking?

Click here to getImages &

The Shining Twins Pictures - Pictures

Anyway, I digress. When I first knew I was expecting twins, I absolutely was NOT going to be one of those crazy women who dressed her girls like they were some sort of two-person secret gang. I wanted to treat each girl like the individual she is.

I read on twins' forums about parents who absolutely insist on their multiples being in matching outfits ALL the time, even changing BOTH twins because one of them has soiled their outfit, and changing just the one would mean they no longer match. Nuts, nuts, nuts.

The economist in me thinks that a wardrobe with only one of each outfit is way cheaper than insisting on two of everything, but I think she may be wrong. After all, they each wear one outfit a day, and you need at least seven good outfits per child or you end up washing every day. Does it matter if you have fourteen 'singular' outfits, or two sets of seven? I'm still not sure.

When the twins were born I started getting LOTS of presents, which was fab, including plenty of clothes. My closest friends and relatives didn't dare buy two of the same. However, others that weren't so close, like mums at the school, did buy me two identical outfits. At the time, I died a little inside. Now, I kind of like it (sssssh, don't tell everyone).

The way I see it is this. When you see a nice outfit in the shops, and you don't want to buy two the same, then you have to find something that is similar, but not inferior for the 'other' twin. In a lot of the places I shop, this is more difficult than it sounds, especially for sale items which I am inevitably drawn to. If you can't manage this, and you end up just buying the one, and now you are the proud owner of a spanking new outfit.

Which twin do you bestow this new outfit on? See, I feel guilty giving one twin the lovely, new outfit and not the other. I know I could take it in turns giving them the new outfit, but then it just gets complicated. So it's easier just to buy two of the same.

Also, I find that although my twins are non-identical, they are so very similar looking, putting them in different outfits each morning means I don't have to think too hard through the day working out which one is which. So I like putting them in the same outfit from time-to-time, mainly to confuse relatives. Yes, I have a warped sense of humour, I know.

But the main reason I occasionally dress them the same is because it is very cute, and because in a few years time I will have no say at all in what they wear so I am milking it while I can.

So how about you? Do you find the dressing twins the same thing a bit spooky, or love it?

This is part of the Multiple Mayhem Carnival hosted this time by Maris World. Head over there to find more multiple parenting posts.

My great car boot bargains

2012-01-19T21:29:00.000Z

When I saw Me, the Man and Baby's linky for the second-hand bargains we have found, I could not resist joining in. Over the years, we have bought many things second-hand whether from car boot sales, off ebay, from small ads and Gumtree.com, as well as the numerous hand-me-down clothes and toys we have received from relatives with older children. Indeed, there are loads of things in our house that we have bought used. We love a bargain, and helping the environment by reusing stuff, of course. One man's trash is another man's treasure and all that.

We have a Little Tykes rocker in our garden that we have had for six years. It was probably six years old when we bought it, and it cost us £4 from a car boot sale. We had a pushchair that my mum found at her local car boot sale for the pricely sum of £10. We used it every day for two years, until the front wheels fell off after a two mile walk - 5 metres from our front door. We once bought a touring caravan off ebay for about £250. We used it for four holidays, and then sold it again for £350 in the small ads. Happy days.

The thing we always seem to be able to get hold of really easily and cheaply are children's books. There was some research recently which said that 3 in 10 children don't own books, which is very sad. I think this is sad because we have LOADS of books. They are so cheap at car boot sales that even though we know the girls have books in their collection they haven't even read, we can't resist buying even more.

This set of books below we got for £1 (not each - in total). They are the Animal Ark series written by Lucy Daniels. Trouble One loves reading, and animals, so these are perfect. They aren't in the best condition, but nothing is missing and they are not scribbled all over. Trouble One loves them and keeps them on the shelf she keeps her more special books.

So, what treasures do you have which were once someone else's trash?

How to get your baby to sleep through the night.

2012-01-18T21:53:00.000Z

It's easy to get a baby to go to sleep. They sleep when they are tired. That is not what this post is about. This post is about how to get a baby to settle, sleep, and sleep enough hours for you, the parent, to retain some sanity in the early years.

The first thing I will say, is that not all babies are the same. Some will be natural sleepers, others will be naturally active at night (little buggers). I don't claim to be an expert on making babies sleep well, but I will share what we did, and it seems to have worked for us.

Good sleeping habits come from the parent. I am a big advocate of co-sleeping. I once read somewhere that, at night, lying down with your baby and actually showing her that night-time is for sleeping sends a very powerful message to your child. Getting a baby to sleep in a cot in her PJs while you go downstairs and carry on doing daytime things sends a mixed message. The idea is to lead by example, especially in the early days. I use the phrase 'monkey see, monkey do'!

For the first few weeks of all of our childrens' lives, I co-slept with them for at least part of the night. It helps that I was able to breastfeed all of them too, because I believe that getting out of bed in the middle of the night, coming downstairs to make up feeds is contrary to sending the message that, at night, we stay in our beds and sleep. I know that breastfeeding is not the choice for all parents, but if you can find a way to do night feeds without having to leave the bedroom, then all the better.

Another help is to make sure the baby is as comfortable as possible. Use a vest with poppers, and an all-in-one sleepsuit. Then use a baby sleeping bag / gro-bag. Don't cover the head with a hat. Avoid over-use of cot bumpers and blankets. To avoid the baby waking up due to an uncomfortable bottom, pick a decent nappy. We have always used Pampers Baby Dry. Yes they are expensive, but even if you use them only at night and cheaper ones during the day, you will notice the difference a good nappy makes. If you need to change their nappy, and you will probably need to do this at least once or twice a night for the first few weeks, then keep changes to 'business only' - no talking to them, or playing.

Make the distinction between nap-time and bed-time. Don't put baby in their night-time bed for daytime naps. Use the pram, or car seat for naps, in a different room from their usual bedroom. This saves the baby getting confused and reinforces that the cot is for lovely long night-time sleeps.

Routine is key. The baby needs to get the familiar signals that bedtime is approaching, but don't make a rod for your own back. Our first child had a bath as part of her routine, every single night, and we became a slave to it. I'm not even sure it worked as well as others told us it would. Our current routine is to have tea (dinner), then have a bit of a play. Then we watch some childrens' tv with the older two. Sometimes, just hearing the theme tune to Mickey Mouse Clubhouse can make the babies rub their eyes. We put the twins' pyjamas on, and then they have some milk. We do a last nappy change, then we grab the first twin (either will do), and carry them round to kiss everyone good night. We say 'night night' and wave to anyone who is still up, and carry them upstairs. I put them in their sleeping bag, into their cot, and say 'night night' again. Then I repeat for the other twin. They grab their little comfort toys, lay down and, after not too much whining, settle and go to sleep. They each have their own cot in the same room, and we never swap them about.

We NEVER, EVER bring them downstairs once they have gone to bed. They know they will not be coming out of their cots until I go and get them in the morning. They know this because when they slept in my room with me, that's what we did. We went up to bed when it got dark, and didn't come out of the room until it got light again. They went through a phase of crying to come out of their cots, but after a short period (about three or four days), they realised that they were not going to be taken out and they had to go to sleep. This is akin to controlled crying.

Controlled crying can be a contentious issue. Controlled crying is where you put the baby down, let them cry for a bit, then go in and calm them down by talking or singing to them, or patting them (without picking them up), and leave again. They start crying again, and you repeat your actions. Eventually the baby learns to settle without you. That's the plan anyway. I would highly recommend controlled crying as a technique. It worked for us. We found it took three days for this technique to work. The key is not to give up after one or two nights. This technique worked for us when the babies got to about six months old.

To survive the first few weeks, try and sleep when your baby does. Don't sit up half the night blogging, or watching crap TV - go to bed!!!

Also always remember that the baby's phase of waking every two or four hours is usually a temporary, short-lived one. I know that when you are sleep deprived, thinking logically is easier said than done, but hang on in there - your hard work will pay off.

The twins are now almost 12 months old and they sleep from 7.30pm to 7.30am, with only the occasional interruption, usually due to teething. They sleep all the way through more often than not. Our oldest child (who is seven) still fights settling at every bedtime, but sleeps like a log once she settles and I have to drag her out of bed in the morning. The 4-year old sleeps from 8pm to 7am. She always settled well, but is naturally an early riser. We have managed to train her to go back to sleep until someone else gets up.

All in all, we are pleased with how our girls sleep, especially the twins. But us parents are good sleepers, and monkey see, monkey do!

Good luck

To see other parents' stories about sleep, click on the badge above

The downside of having twins

2012-01-10T21:06:00.000Z

Now I'm feeling a little bit sorry for myself today. It's been one of those days where we've just pottered round the house, watching the twins play and trying not to get drawn in to the crap on the television. We've had a lot of these days lately. The weather doesn't help. It makes it really hard to get out and about, and we end up just counting down the hours until school pick up time so we've got somewhere different to go.

I didn't really have these days with the older children. With one baby in tow, it's pretty easy to get up and motivated. Feeding, dressing and nappy changing is relatively quick, as is loading the car. I used to get the baby ready, chuck the pram and a baby sling in the car and go. Wherever we fancied too. And I didn't worry too much about food either because we could just stop, find a cafe and grab a seat. No high-chair? No problem, the baby could just sit on my knee and eat. Baby needs changing? Fine, just pick her up and take us both off to the changing room with no-one else to worry about while we were in there. The baby would come with me clothes shopping, or we'd go up to the university to borrow some more books while I still had a reader card. Narrow aisles? No problem, we only had a narrow pushchair, and I could always abandon it to carry her up the stairs if the lifts didn't work (again).

Those of you with twins or more will understand why things are not always quite so easy. It takes twice as long to get ready to do anything. Double-wide buggies really restrict where you can and can't go, and so do working (or not) lifts. You don't have the option of carrying two at a time. I can't consider relying on finding a cafe with two high-chairs - lunch is impossible without them.

Clothes shopping? Are you kidding? The aisles are never wide enough to get a double-buggy through, and taking two babies into the changing rooms? You're having a laugh. Don't get me started on the lack of mother and baby parking in some shopping areas. When you have a car (tank) that is large enough for 2 + 4 + a double pushchair, you don't have an abundance of choice on parking spaces.

So, as a result of pretty much all of the above, we end up going to the park (which is fine when we don't have crappy weather), or to the supermarket (but only the one I know where we are guaranteed to get a wide parking space and a double-seated trolley).

I remember all the things me and the older girls used to do. I remember taking the eldest to a little baby music group, where you put the baby on your knee and sung and did all the actions. It was great. The twin mum in the group used to bring her Mum with her to help. My Mum works full-time, and I would never expect her, or anyone, to give up what they love doing to give us a hand a couple of days a week.

We used to go swimming, weekly. The older two are so confident in the water it sometimes scares me. Me and the twins have been swimming once in their life, and they are almost a year old. Bring on the mummy guilt.

The Dad works shifts and actually, sometimes he is around during the day. Early shift means he gets in sometimes not long after lunch, but is shattered when he does. Late shift means he lies in for most of the morning the day after. He is very hands on, but it's a rare day when his schedule works out so that we have enough time to do the school run, get the twins ready, go out (packed up of course) and then return in time for the school pick up. So we spend most of our days just bumming around at home, doing not very much. Like today.

Don't get me wrong, I love being home playing with them all day, but I'm sure they must be getting sick of the sight of me and the inside of the house. So I'm feeling terrible guilt and also think I might be going a bit stir crazy. On the plus side, I am thinking about starting a daytime TV blog. I just need to be able to do it while I have twins crawling all over me.

How to recruit a nanny

2012-01-07T15:46:00.000Z

Recruiting a nanny is a sticky business. The person who you hire will not only be looking after your most precious possessions, but also will be given roaming rights through your home, and be trusted with your belongings, many of which will be expensive or have sentimental value. I don't mean to put you off hiring a nanny. Indeed, our nanny was fabulous and I would trust her with everything we own. But you must choose carefully, if only for your own peace of mind. The first step in the employer-nanny relationship is the recruitment process.

