Tech and Toddlers

Alright, I have to jump in now. Particularly as I definitely have a dog in this fight (disturbing as that metaphor is).

As evidenced by the fact that I'm currently on my laptop blogging (as I listen to a podcast playing Just A Minute from BBC's Radio 4), I'm definitely in the camp of people who have a positive attitude towards technology. I have a laptop, we have a desktop, I have a smartphone, and at Christmas we bought a tablet. And guess what? Horror of horrors, I let my 2 1/2-year-old son play with some of these things. He watches Toy Story and Cars on our home computers, I've loaded up episodes of Sarah & Duck on long car trips when Ethan gets bored and irritable, and he has his own user on the tablet to play puzzle games.

So, when I saw this nonsense on the Huffington Post, I had to take a look. To be frank: it's scaremongering. It's reactionary, misleading, and - while well-intentioned - not helpful. I seriously side-eye anyone whose academic rigor is so lacking that they can reductively blame modern technology use, wholesale, for delayed development, epidemic obesity, sleep deprivation, and mental illness. All of those things are much more complex issues than Cris Rowan made them sound in her article. Not to mention, she didn't even make a good case for a causal relationship between heightened technology use by children and any of these conditions. Thankfully, the HuffPo gave airtime to another article which addressed a lot of these points. (Incidentally, most of their rebuttals boil down to Rowan's repeated confusion of correlation and causation and ignoring third-party issues in order to make a stronger case.)

To indulge in a bit of anecdotal evidence: I remember as a kid when we got our first PC. It was a Commodore 64, and I must have been about 6 years old when my dad first set it up on our first floor landing outside of my parents' bedroom. A short time later - after a few games of Jet Boot Jack - the Commodore died and we got a Compaq Presario. My sister and I played all sorts of games on it (including my favourite PC game ever), most of which - if I'm being fair - weren't overtly educational. Sure, I learned how to type properly with that computer: I learned to use the Microsoft Office Suite back when most computers still ran Windows 3.1 (feel old yet?). I learned how to surf the internet and use a search engine on that computer, but mostly it felt like a toy. When I was 14 or 15, my grandfather bought me a Gateway and I did my summer AP assignments on it. I learned to navigate the infancy of social media: chat rooms, MySpace, and AIM. I never realised until later that my years of typing, chatting, surfing, pointing, and clicking had given me useful skills for the workplace and for keeping up meaningful relationships with friends and family half a world away.

And yet, I still got outside, climbed trees, rode bikes, rollerbladed around the car park pretending to be a drive-thru waitress with my best friend, held footraces down our close, and developed the best pitching arm of all the kids on our street...even including the boys in little league. While I never got to keep my tech in my room (beyond my stereo, that is), I never had restrictions on its usage. My mother saw me use it for play and for school. I still did my homework, practised my music, and kept up a healthy social life.

I expect that my boys will be able to do the same. Sure, they're much more inundated with advanced electronics and technology from an earlier age than I was, but that doesn't automatically mean that they're doomed to be obese, lethargic, attention deficit, violent addicts. To suggest a ban on these technologies is irresponsible. Does my son need his own tablet? No. He's two. That's why he only has occasional use of the family device. But should I be restricting all watching of Disney DVDs and CBeebies on iPlayer? No. He needs to be taught responsible consumption of media from an early age. Being allowed small portions of fun things - while it may bring on tantrums when it's time to put toys or tablet away - will help him to mature and learn. He'll learn what my rules are. He'll learn that every activity has its place. He'll learn that throwing a tantrum won't get him what he wants and that disappointment is a part of life that we all deal with.

But do you know what else my sons will learn from being trained on technology from a young age? They'll learn how to do research; something that their historian mother knows is an invaluable skill for school, university, and life beyond. They'll learn STEM skills (science, technology, engineering, maths). With a mechanical engineer for a father - someone who is himself a STEM ambassador at work - we'd be remiss if we kept them from being able to easily develop the sort of skills my husband uses every day in his job. They'll be technologically literate, which is so important; but here's the thing: it won't be at the sacrifice of their social, emotional, physical, or mental development.

