“Welcome to the Madhouse”,
is how I commonly greet visitors for, in recent years, our abode has
become just that.
Where once I took
pride in my house-keeping skills and aesthetically-placed décor, my world has
since been flip-turned upside down.
What happened? We had
kids. Three of them in less than as many years.
Master Cadeyn made his
appearance in 2006 and, after what seemed like an eternity but, on the scale of
things clearly wasn’t, nearly two years later we learned we were having
another. It was at a routine scan when the sonographer dropped the bombshell
that, actually, there were two in there.
Although I’d joked
about having twins it was lucky I was lying down at this point because, as I
looked up at the screen, there they were – two 12-week foetuses kicking around clear
as day.
I rang my husband who
was working out in the wops at the time. He thought I was joking and laughed
heartily. When I finally convinced him that I wasn’t kidding about having to
move house because we were having twins, he almost toppled off his ladder.
As recession had hit,
moving house was out so over the next six months a mad frenzy of renovating
ensued.
We decided to find out
the sexes this time because I wanted to know whether I was in for a house-lot
of boys. When we found out it was a boy and a girl I realised I had my little
ballet dancer so our family would be complete.
As my stomach expanded,
a fair amount of frolicking was taking place within. It seemed a tangle of
limbs was jabbing me from every which angle and I assumed it was the boy
pushing the girl around. However, upon meeting my feisty little redhead I don’t
doubt she was holding her own.
It turned out the girl
was lying breech and transverse – therefore blocking the exit – so an elective caesarean
was booked.
The day before,
however, we were in for a shock when one last scan showed that, where the girl
(which had been 99 per cent confirmed) had always been positioned throughout
the pregnancy, there was now a willy.
Momentarily gutted I
thought of the pink things I’d allowed myself to buy. However, the girl was
found huddled on the other side. We could only conclude that they had somehow
somersaulted and switched sides (something meant to be nigh on impossible).
So everything went
smoothly and the next morning we met 5Ib8oz Jayla and 6Ib Jai (pronounced Jye).
Within half an hour
the nurses had me tandem feeding while I looked down… and from side to side… at
these tiny suckling creatures, dumbstruck.
Several hours later
Cade was to meet them. We’d prepared for this moment by telling him each baby
had a train for him so when he walked into the room, I fully expected him to
demand his gifts. Instead he made a beeline for the cot and, hopping up on a
stool, pressed his nose against the glass and stared in awe at his new baby
brother and sister. Someone kindly took a photo of this moment and it is
something I will cherish for today things are a quite different.
Picture this: I’m
standing at the stove trying to cook dinner for three hungry kids hovering at
my feet. Cade wants me to fix the wheel of his train and is relentless with his
demand. “Not now,” I inform him. “Just let me finish cooking dinner.”
His fury reaches a
crescendo until, unfortunately his brother bore the brunt. Jai subsequently
loses the plot. That’s two down and I’m very near breaking point. Jayla, who
until this point has been watching on in amusement from the corner, decides
she’d like a piece of the action so, in slow motion, throws herself off her
stool ensuring to bump her head on impact. Now the three of them are howling
down the house with me shrieking amongst it, while casting tentative glances
out the window to make sure the neighbour isn’t on the way over to check my
sanity.
With dinner brewing I
have no choice but to ignore this carry on and concentrate on dishing up.
Finally meals are on
the table and peace is restored.
At this point in walks
hubby having missed the furor. He is greeted by three happy kids while I stand
there still taking deep breaths.
Welcome to my world.
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