Under HMRC rules, nannies are NOT self-employed, and are legally, directly employed by an adult in the family they work for. This means that you should exercise caution when recruiting. You should not act in a way that could discriminate against a particular applicant, especially with regard to race, gender (including marital or pregnancy status) or age. Be careful how you word any adverts you place to avoid these potential pitfalls.

There are lots of places you can start looking for a nanny. Firstly, if you have a corner shop you can place an advert in the window. This increases the chances of recruiting someone who is local, which could be of benefit to you. You should put a landline phone number on the advert rather than a mobile, but don't state your address or the names/ages of your children.

Secondly, you can use the internet. Free sites such as gumtree.com are popular places for job hunters. Be careful because these sites tend to be unregulated so can be a bit of a free-for-all. However, there are lots of genuine people on there too. I found my nanny using a gumtree ad, so it can't be that bad. Again, don't state your address or your children's details.

There are also dedicated websites for nannies and childcare recruitment. Some of these charge a fee but you can get a good idea upfront of how many nannies are registered as available in your local area before you sign up. A good one is this one. (Enter the code FYT15 before 16/03/12 to get 20% membership.)

Another popular way to recruit a nanny is through a nanny agency. Most areas have one, especially in places like London. The agency will have potential nannies registered with them who have been interviewed and vetted. Some will already have their OFSTED registration approved and CRB check done. They should come with references already checked-out, though it's always prudent to check them again yourself. This process can be the least painful and time-consuming but you will pay a fee to the agency for this service. Check the agency's terms before you sign anything. Some agencies work on a commission basis, some on a flat fee. Check under what terms you will be entitled to a fee-refund if things don't work out.

A very good way of recruiting a nanny is by word-of-mouth. Tell other parents you are wanting a nanny and you may be put in touch with possible candidates. Word-of-mouth means you can ask questions about the candidate which you wouldn't be able to ask otherwise, and avoids fees and advertising costs.

As for my experience - I used all the methods listed above, and interviewed two nannies from an agency, one from a corner-shop ad, one from an ad on gumtree.com and one through word of mouth. The one that worked out for us was the ad on gumtree.com. The candidates sent by the agency were perfectly fine, but they wanted a wage I could not justify and were charging a fee that seemed to me to be a lot of money. Saying that, I employed the lady I did as she was the best for the job, and this would have been the case, agency or not.

So if you are looking for a nanny, use as many options as possible to recruit one. The wider you cast your recruitment net, the more potential nannies you will find, and the more chance you have of getting the right person. Good luck.

You can read about my nanny experience here.

Ten reasons why Roy Wood can go and feck himself.

2012-01-01T21:24:00.000Z

Oh, I wish it could be Christmas everydaaaaaay. When the kids start singing and the band begins to play-ay-ay!! sings Roy Wood of glam-rock group Wizzard. For many he is THE voice of Christmas. I, for one, want to punch him in his beard-surrounded mouth.

Courtesy of YouTube.

Don't misunderstand me - I love Christmas as much as the next 30-something, slightly-cynical female, however, I think to wish for it every single sodding day is, well, a step-too-far. Here's why......

1) Jesus can only have one birthday party a year. Anything else is just greedy. Even the Queen only has two, and we all know the second one is just for show.

2) Crap TV. 100 best Toys, 100 greatest TV Christmas moments, re-runs of Morecambe and Wise (who I never really found funny), The Wizard of Oz (again). Yes it's great to have a trash TV blow-out once a year, but every day?

3) The shopping. Not just the presents, but the food too. In the three days before Christmas, my twitter feed was nothing but 'OMG, ASDA is rammed!' etc. I can't cope with having to wait til after bedtime to go shopping at the 24-hour Tesco every fricking day.

4) The food. I love chocolate. I love Christmas cake. I love black forest gateau. I do feel, however, that eating nothing but the above and turkey and sprouts in perpetuity might result in some sort of bowel disorder. I also would not be able to move from the arm-chair.

5) The expense. Presents, food, cards all to pay for, and only the emergency services and hospital staff actually working to earn any money. Sorry, Roy. The economics just don't add up.

6) The craziness. It's Christmas, so we all do random stuff we wouldn't do at other times of the year. This year, my 50-something mother has been playing with the 4 year-old on Wii Dance Juniors, which is hilariously funny. But my mother has squeezed three children out through the main hatch, and if these sort of shenanigans were to happen every day, I'm not sure my living-room carpet could cope. I'd have to install lino.

7) The music. Cliff Richard can feck off, as can Shakin Stevens. Even the dear old Pogues would get dull after 365 airings. And don't get me started on Mariah Carey.

8) The decorations. Ours look fab. For about three weeks. And this year, I spent three weeks trying to keep the crawling twins from smashing all the low-hanging baubles or pulling the tree down completely. I think I would cry if I had to do this all day, every day.

9) No school. Argh! I love my kids. I love our weekends, and look forward (sometimes) to the school holidays. Under my feet 24/7? No way. I'd never get anything done, and The house would be a dump. Much like today.

10) The gender-imbalance of it all. Now I don't want to get all crazy feminist on you all, but I wonder if Roy Wood would be so bloody keen on endless Christmasses if he was the one doing the shopping, wrapping, writing the cards, waiting on guests, playing Santa on Christmas Eve, keeping track of the kids' presents so they can be assisted in their thank-you note writing, and coming up with recipes for turkey left-overs for a week afterwards? I think if Mrs Wood has so far refrained from kicking Roy in the balls, then she has done very well.

So there you have it. I do love Christmas, I do. But please, only once a year. If you can think of any more reasons, please add them below. I will agree with each and every one.

My 2011 - An achievement in itself.

2011-12-22T20:26:00.000Z

What a difference in my life between last Christmas and this. There is no doubt that 2011 has been a non-stop roller-coaster ride. I am proud of what our family has achieved this year, and especially proud of what I, myself have done. I deserve a medal. A great big one.

The year started off with me being massively pregnant. My parents were taken up with my very poorly Nan, and my husband was trying to work as much as possible to buy himself as much time off as he could around my due-date. I coped on my own with two children and, with the occasional bit of help from a couple of mums nearby, got them both to school on time, every time. Not once did I forget a book bag, or a packed-lunch, or a school event. OK, so it's not exactly been the same story since, but the very wintry weather at the beginning of the year did not put the dampeners on us having the best start to the school term that we could.

In January, I decided to start a blog. This was either brave or foolish. Come February, when the twins were born, I didn't go anywhere near the blog for four weeks. It was hectic to say the least. Dad was off work and pretty much took over the care of the older two girls while I got the twins settled in. We had a few weeks of co-sleeping, long lie-ins and feeding. During this period, visitors would comment how calm our house was, and I agreed. I was amazed myself at how well we were coping.

Nan died soon after the twins were born. I have no idea how we got through this phase. Trouble One was devastated, as was my Mum. Everyone was pre-occupied with the arrangements for the funeral and the sorting out of her house. As a family unit, we concentrated on getting through things one day at a time. The older girls spent time with their Grandma when she could be spared, but this period was exhausting, for all of us. Not being able to call on my family when things got tough was a little strange. Thank goodness Dad was off work.

The twins have grown bigger and stronger. I breastfed them until they were 8 months old. They are thriving. They are bigger than average, even for singleton babies. They are taking their first steps now - six weeks short of their first birthday. They eat food like they are hollow, and I am immensely proud of the way they are developing.

In July, I managed a whole day out without the children, to attend my masters degree graduation ceremony. I also have mentally come round to the idea of being a stay-at-home-mum, a position which I never imagined I would be in. This acceptance has helped me a lot, and I think this has had a positive effect on the girls too.

I am also very proud of this 'ere blog. I started it as a bit of an experiment and it has gone well and I am now a blogging-addict. OK, my Tots100 ranking is a bit erratic to say the least, and I don't get massive visitor numbers, but it doesn't matter. I have made some fantastic friends in the blogging community, and have a lovely elite bunch of discerning followers.

This Christmas will be good too, fingers crossed. OK, the house is a complete tip but I have managed to clean up enough to get a half-decent tree up, and some decorations. The presents are all bought and wrapped, and dinner is planned and (mostly) shopped for. My sanity is still intact, pretty much, and the children believe in the magic of Christmas as much as they ever did. There is still two days left for things to become undone again, but if we all hold our breath, it'll turn out just fine.

But what I am most proud of this year is how we, as a family, have coped with all the changes and come through it together. Me and the hubby are still strong, despite the lack of sleep and the inevitable increased bickering. The children (still) seem relatively well-balanced and haven't missed out on too much. We haven't lost any of the children, and there have been no broken bones or injuries likely to cause permanent scarring, though we have had a 'toy-up-the-nose' moment and a slug-eating incident, which we will say no more about.

Lets see what 2012 brings. Thank you to all for reading this year

and I hope to see you in the next.

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

How to use up your old Christmas cards

2011-12-19T23:03:00.000Z

You know when you get literally hundreds of Christmas cards every year? As we have two children at school and a large extended family, we seem to get loads of cards, which is great. But this also poses the problem of waste, and I always feel acutely aware of the effects that just tossing the cards into landfill has on the environment. I also love ways of saving, or even making money.

Every year in our house we recycle our used Christmas cards by making them in to gift tags. After Christmas we have a good sort through all the cards. We get out the crafting scissors and make gift tags. They can be very simple, square cut ones. Or ones with wavy or zig-zag edges. Sometimes we cut round the picture of Santa, or a snowman or whatever looks suitable. This means we have a ready supply of gift tags of all sizes, and something to suit any present for anyone.

How to make recycled gift tags -

Get some crafting scissors of various styles, and some straight scissors too.
Sort the cards out. Some won't be suitable for use. The gift tag will need to be blank on the reverse, so cards which are printed on the inside front won't be appropriate, nor ones that are heavily embossed.
Cut out the gift tag. Some cards may have two or three things you can cut out and turn into a tag.
You can use your gift tag by just sello-taping them to the present, or by making a hole and tying them with string. To make a hole, use a standard hole punch.
You can buy string from ebay or craft shops. I bought 100 metres of 0.8mm gold cord for £5.50 inc p&p, which works out at less than 6p a metre, which is enough to do about 10 tags.
Recycle cards that cannot be made into tags, and the offcuts in the usual way. Check with your local authority to find the best way to do this.

This year we also bought some cellophane bags (at about 8p each), sorted the tags into batches of 10 or 15, and donated them to the school fair for them to sell. we had over 20 packs. So for an outlay of about £3, we produced about 240 gift tags, which works out at just over 1p each.

The beauty of this crafting activity is that even my 4-year old can do it, and the really crappily cut ones look very cute.

We do this every year. I tell other mums I do this, and they seem a bit taken aback. So my question is - do you do this too? Please tell me you do. Please.

And if you like this, you'll love our shoebox aquarium.

I'm a celebrity......

2011-12-17T20:52:00.000Z

Here Come the Girls has tagged me in the I'm a celebrity thingy-me-bob. Yes, I know it's finished, and no, I didn't watch much of it this series, but it would be rude not to partake. So here's my 11 questions.....

1. What one thing about being a parent makes you scream 'Get me out of here!'?

Puke, vomit, barf. Whatever you want to call it. I can't handle it - my own, my kids, whoever's. Luckily my husband is brilliant and he is the first person the kids go to if they are ill.

2. What skills, if any, do you have that would be useful in the jungle?
Sport. Anything. I am pretty good. OK, the pelvic floor isn't what it was, but I can shoot nets, kick a football and throw a javelin pretty well. So I'd be ok as long as the tasks involved some sort of sporting skill and agility. As a bonus, I was a girl guide and can start fires like a seasoned arsonist.

3. How are you likely to annoy people if you were stuck with them for three weeks?

Snarky, know-it-all comments. Enough said I think.

4. What is the worst thing you have ever eaten?

Not much. I tend to stick to tried and tested favourites (see question 1). I once tried a physalis. Gross. I imagine that's what earwax tastes like.

5. What luxury item would you take into the jungle with you?

My teddy bear. Can't sleep without him. (Please don't tell anyone. Any street cred I have managed to accumulate thus far would be seriously depleted).