Unless you want to move onto a commune or join an Amish community, there's little escape from technology these days. Yes: it's always good to take the time to unplug and unwind, but an outright ban just tilts the ship too far in the other direction. For every stereotype of children using smartphones at the dinner table, or parents distractedly yelling at children while playing Angry Birds or checking Facebook, or overweight children parked on the sofa with cheese puffs and Call of Duty, there are responsible people. People who teach their children limits, as well as technological prowess. Who see smartphones, iPods, tablets, and PCs for what they ought to be: tools to navigate life in the modern world rather than crutches or babysitters.

The real key is to teach balance. To teach healthy respect for handheld tech as a tool: something that makes our lives easier...not something that is our life. Rowan's ostrich-like attitude, her reactionary totalitarian tactic - the ban - isn't helping anyone. It's not helping the children who need to be exposed to technology to learn how to navigate the world around them, and it's not helping the adults who need to be taught healthy limits and self-regulation. And if we're saying that these people who use the TV to babysit their children, or who can't tear themselves away from Candy Crush Saga long enough to be an engaged parent are exactly the reason Rowan calls for a ban, then guess what? Big Brother hand-holding, draconian restrictions, and fearmongering aren't the way to improve them as people.

Of course there will always be people who have the requisite personality and skills to overcome a generational divide in technology adoption, but why bet on your child having the ability to jump an unnecessary hurdle? Teach computer skills and responsible media consumption in the same way that you teach them how to read, how to share, or how to show good manners: early and often.

Stylish Little Men: Elias and Grace

So it's been absolutely ages since I did one of my Stylish Little Men posts. With two little men to dress now, I thought it was time to bring it back; especially when I spotted the cute duds at Elias and Grace - courtesy of a blog post on Babyccino Kids.

I will say this, though: this particular edition is more of a mood board than anything else. Don't get me wrong - it's adorable stuff! But when you can spend £30 on a pair of baby leggings (WTF?) and £80 on a toddler's jumper, it's time to admit that the prices have no basis in reality. I haven't spent £80 on a jumper for me! Let alone someone who will outgrow it in 6-months and get wee, porridge, vomit, and Nutella on it in the meantime.

1) A t-shirt and jean shorts is always a good way to go. Stain-friendly and low-maintenance without looking babyish.
2) Oh look! It's the £80 jumper and a pair of jeans. Seriously. If I'm paying £80 for a jumper for my toddler, I want it to wash itself, and perhaps be made of mithril so it never wears through or snags on the car seat clips or swings at the playground. At least the Breton stripe is a good place to start, style-wise.
3) Olive khaki is a brilliant colour for a coat. It's the sort of piece that means that even when your kid does decide to dress themselves, they never have to look like they dressed themselves.
4) A button-down cardigan is a great piece. And, provided it's not a filthy day at the playground, it can be dressed up or down for just about any sort of day out.
5) Striped t-shirts are lovely, and putting the stripes on a diagonal on the breast pocket is a nice touch.
6) When it comes to the littler boys, a side-button onesie is a great idea. For sick days and doctor's trips, having the option to get them undressed without having to fight to get things over a sweet little melon-head is great. Plus, with leggings, all but the most explosive of nappy changes can be accomplished without sacrificing an entire outfit.

For now, though, I'm back to finishing Hot Fuzz before walking the boys to the health visitors' clinic and a trip to the playground.

Mommy Mondays: Changing Weather

Thanks to my mother-in-law, I got a lovely day off last week to do some shopping for myself while she looked after the boys.

The only new item here is the skirt. With the weather finally shaping up to be nice again, it felt good to pick up a few things. The skirt is an H&M basic, so it was only about £7 in the end. H&M is brilliant for inexpensive basics like the stretchy skirt, tank tops, cardigans, and leggings. Also, it's the best place I've found over here for jeans - both normal and maternity. Usually jeans shopping is a pain, but knowing now that H&M have cuts that fit my shape makes the whole thing a breeze.

It's been fun lately trying on new looks with my chambray top. I'd been meaning to get one for ages. It's a brilliant neutral to mix & match with different things. I like the idea of dressing it up with the skirt for family things at church or a date night. I'll have to see both of those pieces in other outfits as the weather keeps improving. Especially as we have a get-away planned with my parents to the coast!

