twinversations IV

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Florence Willow, 11 months

I bumped into my neighbor as I got into our apartment block lift. He's an eccentric old fellow, slightly reminiscent of father Christmas with his rotund belly and large beard.

Neighbor: How are the girls?
Me (with a baby on each hip): They are doing really well thanks.
Neighbor (to the girls): Well I hope you stop teething soon so your crying stops waking your mother up at night
Me: !!!

#passiveaggressivemuch?

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Wednesday, July 23, 2014


A portrait of my babes once a week in 2014 (51 weeks)

In the week leading up to your first birthday I've been thinking abut how you make time speed up. It is because every moment is full. Babies make you live in the present. The now. The newness of it. The busyness of it. Daily projects are short term - change two babies, feed lunch to two babies, bath two babies, get two babies dressed - within the grand life work of bringing up children. The future is palatable every day, a glimpse of the girl Anna will become from a photograph I snapped, the walking phase from Florence's standing practice. It accelerates time. I try and hold on as I can't fight the instant nostalgia that envelopes me as I now have to breathe in really deeply to smell catch that baby smell that's probably more in my mind than on dewy skin. Yet, at the same time I am delighting in the new now. The new present and the wonders that this day, at this stage, in this season bring.

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Tuesday, July 15, 2014



A portrait of my babes once a week in 2014 (50 weeks) - Florence Willow (top) and Anna Clementine (bottom)

The dimples on your chubby baby hands in place of knuckles. Little thumbs that are oddly grown-up. The soft valleys of the back of your necks. Padded flat feet. Ice-cream twirls of belly buttons. Soft down wisps of hair. The longest eyelashes which lengthen when glistening wet with recent tears. Eyelids that give in to sleep. The gentlest touch of hands against my breast as you feed. The twirling of my hair in your fingers. Florence's crinkled nose that finishes off her smile and Anna's lips pursed with eagerness. The weight of you in my arms - that wonderful baby weight. Oh and the sound of your laugh. It's these little things which full me with wonder. 

Twinversations III

Thursday, July 10, 2014

 Me, in said white pants

It is not unusual for people to stop and offer help as I am getting my twin pram (affectionately referred to as the ship) out of my car. At times this task involves me climbing into the boot, removing three large pieces of equipment, assembling the pram all the while keeping the babes happy as they're still strapped up in their car seats. So when a woman approached me in the parking lot of Hyde Park shopping centre the other day, I naturally presumed she was about to offer some help.

Woman: Excuse me, I can see you're busy with that whole... baby thing... and what-not
Me (to myself): Oh sweet, she is offering to help
Woman: But I just have to ask you where you got your white pants. They are perfect.

#priorities

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Tuesday, July 8, 2014

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2014 (49 weeks)

I have two sisters and they really are my best friends. I am so happy that these two sisters have each other. 

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Tuesday, July 1, 2014

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2014 (48 weeks)

Bath time with you twinklets. Silky smooth baby bare bodies lathered in creamy, chubby fingers reaching into the tub with delight as the lotion oozes through clenched fists. Legs kicking excitedly in anticipation as we dip you into warm water and place you in your bath rings, facing each other, twenty toes mixed together, four legs entwined, backs scrubbed, faces wiped, teeth brushed. You're lifted out, warm skin wrapped in fluffy white towels. Each one of you to one of us. A baby per parent as the bed time duties are performed. Nursing, dressing, reading, singing, cradling. Sleeping. The same routine every evening but somehow never mundane.

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Tuesday, June 24, 2014


A portrait of my babes once a week in 2014 (47 weeks)

You're high-fiving and clapping hands. You know where your head is, where my nose is and you stretch your hands up in the air when we say "armies up". Florence, you practice standing all day - you hold on, find your balance and let go then look at us with the proudest smile on your face. Anna, you love being tickled and will lie perfectly still while I trace imaginary shapes over your cheeks and down your tiny body and across your little legs. You both have a head of the softest goose down hair which I can get lost stroking as you drift off in my arms. Seven teeth for Anna and still only the bottom two for Florence, although those top two are trying their hardest to come through. With this baby mixture of gums and teeth you enjoy all sorts of real food from slices of cheese, to gooseberries, biltong, carrot juice sipped through a straw, scrambled eggs and guavas. You dance to music and chat all day long with wolf cub howls (Anna) and gurgling brook noises (Florence). You love your baths, sitting face-to-face, negotiating rubber ducks and other members of your bath toy menagerie. You particularly like your teeth being brushed by an electric tooth brush, and wiggling your hands in cups of cool water. You are playful and happy and full of laughter. Florence you love playing peek-a-boo with whatever object you come across from a nappy to your high chair tray. Every other object becomes a phone and is whipped up to your ear as you listen intently to an imaginary conversation. Anna, you love being chased and delight in the anticipation of surprise. Oh my little ones, how much those big hearts of yours love the life you lead, which expands each day.
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