6. What is the most daring thing you have ever done?

Having children. A complete leap in to the unknown.

7. Who would you miss most if you went into the jungle with a bunch of strangers?

My oldest child. She drives me up the wall, she never stops talking, and is highly 'spirited', but I would miss not chatting with her every day. And every day she talks more sense than most of them 'celebrities' in the jungle. Which is really saying something.

8. What celebrity, alive or dead, would you like to have with you in the jungle?
Bill Bryson. I have met him and he's ace. He could keep us all entertained with fascinating stories for days.

9. What would scare you about being in the jungle?

Having to live on rations. I snack like snacking is going out of fashion. Lack of crisps is akin to an emergency situation in our house.

10. After leaving the jungle, you go to a luxury hotel. What would be the first thing you did on reaching your hotel?

Press the red button and read the news. I am a news junkie and start getting twitchy if I'm not up to date.

11. Why is the person who tagged you a star?

Rebecca of Here Come the Girls is a star because she has a great sense of humour and can make a killer pom pom, and superb blog badges.

I am tagging these people in the hope they haven't done it already. Good luck people.

@Wendy0

@lamujrelibre

@laureninsuffolk

@headspaceblog

Review: Oil and Vinegar Fire Extinguisher set

2011-12-16T21:55:00.003Z

The lovely people of ideasbynet.com have sent me a really funky and very different oil and vinegar set to review.

The set comprises two bottles - one for oil and one for vinegar. They hold 100ml each, and are approx 6"/16cm tall. They come in a solid, plastic presentation box, inside a nice outer cardboard box. These would be a great present for a health-and-safety mad food-lover, and would make fantastic conversation pieces at your next dinner-party!

The set sells at £19.99 (+P&P).

There's not much more I can say about this set really. The quality is fine, and the set is what it is - a two-bottle oil and vinegar dispenser set. They are smaller than I expected, but are perfectly functional and make a change from more traditional models. If you like the sound of this you can visit www.ideasbynet.com for further stocking filler products and promotional gifts.

Competition: Win a mobile phone holder

2011-12-16T11:14:00.000Z

Now, I know it's not an i-Pad or a Kindle, but in the run-up to Christmas, those smaller, personal presents are just as (ok, nearly as) important. The lovely people at ideasbynet.com have provided me with a neat little desktop mobile phone holder to give away to one of my readers. And it's always nice to win something, no matter how small.

The gravity-defying phone holder is a business-to-business promotional gift which are sold in batches of 50+, and can be personalised with your company details. They are ideal to give away as presents to your customers, and will sit neatly on their desks all year round.

To win one of these (non-personalised) for you, or for someone's stocking gift, please leave a comment below with a method of contacting you (twitter name, www address). A name will be selected at random after midnight on Monday 19th December and I will be in touch. We hope to be able to send the holder out in time for Christmas, so the sooner the winner gets back in touch, the better.

The gift is being sent directly from ideasbynet.com.

As a bonus entry, tweet the following message and leave me an extra comment below to say you have done so

'I want to win a gravity-defying mobile phone holder with @trouble_doubled http://trouble-doubled.blogspot.com/'

The terms and conditions of my prize-draws can be found here. However, on this occasion, multiple entries are allowed (max two per person), subject to the instructions above.

GOOD LUCK!!

A tooth fairy tale

2011-12-15T19:00:00.000Z

The tooth fairy - that omnipotent yet elusive creature. She, or he, or maybe a whole fleet of them hold the sort of power over your child that us mere mortals can only dream of. Yet, she (probably) is a complete and utter bitch.

Take this Saturday morning. She failed to show. My seven-year old had lost her extremely wobbly tooth in a game of lion-cubs with one of the twins on Friday evening. OK, it was late on, practically bedtime, but the tooth fairy could not have failed to notice the actual act of the tooth falling out, what with all the excited squealing.

Then on to bedtime where said 7-year-old placed the tooth under her pillow, as she has done so for the five lost teeth that have preceded it in the act of dropping out. The tooth fairy hasn't failed to come the very same night on previous occasions. My child's faith was intact and untainted. Until Saturday.

Me and the child had a bit of a brainstorming session, to see if we could work out what had gone so horribly wrong. We worked out that, possibly, the cold weather had meant the tooth fairy had to cut her rounds short. My child would probably be at the bottom of her list, due to her tooth not falling out until nearly bedtime. We thought that it would be likely that her name would be right near the top, if not at the top of the list for the following night. She seemed ok with that.

I mean it could have been that the tooth fairy had had a very busy day taken up with other children and various other things, and that Mr tooth fairy had been at work all day and wasn't back in until after bedtime. And they just forgot. Maybe. Anyway.

So off to Grandma's went the child for a sleepover on Saturday night. She decided to leave her tooth behind so that the tooth fairy would know where to come. In the afternoon, she called in a panic to ask me to remove the tooth and hide it because she had gone with Grandma to a craft fair and bought a special tooth box. So I duly went off to the bedroom, removed the tooth and put it somewhere the tooth fairy wouldn't think to look.

Come Sunday night and the tooth was put into the new box and placed under the pillow, and on Monday morning, the tooth fairy had been and brought us a shiny pound coin, which was fab because we are skint this week. About bloody time too - three nights it took her - three!!

What I don't understand though is why I have this nagging guilt inside me? It's a mystery.

Parenting on the front line - Fail Friday

Birth Story: The planned caesarean section

2011-12-09T12:45:00.000Z

When I found out I was pregnant for a third time, and that it would be twins I suspected it would mean my birth choices would be limited. Having already had an emergency c-section, and a subsequent, complicated VBAC, I was not known for just turning up, squeezing them out and going home.

I was referred to the consultant (again) and we discussed the options. I said I'd done it both ways now, and that either way was fine - I just wanted to do whatever was best for the babies. The consultant said he wanted to do an elective c-section, as while the risks of complications when delivering one baby by VBAC was known, the risks of delivering multiples by VBAC was not.

We chose to find out the sex at the 20 week scan, knowing we needed to be as prepared as possible. We were to have another two girls. I think I would have been more surprised if they'd said there was a boy in there somewhere.

The pregnancy progressed well but my due date approached and while I was visiting the consultants' clinic every two weeks, we were no nearer getting a birth plan sorted officially, or a date booked for the delivery. I was getting a bit anxious. I did not want to go in to labour spontaneously in the middle of the night and have to battle the midwife team at the hospital, with no consultant's signature on my notes. I knew from experience that getting the midwife team to take my labour seriously, or even read the notes was a step too far, especially if you turn up in the middle of the night shift.

At 37 weeks, I demanded to see the original, senior consultant I had spoken to on my first visit. He did all the routine tests, looked at the scan I had done half an hour previously and decided that I would be booked in for an elective c-section that very week. The babies were a good weight, I was healthy, and there was no advantage to dragging things out any longer. I was also massive, like side of a house massive, so it was a bit of a relief.

So first I had to have an MRSA swab test done to make sure I was not infected and could have a surgical procedure. I thought this was a bit odd. I asked the clinic nurse if I turned out to have MRSA, what my other options for delivery would be. She didn't seem to know the answer to that one. Good job they came back clear then!

Then I had to have all my bloods taken. Again. This was so they could identify my blood group, and rhesus factor, and assess my allergies or something or other. I'm not sure my blood had changed that much since I last had them done at 32 weeks, but hey! They then sent me to the pharmacy to collect my meds for the surgery.

The day before the op, I could not eat after my (light) evening meal, which was a real drag. Then I had to take some anti-sickness pills. When I woke up in the morning, I had to take some more pills, eat some un-buttered toast (minging) and only drink a small glass of water (oh joy). Then I had to have an antacid drink. I felt as sick as a dog. I could not have anything to eat until after the surgery.

At the hospital

We (me and the husband) turned up at hospital as planned at 8am, though I had to go in alone so he could park the car almost half way back home again. I was taken in by a lovely midwife who was very calm. It was a huge difference from the can't-be-arsed reception I had received last time I came in. I was shown to a lovely room.

Over the course of the next two hours, I was prepped for surgery. My hubby turned up in the meantime, and was very chuffed with his blue scrubs, but not so pleased with the hat.

The anaesthetist visited to say hello. She prepped my arm with an intravenous valve so they could administer the anaesthetic later. She was lovely, but not very competent. I was covered in blood before I'd even got near the theatre.

At 10am, the surgeon's assistant came down and told me it was my turn next, which was really quick as I had half-expected to be in there waiting all day. He gave me another ant-acid drink, which was the foulest thing I have ever tasted. Ever. Honestly, not even my cooking came anywhere close. Then I started to feel sick and dizzy. It's a strange feeling - having extreme nausea but knowing you won't be sick because of the anti-sickness pills. It's also a feeling I don't like and induces panic in me. It's fair to say that right then, I was absolutely bricking myself.

I was scared for the major surgery I was going to be having in about ten minutes time. I was scared for the babies and prayed for their safe arrival. I was scared for my husband who is usually a big fairy-wuss when one of his girls is going through pain. I was scared in anticipation of the after-effects of surgery, and the unknown that was to come. I cried. A lot.

I walked into the theatre and did exactly as the doctors asked. There were a lot less people in the room this time round. Only two surgeons, the anaesthetist, two midwives, the assistant, and me and the husband. It was amazingly calm. I was shaking like a leaf from fear and the nausea.

It took about five minutes for the spinal block to take effect. The anaesthetist did all her checks and then the operation got under way. Within a few minutes the first twin was pulled out. She screamed and screamed and screamed. She had hair! We were shocked. The older two had been bald and fair, but this one had a dark mop, which was a bit weird. I cried harder and harder. The husband was fantastic and stayed strong the whole time.

Then, two minutes later, twin two was pulled out. She had the same hair too. She also screamed and screamed. The midwives showed me our new babies and took them away for the tests. The noise was deafening. The twins were crying in-sync and it was the loudest newborn baby crying I have ever heard. I was still sobbing like a baby myself. By now, it was mostly with relief.

They were both girls, as expected, and both near enough exactly 7lbs each. Again, they were both perfect and gorgeous.

Afterwards

I was stitched up and moved to a wheely trolley. We were taken to recovery, with the babies in a cot each, my husband proudly pushing one, and a midwife pushing the other. I had biscuits for lunch. The babies were a bit grouchy and unsettled though they were doing very well. We were in recovery til about tea-time. A few checks later and we were ready to go up on to the ward. To make things easier, we put both babies in the same crib for their trip. They immediately settled. The grouching stopped and they started coo-ing instead. From that moment, they stayed in the same crib for our entire hospital stay.

By evening visiting time we were in a private room with en-suite which had been specially reserved for us. It was fantastic. Hubby's mum and dad were our first visitors. I was very sore, and had a catheter (just like last time). I could also feel the pains coming on slowly. By bedtime I was on my own again, well with the twins anyway. By midnight I was screaming in pain (see birth story one) and demanding morphine. This time I knew what it was but it didn't hurt any less. Thanks to the wonder of injected drugs, I was able to get some sleep that night. It was the second night when I wasn't allowed any more drugs that the pain really caused me problems, but I knew it was only going to be temporary and that made it easier to deal with mentally, though the midwife that night wasn't much help really. But, through experience, I knew the pains were probably not fatal - I was not going to die.

I got a bit more help from the midwife team this time round. Twins are a novelty even to the maternity hospital. My midwife it would seem, was still young and keen and had bothered to read my notes. She could see I wasn't a first-timer and respected my opinions a lot more than previous midwives had done. This made this stay in hospital actually quite pleasant.

The night-time midwife showed me how to tandem feed the babies, and she was so pleased with her achievement, she went and got her colleague to come and have a look. That was when I realised that me and the twins were going to be a freak-show for a long time yet, but the midwife was genuinely lovely, and obviously pleased with our progress that I wasn't cross. I think the twins have mellowed me somewhat.

After only another day of pain and indignity, we were discharged. The midwife said there was nothing more she could do for us that we couldn't do for ourselves and we were out of there. Again, it was late and getting dark, but I daren't say no in case she changed her mind.