Some Thoughts on Vaccinations

In general over the past few years, and more frequently in recent weeks, I've seen plenty of articles in my Twitter and Facebook feeds about various facets of the anti-vaccination campaign and its consequences; it's proponents, detractors, and controversies. Now, considering that I took my lovely 9-week old boy to get his first round of vaccinations earlier this week at our GP's office, it's pretty damn obvious where I stand in regards to all this nonsense. But, without name-calling or vitriol, I want to spell out my position and the reasons behind it.

To start with a fairly inflammatory statement on purpose: if your kids aren't vaccinated, don't expect them to play with my boys. This has nothing to do with me crucifying your character based on one decision you make for your family. I'm a parent too: I get the very natural impulse to reduce risk for your children. You love them. You want the best for them. But here's the thing: the diseases we're vaccinating against are so much worse than the temporary discomfort of an injection, a slight post-immunisation fever, or the slim possibility of complications. We as a society have lost sight of just how awful diseases like mumps, measles, and rubella are precisely because we've been so effectively protected against them for so long by vaccines and the resultant herd immunity they give us.

If your kid is one of the few who is likely to suffer ill effects, by all means, take the advice of people who have been trained in this understanding of the world around us and skip the vaccines. But for those who are simply exercising their right to disagree & do their own poor research...I'm not exposing my kids to the risk of disease because you want to conscientiously object to science. Thanks. It's a bit like a seatbelt, in my opinion: you put it on every time and hope against hope that you never experience a car crash where you need to use it. Likewise, I vaccinate my sons and hope that their immunity is never tested by being exposed to someone who actually carries polio or rubella.

I'm not going to enumerate all of the science behind the vaccine debate: other people have done that far better than me - among them Dr. Steven Novella - and so I'd just pass their work along for reference.

NESS - Vaccines Don't Cause Autism

Neurologica: Vaccine Denial Pseudoscience

The Guardian - False Balance

Wikipedia: Vaccine Controversy

Wall Street Journal: Doctors 'Fire' Vaccine Refusers

So yes: a few of the articles I've linked to will resort to words like 'wing-nut' or 'nut job' or 'loon'. Despite their (to me) understandable, but unfortunate choice of words, I think the points still stand.

But why, you may be asking, aren't there any good sources on anti-vaccination? Why nothing from the Natural News or a health & wellness site? Well, for the simple reason that not all evidence is created equal. I'd like to refer to the brilliantly concise site Your Logical Fallacy Is... to pinpoint just some of the problems I often see with the anti-vax argument:

False Cause: otherwise known as "correlation doesn't equal causation", this conflates two independent phenomena. Just because the noticeable signs of autism coincide with the current vaccination schedule, it doesn't mean vaccines cause autism.

Straw Man: misrepresenting one person's argument to make it easier to argue against. This one tends to take the form of a misunderstanding of scientific principles.

Bandwagoning: or the appeal to popularity. In the anti-vaccination articles I've read, this tends to work in the opposite form. It's not your usual, Nancy Reagan style peer pressure scenario: "everyone's doing it, Dave...", but rather: "don't be sheeple! Follow the evidence! If all your friends pumped scary-sounding chemicals and viruses into their children, would you do it, too?" The popularity, or lack of it, for any given position is not a reliable indicator of its truthfulness or validity. The one place where this tends to hold some water, however, is in the consensus opinion of experts in a field. With the caveat that our understanding can always be improved or deepened, if a group of people with in-depth knowledge and extensive study of a subject come to an overwhelmingly similar conclusion, it's not bad practise to give some weight to their collective understanding of reality. (And for the record, 'in-depth knowledge and extensive study' does not mean 4 hours with Dr. Google.)

