Often these days, when friends (or, indeed, tradesmen) come to visit me, they might find I’m in my pyjamas feeding a baby. My conversation will not be witty or sparkling, and they may have to make their own tea, but I will be happy to see them.
As you, my reader friend, come to visit me at my blog today, imagine I’m wearing pink flannelette pyjamas with a piece of toast stuck in my hair. My writing may seem a little stilted and bland, but, gosh, I’m glad to see you!
My beautiful twins are now almost eight weeks old. For the most part, I’m enjoying my vacation in Baby Land. We’ve developed a simple routine of feeding and nappies, and lessons and feeding, and feeding and washing, and feeding and feeding. And cuddles. There are always plenty of baby cuddles to go around (though they sometimes come with a side order of baby spew). It’s really rather blissful.
We don’t often leave the house, but when we do, it seems we achieve instant celebrity status. Everybody wants to talk to us and ask us (the same five) questions and tell us about the twins in their life. Most of the time, my extroverted nature revels in the attention, but it can be a real challenge if we’re trying to do something in a hurry.
I’ve decided to christen the girls “Daisy and Poppy” after the mischievous twins in Ben and Holly’s Little Kingdom. Not exactly literary, I know, but it seems to fit. Those of you who don’t have preschoolers in the home may not have heard of Ben and Holly. Those of you who do will have heard far, far too much.
And, now, if you’ll excuse me, Daisy is letting me know my services as a milk maid are urgently required.
Thank you for coming to visit!