We made a fleeting visit to my Nan's house, knowing it would probably be the first and last time she would meet her special twin great-grand-daughters, and then headed home where we planned on bedding in for a few days at least, or for as long as we could get away with. That was the start of Trouble Doubled as we know it. The rest, and the best, would be yet to come.

Birth choice

I can see why anxious mothers-to-be like the idea of a planned c-section. There was a massive contrast between the calm, planned c-section I had with the twins, and the emergency c-section I had first time and the fraught, assisted VBAC I had for the second baby. There was also a big difference in how I was treated on the post-natal ward. It was so much more calm because they were expecting me, and had reserved a nice room. I so wish I'd had the same treatment previously, and that all mothers could have the same too.

This is my ranty bit now - if mothers weren't so badly treated when they turn up in the middle of the night in labour, if they weren't made to feel stupid and are doubted that they even know when they are in labour themselves, if they weren't given shoddy care when they arrived at the delivery ward, if they had a better eye kept on them throughout labour, and were given the help and support they need WITHOUT having to shout loudly or get aggressive, I think less women would see elective c-sections as the better option and the whole debate about birth-choice would be unnecessary.

Anyway, if you have got this far, thank you for reading. I don't have any more birth stories to tell, and fully intend not to in the future. My body has been through three pregnancies, two c-sections and a VBAC, producing four lovely, healthy babies. I think I have put it through enough and it now deserves a rest, and I deserve a health spa and cosmetic surgery.

For more birth stories like these, head over to Actually Mummy by clicking on the image below.

My best posts of 2011

2011-12-06T21:15:00.001Z

I started this blog at the beginning of 2011, just before the birth of the twins (my 3rd and 4th children). It was a crazy time to start a blog. I did two posts before the birth, and then nothing for six weeks. I couldn't get anywhere near the computer, even though I had a lot to tell. It was manic-crazy. I added a few more posts, as and when I could, but I was hardly prolific. When things started to settle down around August, I was able to devote a bit more time to blogging and to imposing my badly-written drivel on to you, the reader.

So to save you the hassle of having to trawl through heaps of inane toot to find anything worth reading, I shall save you the bother. This is the pick of my blog........

Why my children smell was the first post I received any comments on. It made me happy that someone, somewhere read my blog and liked what I had written. It is a post trying to explain the mammoth task that is bath-time in our house.

The twins - 6 months old and subsequent posts at 8 months and 10 months have been very popular. Lots of people find my blog through search engines, and the twins' milestone posts appear to be what other people are looking for. I have had some lovely comments off other parents on these ones too. My post My advice to new twin mummies is one of my most-read posts of all time. In fact, the twins theme is so popular, I've made a special page with links to all my twin-related posts.

My most read post of all time is a competition post I ran for Bras4Mums, which is no surprise. However, this post also contained a brilliant attempt at poetry, and led to the most disturbing search term ever used to find my blog - "humongous grannies". Sometimes, I admit, I google the search term to see just how far up the results page I am. I am a bit of a stats geek, and love crap like this. I have as yet, not plucked up the courage to search this one.

My second most read blog post of all time is How I came to terms with my SAHMness, a post about my slow realisation that being a stay at home mum is nothing to be ashamed of and life is not so simple to say you are either a mum, or career-oriented. This post also got me my first (and only so far) negative comment, but I didn't start blogging to be everyone's friend. I got some fantastic comments from other women, and from a stay-at-home-dad too. Some of these comments made me cry (in a good way) and gave me even more passion for blogging. Thank you to everyone who commented.

On a sad note, the post I'm most proud of is Where my twins came from, which is a tale about how my parenting story is eternally linked to that of my Nan. The death of my Nan and the birth of my twins have defined 2011 for all of us. This post got some lovely comments from people who experienced something similar in their lives, and each and every one was greatly appreciated.

I am a bit of a feminist and enjoy writing about serious issues, like pensions. However, I do occasionally post the odd random thingy-me-bob, and while you won't find many homely craft and recipe posts on my blog, I did once make an aquarium scene out of a shoebox. This now notorious post (after a little rant on Twitter) gets a LOT of hits, which I always find a bit illogical. After all, if you knew it was possible to make an aquarium scene out of a shoebox, and were savvy enough to google it, why would you need to know how to make one? Puzzling. It's also quite galling that sometimes the posts I put the most effort into are lost in the clamber of people wanting to read all about crafting. But, there you go.

Now, I don't often get angry on the blog, and I don't like being judgemental, but I am not immune to the odd rant. My biggest pet peeve, a blog post inspired by BritMums is one of the most viewed and commented posts. I also get a bit cross about litter bugs too.

On a more festive theme, my post about My little girl's letter to Santa got a lot of attention. My 7 year old wrote to Santa back in October with a completely ridiculous list. Santa wrote back. I blogged both letters. This is a post highly popular with search engines, but I think the person who found it using "letter from Santa to a naughty girl" may have left disappointed.

So, there you go. 2011 on my blog in a few select posts, but there are plenty more, so please come back. The twins will be a year old in February, and I think the best is still to come. Feel free to subscribe by email using the box at the top right of this page. I can't promise not to send you seemingly-endless reams of random drivel, but there might be an occasional gem in there. Possibly.

Birth Story: The successful (ish) VBAC

2011-12-03T20:11:00.000Z

After the trauma of the eldest child's birth (an emergency c-section), I was referred to a consultant for baby number two. We knew she was going to be a girl as we'd chosen to find out at the 20-week scan. It had been three-and-a-half years since my c-section and I remembered it well.

The consultant decided that my next baby should be delivered by a 'normal' vaginal delivery. There were no obvious reasons why I could not give birth vaginally. I didn't have a history of super-size babies, or a pelvic problem. He also advised that by having a VBAC (vaginal birth after Cesarean), it would leave me more options in the future. At the time, I didn't intend on having more children, but I'm not one for burning my bridges, so I agreed. He told me that I would need to be prepped for an epidural in early labour as I would be deemed a higher risk for needing an emergency c-section (again), and that I would be closely monitored. The doctor was fantastic. I trusted his every word. Silly me.

According to research, a VBAC attempt is successful 75% of the time, which is only a little bit less than a normal vaginal delivery with no previous c-section. The main risk with having a VBAC is rupture of the c-section scar and this can be fatal, although the risk of this happening is around 1 in 200. See this website for more information.

The day/night of the birth

I went into labour naturally just after we'd gone to bed at midnight, four days after my due date. I knew what it was straight away, though my waters never broke. I rang the hospital and this time I left them no option - I was coming in whether they liked it or not. Me and the husband (as he was by this time), left his Mum and Dad babysitting and we made our way to the eerily dark and quiet hospital. The same one I'd given birth to the eldest baby three years earlier. I was not brimming with confidence.

On arriving at the delivery ward, it was very quiet. There was only one lady screaming away, which, by experience, meant they were not that busy, which was good. We were shown into a lovely room with it's own bathroom (which I didn't get last time). I had my trusty tens-machine again, and wasn't showing many outward signs of labour. The midwife doubted I was in labour. Convinced I was at least 5cm, I suggested she do an examination, which she did. She declared I was 1cm dilated, and she had a good mind to send me home again. I protested, so she suggested I went 'up to the ward'. However, this meant I could not have the husband with me. We sent him home - the midwife expecting I would soon be joining him. Me expecting we would be calling him back in again before he'd have chance to even get something to eat.

So at 2am, there I was on a post-op recovery ward with three women trying to sleep after their routine hysterectomies. I was not happy. The nurses told me to have a lie-down and get some rest. I told them I couldn't even get on the bed because of the contractions. So they suggested I have a bath and take some painkillers. I had two baths, and a full dose of paracetamol and then started bleeding heavily. They didn't seem phased. I expressed concern about being in a ward with other ladies trying to sleep. The ward nurse put me in the dayroom. On my own. With no emergency call button. She didn't seem half as concerned as I was.

After hours on my own walking round and round the room, and reading the same back copy of Hello magazine for about the third time, I decided that this was beyond a joke. My contractions had been speeding up and getting stronger and I could wait no longer. I demanded the ward nurse call the delivery suite and get me back there. I told them that this baby was coming, whether I was 1cm dilated or not. By this time, I could not walk. They sent a wheelchair for me, and rang my husband who drove the ten miles back to the hospital he had just driven home from only four hours earlier.

I was transferred at speed back up to the delivery suite, back to the exact same room I had been turfed out of only a few hours before. It had not been used in the meantime. I was livid. I asked the midwife when I was going to be prepped for my epidural, just in case. She asked why I would need that doing as I wasn't particularly high risk, was I? It was clear to me that she hadn't even bothered to read my notes. But by this time, it was too late anyway. They strapped a fetal heart monitor to my tummy, and timed the contractions. There was no doubt, the baby was coming, and soon (really? Blow me!).

I started pushing, or what I thought was pushing. The midwives seemed to be ok with it, so I carried on. The baby was making little progress. Her heartbeat was also dropping when it should not have been. The midwives looked worried.

The husband turned up and the scene that greeted him on arrival was a little bit worrying. His wife covered in blood and shattered from being up all night in labour, shouting at the midwives for being not very good at their job. The midwives panicking because the baby seemed in distress. The doctor was called, but she was busy stitching up drunks in A&E. Fantastic. Then the husband sat down before he passed out.

The doctor arrived in time. She spoke to the midwives, looked at me and elbowed the midwives out of the way. I'm sure she muttered 'FFS' or something under her breath to the midwives, but it could have been my imagination. She told me how to push properly. The midwives said 'Come on, you've done this once before!' to which I replied something along the lines of 'I was a c-section before you dumb feckers!!' Stunned silence all round.

The doctor was fabulous. She injected an anaesthetic, made 'the cut', and with one big push, assistance from a venteouse, and a lot of gas and air, my gorgeous, perfect little baby girl was born, and put straight onto me. She was almost 8lbs and gorgeous, just like the first one. The sun came up and through the window, and the birds starting singing. A few contractions and an injection later, and the after-birth painlessly followed. At 7am, only 6 hours after arriving and being told I wasn't in labour, I was a mother for a second time.

The baby didn't cry. Not once. Not like the first baby. They wrapped her up and put her in the crib next to me while they dealt with the aftermath, I unable to move, and unable to see my new baby because I had taken my glasses off. The panic set in. I couldn't even see if she was breathing. I ordered the hubby from my side and made him sit with the baby so she wouldn't be alone. This was complete and utter panic that I have never felt before, and haven't since. It was horrid.

Afterwards

Once the doctor was done, I got myself cleaned up and then the breakfast trolley came round, thank goodness. Lots of toast and biscuits later, and I was transferred to the ward. I slept for what felt like hours. We had a relatively peaceful day, but I got told off for co-sleeping with the baby on the night. Naughty me!

This time round I was brimming with confidence. I was a million miles from the quivering wreck I had been only three-and-a-half years earlier. The midwife, however, had other ideas. The baby had decided she only wanted to feed from one side. I knew it was because my other side needed more stimulation. The midwife insisted on trying to hand express from my 'unproductive' side for me. This wasn't the most dignified few minutes of my life. I knew from experience that this sort of situation was not conducive to producing milk, especially with the catering lady popping her head round the curtain just at that moment to see if I wanted some lunch. I told the midwife to get the hell off me, and discharge me so I could go home and sort this out myself. I had fed one baby successfully, and had a breast pump, and could relax better at home. She was not convinced. I told her I would put the baby on a bottle instead if that's what it took to get us both home. I was lying, but she was making me say it, damn her! Anyway, a few words were exchanged and she agreed to discharge us. Again, we were the last ones out that day, but it was a great feeling.

So my VBAC was stressful because of the slack attitude of the midwife team at the hospital who could not even be bothered to read my notes properly, and did not take my labour seriously. The consultants were great though, as was the doctor at the birth. I was lucky as the baby was not happy during delivery but it could have been so much worse.

The recovery period was just as long as the previous c-section, because of the cut made to me. And I kept having to have my stitches checked, which wasn't the most glamorous of activities. On the positive side, I only had to spend one night in the hospital.

Having a VBAC meant I was keeping my options open, which I did. There is one more birth story to tell, and this next one would be doubly-scary.