Genetic Fallacy: assuming something is good or bad depending on who said it. While this happens on both sides - discrediting a given article based on where it appeared (like the Natural News) - it often happens when anti-vaxxers decry any claims made by "science" or "the medical industry" as if these were monolithic entities who all speak with some sort of hive consciousness like a bad sci-fi movie. All claims need to be taken into consideration on the merit of what they say, not just who said them. That said, you should probably trust the word of a medical doctor above my own in a discussion about how the body reacts to vaccines, because biochemistry, immunology, and pharmacology aren't subjects I know anything about. I can armchair diagnose until the cows come home, but it's not my area of expertise. On the other hand, if you want an opinion on Regency fashion and neo-Classicism, you're better off talking to me than, say, the Surgeon General.

There are plenty of other logical fallacies evident on both sides of the debate, but in the end, I'll stick with the overwhelming body of evidence that vaccines do what they say they will and protect us from what were once devastating diseases. I will accept the fact that just because something sounds scary and convoluted and unpronounceable doesn't mean that it's harmful...it's irresponsible of me to require the world to fit into my limited understanding. The better proposition by far is to expand my understanding to encompass the intricacies of the world around me.

To use a good-old-fashioned cliche, "no man is an island, entire of itself". Vaccination isn't just a choice you make for your own family like whether to shop organic or join little league or attend Mass. It's a public health issue, and while I'm far from advocating an Orwellian compulsory vaccination program, credible research and scientific reality shouldn't bend to misinformation, fearmongering, and indignant and misleading rhetoric about rights. Rights aren't the issue here: health and safety are.

As the old saying goes, "the road to Hell is paved with good intentions". And I have no doubt that most parents in the anti-vaccination movement have the best of intentions; but when we're dealing with the health of our children, intentions don't count nearly as much as results. And when the result is a resurgence of horrible and preventable diseases, we need to seriously consider where good intentions have led us. 

Brothers

I know that growing up, my sister and I always got told just how much we looked alike. In our teenage years it was especially annoying...at least to me. I always insisted that it was so easy to see how different we looked. Victoria took after our mom, while I took after our dad. Different builds, different eyebrows, different noses, different mouths...as far as I was concerned it didn't take a genius to see that there was no way anyone should be mistaking us for twins.

Related? Sure. Gorgeous? You betcha. Twins? Nope.

Of course, now that I have two boys, the tendency to compare them is inevitable. From the get-go, everyone has either one of two opinions:
1) Tristan looks just like Ethan, or
2) Tristan looks so different from Ethan.

Personally, I fall into both camps. Day-to-day, seeing them both moving, wriggling, smiling, and crying - they look like the same little person to me. When I feed Tristan, I often flashback to feeding Ethan at the same age. The nose, the shape of the head, the big blue eyes...they all seem astonishingly similar to me. So much so that sometimes I have to remind myself that Tristan is his own little person, and not Ethan 2.0

But in pictures? Well, that's when I have to start leaning the other way...

I see the eyes, the nose, the mouth (my mouth, incidentally...they both got that from me) and that's about where the similarities end. Perhaps part of it is that Tristan has always been fatter in the face than Ethan...partly a product of being a whole pound heavier at birth. Perhaps it's the absence of the awkward Friar Tuck hair that Ethan had for a good 7 months. Certainly, it's partially due to Ethan having my lopsided chin and Tristan inheriting a lovely, manly chin dimple from the Husband's side of the family.

It's so funny to look at them, side-by-side, at almost the same age, and to really appreciate just how different they actually are. Even now, at such young ages, they are most certainly their own distinct people. Ethan is my mellow and affectionate child: he loves hugs and cuddles, he's very self-contained, and - for a toddler, at least - he's been historically fairly taciturn and even-tempered. (Those last two have only started to change very recently!) Tristan, on the other hand, is already much more vocal - both in joy and indignation - than his big brother ever was. Where Ethan would sit in placid silence, Tristan coos and overlaps smile upon gummy smile. Where Ethan would cry, Tristan screams and yells. He likes to be held, but will fall asleep if well-fed and then benignly ignored...Ethan always required rocking or feeding to sleep.

I don't know what other differences will surface as they both grow older and their personalities develop and their understanding of the world around them deepens, but I will say this: already I think I see the start of a beautiful friendship. They remind me of me & Victoria...and that can only be a good thing.

Seriously...