To read other peoples' birth stories, visit Actually Mummy by clicking the image below

Twins at 10 months old

2011-12-03T19:45:00.000Z

My baby non identical twins are now ten months old. It's soon going to be their first Christmas. We should be really, doubly excited but in all honesty, we've just been too busy. We've all had sickness bugs and, yes as per usual, we've all got our hands very full. Here's how the twins are doing at the moment.

Teeth

They still have two teeth each. That's it. No more since the six-month mark.

Food and drink.

They eat a wide variety of food. Their favourite are steamed vegetables they can eat with their hands, like cauliflower or broccoli florets, diced squash, sliced carrots. They love sliced, plain ham. They eat lumps of mashed potato with their hands. For breakfast they like the Heinz baby porridge mixes, and some buttered toast.

They are getting bored of jar food and we only give them this when they are feeling a bit poorly, although they are happy to be fed the pudding varieties (go figure). They love fromage frais yoghurts, and chunks of banana. They are starting to have an appreciation for chocolate. Good girls.

They have 4 or 5oz of formula milk three or four times a day. They have one when they get up before breakfast, one or two during the day, one at bedtime. Sometimes they have one in the middle of the night.

Mobility

Oh, holy Jesus! This is where the twins have made the most progress. At 8 months old, only twin two could crawl forward. Now they both can. They chase each other round the floor, laughing and trying to tickle each other. They can pull themselves up on the sofa, the tv, the shelf unit, everything. They pulled the small shelf unit over between them a couple of weeks ago. Everything has now been moved up a couple of feet, the stair gates are on, and the older two have been warned not to leave any of their small toys around.

Twin two can not only pull herself up one-handed, but she can also let go and stand independently for about 10 seconds before she has to lower herself to the ground. Twin one can do this but for a lot less time. She's not far behind though. Both twins cruise comfortably along the sofa at speed. They can climb up on the kiddy armchair and throw themselves over the top, landing in a heap on the other side. They think this is hilarious.

Another thing they do is refusing to be sat down. When I put them into their high chairs, or their car seats, they go all stiff and refuse to bend in the middle. This is just a phase, I know, but when it takes twice as long to do anything anyway, it's another frustration.

It takes ages just to change one nappy because as soon as I let go to get a wipe, they roll over and crawl away, laughing.

Speech and Communication

They babble away independently, though they don't chat away to each other so much. They tend to 'talk' alongside each other instead, taking it in turns like they are playing Baaaaaahhh! tennis. Each turn it gets louder and louder until one shouts so loud, the other takes a fright and starts crying.

They also 'sing', which is making a lengthy daaaaaaaaaaa sound. They do this in unison, usually while in their pram, or in the car.

They can both clap their hands. For twin one this is old-hat now, and she no longer does it on request. Twin two has never done it on request. I think she is just being uncooperative rather than ignorant. They can both wave and will make a token effort to raise their hand when anyone says 'bye-bye' to them.

Sleep

They go to bed at around 7.30pm and are ready for it by then. They usually go straight to sleep. They (usually) sleep solid until 6am at least, though sometimes, especially recently when they have been poorly, wake around midnight for some milk. They will settle back down again with a dummy. Usually.

They nap at least twice during the day, usually from around 10am to 11am, and then from 2pm to around 3pm.

They do have their individual personalities but they are also changing all the time. Twin one is a diva and has little tantrums if we take something off her she really wants. Twin two is more laid back and just goes with the flow, but she usually initiates the chasing games. All-in-all I am very pleased with their progress. Thay had their 'under one year' review recently and the health visitor was impressed too, espeically as they are a couple of months off being a year yet.

If you like this, I blog regularly on the subject of my twins, as well as other random stuff. You can subscribe to this blog by email using the link on the right, and you can visit my 'twins, twins, twins!' page with links to relevant posts. If you find this post useful, please leave a comment below. I love them.

Birth Story: The Emergency Caesarean Section

2011-11-29T22:02:00.000Z

To view other people's birth stories, visit Actually Mummy by clicking on the image above.

This is the story of my first 'birth'. This birth ended up being an emergency Cesarean section (c-section). According to the latest statistics (ooh, I do love a good table with some stats in it), one in ten births end up being emergency c-sections. This is the story of how I ended being a 1-in-10. It's a long story, but for all those considering a c-section out of choice, please read on.

I never intended to be a statistic. I always hoped I'd go into hospital, squeeze baby out without too much permanent damage and job would be a good 'un. Not exactly candles and whale music type of birth but with as little intervention and drugs as possible. I'm pretty good with pain and I've always been athletic and fairly healthy, so 'the plan' wasn't foolishly optimistic. There was no reason at all why this could not happen.

A few weeks before the due date, I was found to have gestational diabetes. No cake, chocolate or fizzy drinks until after baby was born. It was the longest six weeks of my life. My GP, who had done pretty much all of my ante-natal check ups said I could no longer go the midwife-led birth centre as planned, and now needed to go to the hell-hole maternity unit at the hospital, mainly in case I needed to be monitored. D'oh!

The next few weeks passed uneventfully. My sister-in-law tried making me a sugar free chocolate cake. It was bloody horrible. I decided to ride it out, much to the chagrin of my caffeine and sugar addicted nervous system.

Don't worry, we're getting to the business end soon.

On the morning I went into natural labour, two days before my due date, my partner (as he was then) was in another county on a job interview. It was a job he really wanted. I called him and told him I was going to the hospital with my sister-in-law but that he wasn't to rush back. In fact, I told him if he came back early and sacrificed the chance of getting his dream job, I would never speak to him again. Besides, it could be hours before anything happened.

I rang the hospital to tell them I was coming in. They didn't sound convinced of my labour. But I was convinced, and so was my sister-in-law, so we told them we were coming anyway. They referred me to the ante-natal day clinic. They made it quite clear they didn't want me clogging up the delivery ward with my inconvenient, imaginary contractions.

So me and my sister-in-law (and her two young children) had a gentle drive up to the hospital. Me strapped to a tens machine I hired off the internet, contracting every five minutes or so. As soon as I walked into the day clinic, the midwife took one look at me and put me into a side room. After an internal examination, she tutted loudly, grabbed the phone and told delivery room in no uncertain terms that she was sending me up. I was 4cm dilated already. She told me not to be so brave and shout loudly if I wanted attention, and not to take no for an answer from 'them upstairs'. She demanded they send a wheel chair too, just to make sure I wasn't doubted again.

Anyway, my sister-in-law wasn't allowed to stay (because of the young children with us), so she rang my mum, who said she couldn't come because she was working. I had visions of me doing this alone, but it didn't matter to me. After all, as long as the baby arrived safely, that would do for me. So I sat alone (well, walked around a lot) in the delivery room, waiting to be at least 7cm dilated so I could get into the birthing pool. Then my Mum turned up. With my Nan. Chuffing brilliant. They had brought sandwiches and a flask. Typical.

I asked when I would be monitored for blood sugar levels, with me having gestational diabetes and all that. The midwife replied that they don't do that any more as routine and that I should tell them if I started to 'feel a bit whoozy'. Yes, it's true.

Are you still with me?

After increasing contractions, and more pain, I decided enough was enough. I called for the midwife, and demanded an examination so I could get into the pool and get things under way. She wasn't keen, but I pointed out I was 4cm when I arrived three hours ago, and while I wasn't Carol Vorderman, I'd say it was highly likely I could be 7cm by now. So she did the examination, and did it a bit more, and a bit more. Then she went quiet and said there could be a problem. She rang for a doctor. My heart stopped. It was the longest three minutes of my life.

So I decided to open my gob and just ask what she thought the problem was, not sure I really wanted to know the answer. 'Oh', she said ' I think baby is just fine. I think he might be upside down though. The doctor will know what to do.'

But the doctor did not turn up. The phone rang and the midwife answered. She put it down again. The doctor apparently, would not be coming. I however, was to go down to the ante-natal clinic to assess babies position. So I was taken downstairs with a midwifery assistant (and my Mum) to sit in a waiting room with lots of young, anxious pregnant women waiting for their routine scans. I was told to take off the Tens machine so it didn't interfere with the scanning equipment. And my God, did the contractions start hurting then. I was crying in pain and writhing in agony. The poor women in the waiting room started to pale. I think one of the teenage ones may have started to cry.

I was next in. The baby was indeed in the breech position. The sonographer rang the midwife, the midwife rang the theatre and within 15 minutes of me being taken down to be scanned, I was back up on the delivery ward, signing forms and being prepped. My Mum was very excited. They let her wear scrubs. They were blue. She felt very important. I however, was now feeling quite small and helpless. The decision over what type of birth I was going to have had been taken completely out of my hands. I, and my unborn baby, were now in the hands of the theatre team. I actually was quite calm about it. The doctor was fantastic and really put me at ease, which was a complete contrast to the (non)confidence the midwifery team had filled me with.

The theatre team was quite numerous. I still don't know to this day how many people were in there with me - I'd say it was over a dozen. I had the big needle in my back, and the iodine thingy applied to my tummy. One big cut and a few tugs later and out popped my perfect but rather grumpy, baby girl! She was 8lbs exactly.

They did the checks, stitched me back up, and gave me a clean, plump baby. She was perfect. I did not expect a girl. I always though I would have boys, if any at all. The midwifery student dressed my baby - in the blue babygro I had brought in with me. Then right on cue, my other half's face appeared at the window. He was panting, having ran all the way from the train station. He looked in a worse state than I did.

Stay with me, now!

I had to have a catheter. We were moved in to the recovery room, where I stayed until very late at night. I was transferred to a regular ward at about midnight. My other half was sent home. He was shattered.

I'd like to say that the worst bit of having an emergency c-section was over, but it wasn't. For two days afterwards I had the worst pains you can ever imagine. The labour was nothing compared to this. When you have major abdominal surgery, like a c-section, you can get packets of air built up inside you. When this air tries to escape, it goes to your joints, like your shoulder, or hip. I couldn't sit, I couldn't stand, I couldn't walk. I was bouncing off the walls. I had to have morphine which could have been detrimental to the breast-feeding I had planned on doing. It wasn't, thankfully. The pains subsided after a couple of days, though I still felt them from time to time for weeks and months afterwards. But the midwives didn't explain this all properly at the time and I was very anxious about what was causing the pain. I refused all pills because I thought the pain was a side-effect, which of course, made things worse. I do think that a lot of time and effort would be saved by the NHS if they made the staff explain things properly to the patients (but that's another blog post for another day).

Once those pains had died down, and I managed to get comfortable enough to get some sleep, then the rest of the pains became noticeable. I couldn't sit up because of my now chopped up stomach muscles. I had to lift the baby using my arm muscles only, which is not an easy task even considering how teeny newborn babies are. This was fine while I had the catheter in, and the baby was only a few hours old because I didn't need to get up for the toilet, and the midwives would take the baby for a bit if she cried. Once the morphine wore off (and I wasn't allowed any more, dammit), and the catheter was out, me and baby were on our own.

The worst thing about a c-section is that you inevitably end up being in hospital longer than you could be. It was a very long four days, and I did well to get out then. I was so relieved when they let me escape. It was late at night and I was the last one that day to be released into the wild (so to speak), but it was a wonderful feeling.

The recovery afterwards wasn't too bad. My community midwife said I really shouldn't do very much at all for at least 12 weeks - 12!! Was she serious? She was asking me to live out in the sticks with naff all to do, a new baby to entertain and not to drive anywhere. Needless to say, I ignored her after about four weeks, and it was all fine. I had to keep getting my scar checked up with my GP, but otherwise there were no issues.

Would I have an emergency c-section again? As it would turn out, I haven't. But I do have two more birth stories to tell. Stay tuned.

((Ignore this technical bit QZK7GDGB6GYX ))

My new project - Parenting on the Front Line

2011-11-29T10:00:00.000Z

This is a massive plug, apologies.

I have been blogging now for a few months. I love it. When I started a blog I didn't even know about the existence of other parent bloggers, or the whole blogging community thing. I just got on with it because I felt it was something I would enjoy. I discovered Twitter, then BritMums, then Mumsnet and that was just the start.

A few months later and I am well and truly part of the community. I have blogging chums. I get excited about a new blog post I am creating. I get a thrill from seeing my words published on the web, even if I know that I hit the publish button myself. Parenting is my first priority but whenever we do something funny, or special, or different I am already composing the blog post in my head.

So I am very excited to have created a brand new blog.

Parenting on the Front Line is a fun, light-hearted, military-themed blog for parents. It is a blog for parents who sometimes feel that parenting is nothing more than one battle after another. I have created it in partnership with other parents who feel the same way, and we are proud to host a space where we can share our parenting victories and defeats.

We want this blog to be as interactive as possible. We welcome guest posts with links back to our blog. We welcome anonymous blog posts too. We want all your stories that inspire other parents to parenting success, or help them understand that parenting failures are nothing to be ashamed of. There will be two linkys a week - one for victories which will run from each Monday, and one for fails which will run from each Friday. I would love to see you over there some time. Please come and link up. We promise that we will visit and offer words of support, or celebration. We might get you some new readers too.

I know that so many other bloggers offer linkys and memes and the choice can sometimes be overwhelming, so I would be grateful if you would come and at least take a look and see if you would like to take part. Please get in touch with me directly, or through the new blog.

Thank you!!!!

All I want for Christmas is.........

2011-11-28T14:45:00.001Z

.....not very much, and I will be super grateful to get it. I want to have a nice, boring family Christmas.

At the moment, I'm not even sure if Christmas is going to happen here this year. Usually the Christmas fairy is all prepared by now. I usually have a nice pile of wrapped gifts waiting in the spare room. She is usually itching to get the tree up. This year, the Christmas fairy has obviously been busy elsewhere as nothing, I repeat nothing, has been done. With only a few sleeps left til Christmas, I'm not even sure that the fairy is going to make an appearance in time to make things happen, and I am too busy to find out where she's gone instead. I hope she shows up sometime soon. If she's over at yours, please send her to me ASAP.

But, to be honest, it doesn't matter if you don't. If we don't have any presents, turkey, tree, cards, or sprouts it's really not a disaster. I refuse to stress myself out over one day. I have enough to worry about. The world will not stop turning because Trouble Towers has a less-than-perfect Christmas day. Because at the end of the day, all the little extras, all the spending, and all the worry does not matter. What I want is a good day for us, as a family.

This year's (I hope) will be a lot different to the last one. This time last year our beloved Nan was in hospital struggling with cancer. My Mum and Dad did nothing but sleep, work, and go to the hospital for about two months. Their Christmas day comprised of them coming here in the morning, watching the girls open their presents, grab a quick lunch and then go off up to the hospital. The hospital couldn't get themselves organised for my Nan to come home for Christmas, so she spent her last one on a ward surrounded by equally sick and distressed ladies. The saddest thing was that not everyone on the ward got a family visit on Christmas day. My Nan was one of the lucky ones, if you like.

On Boxing Day, we took the girls to the hospital to visit Nan. We were never sure if the latest visit would be our last. It wasn't the most pleasant Boxing Day our little family will ever have. Our Christmas last year comprised of fleeting visits with family and not much else, and although we tried to keep everything as normal as possible for the girls, every time the phone rang we feared the worst. As it happens, Nan did come out from the hospital and spent her last few weeks at home with her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren visiting as much as we all could.

So this year, I would like a boring Christmas please, not just for me but for my Mum and Dad. I don't care if the turkey is burnt, if we run out of cranberry sauce, if we fail to get extra presents for unexpected visitors, or if we all end up arguing over what we are going to watch on the telly. In fact, I crave banality and I crave normality. I pray that no-one has to spend Christmas away from their loved ones, in hospital or otherwise. For me, the perfect Christmas is to have everyone at home as normal. That'll do for me.

Review: Lawn croquet set

2011-11-27T21:11:00.001Z

I have been sent a lovely lawn croquet set by Big Game Hunters, which we love. We have a huge bit of lawn in the garden and adore having new things to play with. A croquet set makes us feel a little bit posher too!

This set has got four mallets of different colours (red, black, blue, and yellow) each with a matching ball. There are six hoops, and a winning post. It all comes in a zip-up bag with a long carry handle so you can take it off with you to the local aristocrat's garden party.

The clubs are really sturdy and big enough for grown-ups, yet not too cumbersome for children. My seven year old managed to play really well without struggling. I can see us getting hours of pleasure from this as croquet is a game you can play whether it is sunny or dull, and it even withstands the wind, which is a real plus point in our part of the world.

The only thing which would improve this kit is the inclusion of a sheet explaining the basic rules. Other than that, it's good to go.

If you would like to own your own croquet set and feel really posh, just like us, please visit Big Game Hunters

The blogging award with conditions......

2011-11-25T21:38:00.001Z

Look what I got!

Thank you to butwhymummywhy and Here Come the Girls for giving me this award. I heartily accept it and as a condition I have to reveal seven secret things about myself, then tag 15 more unwitting bloggers to carry on the torch until it burns out like the last damp firework in the box. Anyway.....seven things. Erm.....

1) I will one day be on The Apprentice, and mark my words, I will win.

2) I have an inexplicable urge to take up roller-derby. I think I may have a death wish.

3) I am a stats geek. I'm the worst person to watch Deal or No Deal with.

4) I like to make out like I'm highly cultured, yet I know exactly what is happening in Coronation Street and Emmerdale right now.

5) I am not the most girly of girls (see number 2). I live in combat pants or tracky bottoms. I know my alternators from my cam-belts. I can put up shelves like Handy frickin Andy.

6) I was a majorette for about three months. I hated it. Too many other girls. I went to Brownies instead. Still girls, but fewer of them, and less girly.

7) Despite all this manliness, I still cry at the end of Toy Story 3. Then again, who doesn't?

So now I pass on this honour to -

Barras Home School of Excellence

Blue Bear Wood

Wendy K

Rollercoaster Mum

Sara at T'is the Life

Managing the Mayhem

Jennifer's Little World

Older Mum

Mummy Plum

Mummy is a Gadget Geek

Comfy Slippers Little Nippers

Mayfair Mum

La Mujer Libre

Mama, you talk?

Nobody said it was easy

Our pets at home

2011-11-25T10:00:00.000Z

The subject of a dog has again been brought up by our seven year old. She is desperate for a dog. We live in the kind of place where everyone has a dog. Dog walkers pass our front windows morning, noon and night. They are nice dogs. Well behaved and whose owners have the decency to clean up after them. But we are not convinced. Me and the hubby are not dog people. We have never owned a dog, nor have any of our immediate families. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I had one. Cats, I understand a little. Dogs, no.

So cute. How could you resist?

We have always kept guinea pigs. I love them. They are easy to look after, and have the cutest little squeak. They are perfect pets for young children as they are so good natured and rarely bite. At the moment we have one guinea pig. She's a bit lonely as her friend died last year, but we visit her every day and sometimes she comes out to play with the girls, though she seems ~~relieved~~ happy to be put away again afterwards. She lives in a run with a sheltered sleeping area in the garden through the summer, and goes into a hutch in the garage overnight in the winter. The girls love her.

We also have a hamster who lives in a cage in the playroom. Hamsters are cute enough but a bit rubbish. Ours has got wise to our routine and waits until we have all gone to bed before he ventures out of his little house. He sleeps most of the time, coming out only to eat and to make as much noise as possible.

Inevitably, me and Dad end up doing most of the animal care. Dad looks after the guinea pig, I look after the hamster. The girls like skipping outside with the odd carrot, or making the hamster beg for raisins but the general cleaning and health checks are done by me and Dad, which is the main reason we have for not letting Trouble One get a dog. We know that it will be down to us to look after it, once she gets bored of it pooing on the floor, or it ignores her every attempt at getting it to 'lie-down' or 'twirl' like the pixellated dogs on her video games.

When she grows up, Trouble One wants to be a vet, unless it turns out that you have to pay a lot of money to learn to be one, then she wants to be a dog groomer instead. Or just a dog walker. Anything with a dog. In fact, yesterday she told me she is going to be a rich and famous dog-groomer so she can afford a great big house in the country, like Sarah Beeny.

Trouble Two however is petrified of almost all animals. She has a mortal fear of all things dog. Passing one on the street I have to hold her hand and give her lots of warning of the upcoming dog being walked. If one takes her by surprise she has been known to run off in a random direction, sometimes into the road, to get away from it. It scares the hell out of me. We have done what we can to re-assure her that she does not need to be scared of dogs, especially ones on leads being walked by their seemingly considerate owner, but it doesn't seem to be getting any easier for her. She turns down invitations to her friends' houses for tea if she knows they have a dog.

So we remain pretty much the only young family in our village without a dog, and it will remain that way for a long time yet. We might look at getting some more guinea pigs though they keep dying on us and upsetting the girls. I think the pixellated dog on the games consoles are the way to go for now. Much more predictable and far easier to look after.

Want to hear more about the happenings in our house? You can subscribe my email or RSS feed (top right). Thank you. :)

Tips for a successful kids party

2011-11-23T14:37:00.000Z

Now having girls of 7 and 4 who go to a small, close-knit village school in a fairly affluent middle-class area (yeah, it's true, figure that one out), we go to a LOT of kid's parties. I have a love/hate relationship with kids' parties. My girls love them, even the really crap ones. I don't mind some of them. The better ones, for me, are the ones where other mums go that I get on with, we can let the kids go crazy while we sit and have a natter. We have also hosted several parties of our own, including ones at soft-plays, swimming parties, and tea-parties at home.

If you are planning your own children's party, here are some of my pieces of pearly wisdom for success.

Planning

Look to unusual places for parties. One of the best ones we went to was an ice-skating party at our local rink. Don't be afraid to do something, or go somewhere out of the ordinary.

If you really want to sort the men from the boys, have a swimming party. We love swimming but other parents don't and will make all sorts of excuses why they can't come, especially if they have to swim too for supervision. Their loss.

Get lots of help from relatives and friends. It's hard doing it all yourself, especially on the day. This is important if you have younger children to look after too, as well as trying to sort the party and it's little guests.

Make sure you put an RSVP on each invite and give the parents several options for getting in touch. I always find putting my mobile number on so parents can text me is a good idea. Make it clear that they must RSVP as the spaces are limited and you would like to be able to invite other children if their child can't come. Harsh but, in my experience, a lot easier for planning purposes. This is especially important where you pay per child, like if you have a party at a soft-play area. It saves a whole lot of bitching in the playground come Monday morning.

Games

Don't expect the children to enjoy playing complicated party games, especially the younger ones. Games that require children to be 'out', like 'musical statues' can lead to anarchy. Young children don't understand why they are out and the games go on for ages until someone passes out through exhaustion. Usually the adult trying to control it all. Stick to games like pass the parcel. And under no circumstances, do not leave an incompetent older sibling in charge of the games. That is just asking for trouble.

Pass the parcel is much less painful if you don't plan on specific prizes for specific children. If a child doesn't turn up, or you cock the music up, what is supposed to be a very simple game can become very stressful. Do you want to be the one to prise the parcel from the sweaty fingers of a screaming three-year old because the music-monitor stopped it on the wrong child? I wouldn't. Kids at a party with their eye on the prize are like angry bulldogs. Put your hands in if you dare.

Decoration and atmosphere

Don't go overboard on decorations. They are really expensive and honestly, kids don't really even notice whether they are there or not. Just buy a shed-load of balloons and let them loose.

Party music should be appropriate to the age of the children. While you don't have to play Bob the Builder on a loop, avoid songs with risque lyrics or from sleazy artists. I hate it when my kids are subjected to songs which are inappropriate. Steps is probably safe, or SClub7. Rhianna may be less so. Definitely no Prodigy!

Food and provisions

Food is a sticky area, literally. Unless you're having the party over a mealtime, like between 11am and 1pm, or 4pm to 6pm, you don't really need to do much more than provide snacks. If you are providing a full-on meal, then do what you are comfortable with. Kids eat a lot less than we expect. As long as you have a selection of sandwiches, veggie sticks, and buns, everything else is a bonus. Measure out a typical meal per child, and then multiply it up to get the total amount of food you will need. If you spend more than about £3 per child on the food, then you've probably gone a little overboard. Even better, get one of those parties where the food is included, like chicken nuggets or pizza - job done!