Finding the Good

If Twitter were a person, I'd shake its hand. It's a bit like my town crier: an informant on the goings-on of the outside world. In the age of social media, Twitter is my equivalent of sitting at the kitchen table of a morning with a hot mug of coffee, reading the daily newspaper. Considering I've only read an actual physical newspaper once in the past 6 months, that's sort of a big deal. And it came up in conversation recently.

In an entirely un-serious attempt to out-adult each other last night, my sister and I exchanged exclamations of our grown-up activities, tit for tat:

V: I have a savings account, and a line of credit. I'm going to a freaking RETIREMENT COUNSELING session on Thursday!‏ That's what I do with my days off.‏ I go to financial planning classes.‏

Me: I have two kids and can't sit cross-legged on the floor for as long any more!‏ I found a white hair once...my knees get stiff. I'm no longer fighting acne, but using an under-eye moisturizer at night.‏ I enjoy Twitter because it helps me keep up with current events.

V: I'm getting a subscription to The Economist.‏ And I donate to public radio.‏

Me: I donate to children's hospitals.

V:  I'm taking up quilting.‏ I am OFFICIALLY our mother‏.

Me: ‎Shopping with coupons, sorting the laundry before throwing it in the machine, FOLDING the laundry when it comes out of the dryer.‏

V: I have a banker.‏ I have a banker that I call when I want to do things with my money.‏

Anyway...you get the idea. But here's the thing: that mention of Twitter was legitimate. Sure, I use it to make jokes about being a mum and to post that video of Benedict Cumberbatch on Sesame Street, but I follow people for the interesting news stories. Just take a gander at some of the specimens of human awesomeness I've found thanks to social media:

Rock on, Mr. Muruganantham. I'm inspired. BBC News - The Indian sanitary pad revolutionary http://t.co/b2p6Yhmazt
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) March 5, 2014

Natural Hair vs. Corporate America: Why Are We Still Fighting This Battle? - Page 2 - Style - EBONY http://t.co/FJAQavdrwU
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) March 5, 2014

Sweetest bloody thing EVER. My heart has a special place for people like this. http://t.co/dvDAJtB5wp
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 28, 2014

I do love the things I find to read online. Anyone else found something inspiring or thought-provoking to check out lately?

Vicarious Tourism: A Little Bit of London

In an effort to be more proactive and start doing things as opposed to just talking about doing them, the Husband and I took the boys out to London on Saturday.

It was a brilliant time. E has been absolutely obsessed with Big Ben for a while now, and so - in tribute to this deep and abiding fascination - our first stop after getting off the Tube was to come out and watch the clock chime the hour.

Our timing couldn't have been better, after snagging some free on-street parking thanks to a tip from our sister-in-law, we got to Westminster just in time to get situated on a nice bit of pavement so that E could revel in pointing and shouting about the Big Clock.

After the Big Clock, it was time to head over to Westminster Abbey for a quick look-around. We were fairly sure E wasn't going to stand for enough church-wandering to justify the £18-a-head price tag, so we just went into St Margaret's Church right next door and took a few pictures.

After letting him drop some change in the donation box - a must-do for him anywhere there's a chance to handle money - it was on to bigger and better things: The National Gallery.

The walk took us through St. James's Park and past Horse Guards. Then through the Admiralty Arch and into Trafalgar Square. This is one of the bits of London I know best. During my Master's programme, not only did a few of my classes take place in the National Portrait Gallery - which is also pretty cool - but a lot of this route is how I would walk home from class on nice days. Campus was just over on the Strand and I lived up past Marble Arch...so central London was my neighbourhood.

The Gallery itself didn't go over terribly well. It was right around E's usual nap time, so he was getting a bit angsty after a brief sprint through the rooms with his dad. I, on the other hand, took the time to get Tristan out of his baby carrier and give him a quick feed. Talk about eating in style: grabbing a quick feed on a leather chaise surrounded by Renaissance paintings. Besides: in a Renaissance painting gallery, what's one more exposed nipple?

High brow breastfeeding in @nationalgallery #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) March 1, 2014

With one boy fed, it was time to feed the other, so we headed out of the Gallery on the heels of a tantrum to get some McDonald's. Faces sufficiently stuffed it was off to another well-loved part of London for us: South Kensington.