Don't forget to do drinks too, like squash. You should avoid fizzy drinks for the very young ones. You will also need to provide the drinks before the food is served, especially if the party involves enthusiastic dancing or playing.

Party bags can be a minefield. Do one per child who has been invited. Don't feel obliged to do one for extras that tag along, like older siblings of the guest. Include some small toys, a balloon for them to blow up, bubbles (if you are feeling brave) and a few chocolate treats. Don't put loads of jelly sweets in. Mine never eat them, and I don't know many children that do. Don't go overboard on buying special party-bag toys. Not only are they expensive, but they get thrown away almost immediately. Give things like bobbles and hair clips, or dinky cars. Look out for this type of small toy in bargain buckets and put them away in readiness. DO NOT include noisy toys, like kazoos or cheap plastic whistles, unless you don't actually want the guest's parents to speak to you ever again - assuming they haven't crashed in fright after said guest has found the lovely toy during the car-ride home. If you put noisy toys in your children's party bags, then I despise you already.

After all of this you are probably thinking that children's parties are a nightmare. In my experience, despite all the things I've said above, my children have enjoyed all of the parties they have been to and we are grateful to have been invited to them. The best piece of advice I can give to anyone planning a small child's birthday party for the first time is relax. What's the worst that can happen? Don't spend too much as children don't notice whether you've spent £50 or £500, and don't let them drag on too much and it'll be just fine. But if you put noisy, annoying toys in our party bag, you can keep it thank you!

Review: Hexagonal wooden sandpit

2011-11-17T10:56:00.001Z

The lovely people at Big Game Hunters have sent us a hexagonal wooden sandpit to review, and I must say I am very impressed.

The wooden sandpit is approximately 4 feet in width, and 12 inches in height. It is very easy to put together. Troubles' Dad did it in about five minutes without the instructions, although instructions are included if you need them.

The sandpit comes flat-packed in a box and you slot the pre-cut wooden slats together, put some more wooden slats on the top and screw them down (screws supplied) and you're done. The sandpit comes with a liner for the sand, and also a cover. It looks very sturdy, and the finish on the wood is lovely.

The first thing that struck me about the sandpit is how big it is. I was really pleasantly surprised. It is much bigger than other wooden sandpits I have seen and I'm sure I will have no problems getting both the twins in together and them still have room to actually do some digging.

We are looking forward to the spring when we can get out there and get playing! Thank you to Big Game Hunters for what will be a fantastic 1st birthday present for the twins. If you would like to buy your own hexagonal sandpit, then visit Big Game Hunters at http://www.gardengames.co.uk/ or click this link.

I give thanks for......

2011-11-16T14:43:00.000Z

.....my husband.

I know! Despite all the man-bashing I do regularly on this blog, and I spare my husband none of it, I am grateful for him and all he is to us.

I first met Troubles' Dad when we were both teenagers. We have been together ever since. We have never wavered and though we have grown into our own people, we have never grown apart.

Me and my man. Sort of.

You could say I chose well and I have a lot to thank myself for. I didn't throw myself at the first male who came along, unlike too many of my classmates. Not exactly saving myself for Mr Right, but certainly making sure I wasn't wasting my time on the undeserving. I was unobtainable to all but the very best of males, but Troubles' Dad tried his luck anyway, and my instincts said he was worth a punt. Seventeen years later and he's still on trial, but it looks like I'm stuck with him now. Four years ago we got married.

I have heard too many other womens' horror stories. How they have suffered at the hands of their partner, or how their partner has promised them the world and abandoned them all too soon. I am thankful that I can identify very little with such women. I can sympathise, but understanding what they have been through, or are still going through, is fortunately, not down to experience on my part. We have had arguments certainly, and none more so than since we became parents, but I have never once feared that he would walk out that door, or worse.

Troubles' Dad is a grafter. He works long shifts on a stupid rota in a job that is well-paid, but hazardous. We pray every day that his career is as event-free as possible, and though he sometimes gets a downer on his job, he gets out of bed every day, sometimes as early as 4am to make sure that we all have enough money to eat, buy clothes and have all the little luxuries we can afford.

He is the best help a wife could want. On his days off, he gets up with all the girls at least once so that I can catch up on much needed sleep. He does more than his fair share of the everyday stuff like the laundry, and the washing up. He is at the supermarket right now.

He is a complete pain in the arse too. His inability to prioritise winds me up a treat. His penny-pinching is legendary. But then I suppose I'm not perfect either, and God knows he's put up with enough from me. Like when I decided to sell our first house and move nearer to London for my job. Or when I bought our next house while he was on holiday with his friends. Good job he liked it really. He supported me when I decided I wasn't going to work any more and I would go back to studying full-time. With no income. And don't get me started on his tolerance of my all-too-often slightly potty family.

His future as my husband requires him not only putting up with me for some time to come, but also living in a house full of females. Others joke to him about how he's never going to be able to get in the bathroom, or how much it's going to cost him for all those weddings. but he never seems fazed by any of it. If we do want rid of him, we are going to have to all work much harder than we seem to be doing at present.

So, while I may slag Troubles' Dad off a treat on this 'ere blog, really I am thankful that he is about. Our family life is based on our partnership, and neither of us would be the same without the other. I am thankful that I chose wisely, and that my faith in my own instincts paid off. He still doesn't know about this blog, so I'll have to tell him the only way I can - by making him put up with me for a few more years, at least.

Secret Squirreling

2011-11-14T10:54:00.000Z

As you know blog readers, I like to do my blogging under a pseudonym. I know, its hard to believe that Troubles' Mum isn't actually my real name, and that there is a human face behind those purple footprints, albeit a rather more wrinkly and haggered one than a few years ago (about seven to be precise). What you might not know is that not even my husband knows about 'the blog'. How do I get away with it, you ask?

Well, Troubles' Dad (aka 'the hubby') works shifts. I blog when he is at work on late shift, so my posting tends to be a bit erratic. I will do a post a day for six days in a row, and then nothing for a while. I sometimes get away with a bit of blogging when he is here. He's not that IT-savvy really bless him. I can be sitting on the laptop with the screen hidden from him and just say 'I'm on Twitter' and he glazes over enough for me to do a bit of tip-tapping. He hasn't a clue, though I am careful to wipe the browsing history when I'm done, just to make sure.

We have been together for 17 years now and we have never kept any secrets from each other, ever, so I don't know why I keep the blog a secret from him. I think because he isn't that IT-savvy, he is a bit unsure of the whole blogging thing. He would probably think that something bad would happen to us because I blog and I'm not sure what I could say that would allay his fears without telling him about the blog. He has heard of parent blogs, and he has a downer on them. He says that mum-blogs are only there so we can discuss shopping, periods and dieting, which is a little incorrect. We talk about other stuff too, and a lot of it is really helpful and I feel, discussing our collective fears and ups and downs of parenting makes us all better parents. Anyway, I digress (again).

The reason I am telling you this is because recently I have been offered some stuff to review. A nice consequence of blogging is that if someone likes your blog enough and you have an army (however small) of readers, then companies offer you things for free in return for you to do them a little write up with a link back. I don't mind doing this at all. We get some good stuff, and the company gets what it needs in terms of promoting itself online. Win/Win. I am not here to talk about the whole blogger/blagger debate, which I think is well covered elsewhere.

The thing is when stuff starts turning up, what do I tell the husband? I mean, some of the stuff I could hide if it was small enough, and it is delivered when he is out. However, as he works shifts I can't guarantee he won't be here when the van comes, and some of the stuff I have been offered to review is quite big.

I have told him that I have been accepted onto the reviewing panel of a baby and toddler website (feasible) and that companies send out stuff to us for free at random (feasible) to take some photos of and tell others on the website forums how much we like it so other parents using the forums will buy it too (feasible). So far, I have got away with it. I got away with it for the only product so far I have officially reviewed, so I am keeping up the story for any more I get.

Our latest product is sat in a rather large box in the hall.

'Wow', said the hubby 'It's a wonder they can afford to send us such great things for just a few words and a pic on a forum'

'I know', said me 'Amazing, isn't it?'

Give that girl an Oscar! I really should put him straight and say it's for space on my blog, but ho hum......

This weekend is the start of the husband's run of days off. He will spend some time on one of those days off assembling the product so I can take the 'required' photos, and ask him all sorts of questions about how he found it to assemble, and whether, as a dad, he would recommend it to others 'on the forums'.

Then I will go ahead and write my rather more time-consuming review on my blog and poor hubby will be none the wiser. I will feel terribly guilty watching him assemble it, knowing that he really is in ignorant bliss of all the sometimes rather too honest outpourings I mercilessly flog to you, my readers. I really should tell him the truth and let him decide whether he should have to assemble things for me, or whether I should indeed, do it myself. I haven't the heart to tell him that yet more things are coming later today.........

I could just not review stuff, but then the blog would continue anyway, so I suppose I'm still hiding the truth. Oooh, it's all such a quandary!

So, if you are a secret squirrel blogger, how do you get away with it? All tips welcome.

Top five special things about multiples.

2011-11-12T15:30:00.000Z

I have been tagged by Karen at Tales of a Twin Mum to talk to you about my very own 'Five special things about multiples'.

My twins are non-ID girls, now aged nine months. They are crawling about all over the place, usually in separate directions. They are starting to take an interest in walking. Well, they can bloody well stop it. Anyway, I digress. Here is my contribution on the theme of special things about having twins.

1) I love the way one can fall asleep while the other is screaming only 12" away. How the hell does this happen? I think this means that they are naturally un-perturbed by anything and will grow up to be tolerant and self-reliant, laid-back individuals. Either that, or at least one of them is deaf.

2) They are a really great, cheap exercise system. I spend most of the day trying to retrieve crawling babies from rooms they are not supposed to be in. Then I have to go and get the other one. And then the first one has made another bid for freedom. And so on.

3) You can mess with peoples' heads. Others joke about twin-mums having a favourite. If you can keep a straight face long enough, you can convince people that actually you do have a favourite and that you are thinking of selling 'the uglier one' on E-Bay. This is only a positive if you have a twisted sense of humour. But I do, so all good.

4) There is no arguing among my older children. When each of them wants to play with the baby - we have one for each of them. I tell the older two I only had twins so they didn't have to share.

5) They will always be each other's best friend. Yesterday, I put them both down so I could go and warm up their milk. Twin one was a bit tetchy and sobbed as I left the room. By the time I'd come back, twin two had cheered her up by laughing at her and trying to play. Twin one was laughing along with twin two by the time I got back in the room. Proper belly-laughing, with chuckles and everything. I hope this continues and they are still laughing with each other at a ripe old age.

So that's it. Five special things about multiples. There are many more positives and other twin mums will probably cheat and add some more in (I'm looking at you over there at Here Come the Girls!), but I will stick at five or I'll never stop. Thank you to Karen for this kick up the backside and bringing out my bright side for a change.

Shit I say over and over and over again

2011-11-11T21:17:00.000Z

Don't you think that some days you could easily get sick of your own damn voice? I know I do, regularly. I find myself saying the same stuff over and over and over and over......... (you get the idea), so thought I'd treat you all to a select few things I find myself repeating on an almost daily basis. How many of these do you say too?

1) FFS, get your bloody thumb out of your mouth, again.

2) Please can you sit on your bottom with your legs under the table.

3) Put. The baby. Down.

4) Hat, shoes, coat, gloves, and scarf. NOW!

5) Stop rolling about and go to bloody sleep.

6) FFS, why do you have to wait until you are in your highchair before you fill your nappy?

7) You were at school for over 6 hours, how can you have done 'nothing'?

8) Yes you do like carrots, please eat them.

9) Haven't we seen this episode of Phineas and Ferb / Ben and Holly / Peppa Pig already?

10) Because that's what the school wants you to wear, that's why.

11) Yeah, well I want Brad to leave Angelina and declare his undying love for me, but it's not going to happen is it?

12) No, we are not getting a frickin dog.

13) JUST SHUT UP!!!!

14) No, the hamster is not dead. He is nocturnal.

15) Put your shoes in the box then you'll know where they are tomorrow.

16) Please shut the toilet door. The entire street do not need to see you do your widdle.

17) Just lay still. You are going to get poo everywhere.

18) So *sigh*, why were you put on the naughty step, again?

19) Yes, that's FANTASTIC darling! What is it?

20) Keep walking forward. No, that's forward, that way.

21) You are never going to marry a prince if you do that at the dining table!

22) It'll drop off, trust me.

23) Why, why, why, why, why, why, why oh why me?

Etc etc...........

I do feel like a broken record some days. What about you? What things do you find yourself saying over and over again?

Housekeeping - Trouble Towers style

2011-11-10T11:58:00.001Z

I'm well known among my friends and family as someone who doesn't exactly brim with enthusiasm when faced with the task of keeping my house in tip-top show home condition. I would rather watch the TV or fart around on Twitter than spend my time scrubbing and dusting. And I would rather do anything at all than iron. So, I hear you say, how do I keep my home looking like it's straight from the pages of a glossy magazine? Well mostly, I don't. Here are my top tips, nay philosophies, on keeping a lovely home in spite the rabble of children living within it......

1 - When your feet stick to the floor in the kitchen, its time to start thinking about getting the mop out. To increase the time that passes between moppings, use a plastic sheet under the food collection hot-spots, like under the high-chairs.

2 - Get a window cleaner. A few quid every other week or month is money well spent as far as I'm concerned. On his first visit, my window cleaner said my windows were the dirtiest he'd ever seen. I asked him if that meant we deserved a blue plaque for the outside of our house. He didn't look impressed. In our defence, I'd spent pretty much every day since we finished our rather messy and dusty extension pregnant with the twins. And at least I knew I was getting our money's worth, which always pleases the husband.

3 - Always keep a clean downstairs loo with plenty of loo-roll, soap and a clean towel. Your visitors will be mightily impressed, even if the rest of your house is a dump.

4 - Stop ironing and spend the time on something else instead. Unless you have a job that relies on having super smooth clothing, do you really need to iron? I haven't ironed a whole garment for years. I once told all the mums at playgroup this fact and they were genuinely shocked. They admitted they hadn't noticed that my clothes were particularly creased more than the next persons. So say balls to it, and relegate the iron to the back of the cupboard.

The perfect housekeeper. Just like me!

5 - Be organised. If there is a place for everything it's easier to keep on top of the clutter. Think vertically and get loads of shelves and bookcases. I love those plastic tubs with lids for all the kids toys. Don't get clear ones though or you can see all the contents and you can't use them for hiding all your own junk in an emergency.

6 - Sick of seeing all that dust on the TV when the sun streams through the windows? There is a quick fix available for this - shut the blinds. Done.

7 - Get sofas with washable, removable covers. A god-send in our house.

8 - Have a husband with a hatred of clutter. Mine spends loads of time chucking stuff out which saves tidying it all up I suppose. Sometimes I find that something I wanted to keep has mysteriously disappeared but at least the house is that little bit emptier. If you find this too much of a wrench, encourage your husband to channel his enthusiasm into other areas, like washing up or doing the laundry.

9 - Train the children to help. My eldest is bloody hopeless. She hates any sort of work. However, Trouble two (4 year old) is marvellous. She loves helping. She can sweep the kitchen, empty the wet washing into the tumble dryer, wipe the dining table, and dust the low-down shelves. She even does it for free, though I don't think this will last forever.

10 - Stop worrying and start living. You can have a clean and tidy house when all the children have grown up. As long as no-one gets ill with food poisoning, and you don't lose the baby under a pile of books, then what's the harm?

I hope you find these tips useful and informative. I also hope that you don't think any less of me now that my reputation as a perfect wife and mother has been blown out of the water. I also hope that if you decide to come and visit, you give me plenty of warning. Much appreciated.

End of an era

2011-11-09T13:46:00.002Z

I have been tagged by @SpoonfulOfVodka herself in her brand new meme, especially written to celebrate/commemorate the end of her teenage years.

The theme is this - What were your dreams or ambitions when you were 20 years old? Which of these have you actually got around to acheiving?

Answer the question in any way you feel you can, then tag at least 3 other people and pass it on.

What I wanted to do when I was 20.

I turned 20 in 1997 amid a wash of Brit pop and grunge. I wore hideously large glasses, but had quite good hair. I was with the bloke who now claims to be Troubles' Dad. We were living in our respective parental homes, and working in full-time jobs. We went on holiday to Spain, Diana the Princess of Wales popped her clogs, and everyone lived happily ever after.

What did I want from my future?

Well the first thing was we wanted to buy our own home together, which we acheived that very same year. I also wanted to eventually live in a great big house in the middle of nowhere and have lots of chickens and things. We moved into our great big family-sized 'forever' house in 2002, but it's not quite in the middle of nowhere, although we did have some chickens for a bit. There's only so many eggs you can eat though, so we cooked the chickens for tea (no, not really, but you believed it for a split-second, admit it).

I also wanted to do well enough at my job that someone in London would hire me for a bit. I did do well at my job and in 2000, at the age of 23 I was head-hunted to go 'darn 'sarf' although we only made it as far as Hertfordshire. But I got to spend a couple of years on the outskirts of my favourite city and bash around it for a bit feeling very cosmopolitan and trendy, before we decided to come back 'oop north.

Not going to university at 18 like a lot of my college friends, I had one eye on going back at some point. I did this at the age of 26, and it was probably the best thing I ever did. I now have a BA (hons) degree of the first-class variety, and I acheived my masters degree earlier this year, at the age of 34.

At 20, one thing was very clear. I was not going to be stuck at home with four children while my husband had the career. On that point, I acheived this up until the age of 27 when I had the first child. Then a few years later, when I decided to be at home full-time, I had 'not' acheived this good and proper. Big fat fail! I'm not complaining, I love being home for all my girls, but my 20 year old self would have been appalled and ran off screaming.

Apart from that, I didn't really have any ambitions per se. I have never really got round to deciding what I want to do when I grow up, and probably never will. I will see where the rest of my life takes me, try lots of different things, and not stress about what I haven't got round to doing yet.
I tag @1978rebecca @multiplemummy and @mammasaurusblog

How my life has changed this year.

2011-11-07T21:46:00.000Z

This post is inspired by the BritMums blogging prompt - Changes~what major (or minor) changes have happened to you this year that have made a difference in your life?

This time last year I was pregnant with twins. I was writing up my masters degree thesis and hoping to get it finished with no amends before I had to go into hospital to give birth. Prior to this I had been bashing around the country doing the requisite field work, and prior to that I had been a busy working-mum of two little girls.

This year has been a funny one for all of us. My Mum and Dad had to move house after running into some financial problems. Trouble two started at big school, albeit part-time. My beloved Nan, the matriarchal head of our rather boisterous family got very sick and left us all with a gaping hole. We have all had to make adaptations to our routine, and get used to people not being around any more.

In February 2011, I gave birth to our twins. Immediately, life slowed down. The babies are healthy and were a 'good' weight. We stayed at the hospital for two nights and then we were out and on our own, with the help of Dad and the two big sisters obviously!

We spent the first few days not even leaving the house. Nan got to say hello to the twins on the day we left hospital, but the rest of the time we spent bedding-in, and trying to recover from the birth. We went absolutely nowhere for about two weeks. I'm not even sure if I went into the garden at all during that time. We had lots of visitors, which was fab because I couldn't even muster the energy to walk to anyone else's house.

The twins have made such a difference to my life. Apart from the fact that I love and adore them, obviously, I really have had to adapt to a slower pace of life. I think this has made me more relaxed and a better parent. not that I wasn't a good parent before, but sometimes trying to juggle working full-time and have a succesful family life took it's toll. I enjoyed working, but now I have mentally accepted that being a stay-at-home-mum is for the best right now, life has become much easier and more enjoyable.

I do think that had I only had one more baby, the temptation to return to work would've been too strong and I would've gone back to the everyday battle of trying to 'have it all'. Having twins, and in essence four children all under seven, means that it's not worth working. The twins have made me slow down and prioritise my days, and think more about what is best for us as a family. I enjoy the new babies more because I'm not wishing their time away so I can get off maternity leave and back into work.

I have also changed in other peoples' eyes. In the community, I have gone from being the crazy woman who shows up at the village school every now and again in a whirlwind, to being the ever-present earth-mother, supermum type. Crazy people ask my advice on things, like having twins suddenly makes you some sort of parenting oracle, which is a bit weird. I quite enjoy it really. Sometimes I'm honest with them and try and help them. Sometimes I play with their minds. Depends on what mood I'm in. Or how much sleep I've had.

So there you have it - twins. It's a pretty big step for any family and they will forever be our defining moment of 2011.

Music therapy

2011-11-06T21:49:00.002Z

The fantastic Real Housewife of Suffolk County has tagged me in a fab meme which originated over at MAD Blog Winner Mammywoo's blog.
Mammywoo explained how music played such a big part in her life. Have a read of what she had to say about it.

Our mission, if we choose to accept is:

If you would like to have a go, just pick;
3 beautiful songs.
3 different bands.
3 sets of lyrics that touch you in anyway you want to show.

My taste in music is eclectic to say the least. I love folk-punk, ska, and cheesy pop. I can't get R&B, I don't like Soul, and dance music drives me insane. Choosing my three songs for this meme took a few days, and a few sessions of 'sleeping-on-it'. I have finally arrived at these. Enjoy!

One Way - The Levellers

I love The Levellers. They are one of the only acts I have seen live more than once. They dress like Swampy, have an Irish folk feel about them, and originate from Sussex. They incorporate a copious amount of didgeridoo into their songs, which can only be a good thing surely? I love songs which talk of life. Songs don't always have to be about love.

One Way is an ode to saying that you don't have to mentally accept 'the system' even though you may be a compliant part of it. You can quietly get on with your life, having dreams of a different way of doing things. You can be an anarchist at heart yet be play a humble, noble part in wider society. Listening to One Way, indeed many other songs by The Levellers makes me feel content to conform (for now anyway) because I know that I'm not the only one who, from time to time, yearns for something different.

There's only one way of life
And that's your own your own your own

My father when I was younger
Took me up on to the hill
That looks down on the city smog
And above the factory spill
He said now this is where I come
When I wanted to be free
but he never was in his lifetime
But these words stuck with me hey

If you like your Irish folk crossed with punk, I heartily recommend both their eponymous album 'The Levellers' and 'Levelling the Land'. Just don't listen to 'Battle of the Beanfield' too much or you'll be living on a commune in North Wales, wearing coloured braids in your hair before the year is out.

You learn - Alanis Morissette

Any song off Alanis's Jagged Little Pill album reminds me of my angry teenage phase. I didn't do goth very well, but I was a brilliant 'grung-er'. I loved bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam, but my favourite was Alanis.

'You learn' is a song about life. We all make mistakes and life throws bad stuff at us, but what separates the clever people from everyone else is the ability to learn from it and see it as part of life, rather than a challenge or an obstacle.

I recommend biting off more then you can chew to anyone
I certainly do
I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time
Feel free
Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind)
Hold it up (to the rays)
You wait and see when the smoke clears

You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn

I love listening to Alanis. She reminds me of my youth, and makes me happy.

Waiting for a Star to Fall - Boy Meets Girl

I had to delete Common People by Pulp to get this song in, which tears me in two but I have to admit that despite all my anarchic tendencies, I love very uncool, cheesy 80s pop. I love Boy Meets Girl and I don't know why, I just do. Me and Trouble Two dance to this song round the kitchen, while the twins shout at us from their high-chairs. Its very uncool, but I'm old enough now not to care.

I hear your name whispered on the wind
It's a sound that makes me cry
I hear a song blow again and again
Through my mind and I don't know why
I wish I didn't feel so strong about you
Like happiness and love revolve around you

So that's it. That's me in three songs.

I tag @MallorcaMum @CornishTwinMum @SpoonfulofVodka