This is where we met; where the Husband went to school; where we had our first date; where we spent at least part of most weekends together. It's also where we took our engagement photos, which - frighteningly - is now a little over 4 years ago...

We took the boys to the latter of those two locations above - the Science Museum. It was a great time. We let E run around and play, gave Tristan another feed, and had fun enjoying the exhibits and the interactive play area. Seriously: London has some of the best museums I've visited.

After a long day in the city, it was time to head home. So, tired babies in the car, we waved goodbye to the Tube - literally. Ethan had to wave to every passing Tube on our walk back to the car - and headed back on the motorway to home and to bed. It was quite the adventure doing our first trip out with two little boys, but it was definitely worth it. Not sure where we'll go next, but with two family visits coming up in the next month or two, we certainly won't lack for opportunity!

Good Ideas

I always feel gratified when I stumble across a good idea in this world of parenting two little boys. Lately, most of these good ideas come in the form of places to take them that involve lots of running around, time outside, and possibly other people to hand them off to.

Wednesday of last week involved a trip to Farnham for Tristan's hearing test. As Ethan had behaved like a champ the whole time - and since we were 5-minutes' drive away anyway - we made a trip to Farnham Castle. Two hours and lots of running around later, I packed my boys into the car to drive home and enjoy the world that opens up to you when you have all of your children asleep at the same time.

Friday, it was a 1-mile walk to the railway bridge to let E do a bit of trainspotting. About 30 minutes and 8 trains later, we made our way back home via his favourite playground (in other words: the one with a view of the train tracks). After a bit of play and over an hour of very slow walking, he slept like a dream. I'm discovering that these days where I let him run wild and expend a level of energy usually reserved for supernovas are the best days for us all. Sanity is maintained with a baby carrier and fresh air.

Saturday, we had some time out with the in-laws. E had been begging all week for us to take him to see Mimi & Papa, so after coordinating by text, we were able to deliver on the promise to see his grandparents. We went antiquing, fed some geese, and let him run around their house building trains and making Buzz Lightyear shout, "Iffinity aaaaaaaaaaaaabeyond!" It may or may not have been the cutest thing I've seen in a while. Tied for that honour, though, are Tristan's newfound smiles. I'd forgotten when this stage would come: where you as a parent grasp at each gassy grin like a 4-year-old at a Kit Kat.

And now it's time to continue in this new ability to maintain sanity by waking E up and changing T out of a chocolate-stained sleepsuit to go over to West Green House for a while. Running around in some National Trust gardens may not be a castle, but I think it'll go over pretty well. There's a pond and live chickens to harass: for a toddler that's good entertainment!

Mommy Mondays: transitional pieces

So as we keep moving on towards figuring out what our new normal is - and I start getting to the gym and going back to my normal - it's time to start building up my workable wardrobe again. There's not too much I need, but since "normal" is bound to be in flux for us for a while, it's nice to have things that work both now and later. Like tops that allow for breastfeeding, but aren't specifically maternity. Witness:

Sainsbury's has really been revamping their TU clothing line lately. I stopped in the other night after our date to grab some supplies and had to take a peek. Loads of lovely new tops and jeggings; jumpers and dresses. This chambray top has already proved brilliant for feeding Tristan, plus - while I'm still in transition back to my usual size - it's really forgiving of my mummy tummy.

It's nice to know I can be casual and baby-spit-up friendly and still look nice.

Speaking of looking nice, the Husband and I got a date night on Saturday. With the boys both in the care of their grandparents - at E's request...he badgered me all week to go see them - we got the chance to head out into Newbury town centre and have a nice dinner out. We apparently have a thing for Italian food. Our first date was at a place called Carluccio's; our last date before I went back to the States was at Ask; our first anniversary dinner was at Bella Italia...and now our first date since having two kids is back at Ask again. Seriously: it's becoming a trend. Of course, to really do it justice we ought to go to Italy itself. After all; it's not that far away!

Mommy Mondays: Back Again

So it's been a while since I've done a Mommy Monday post. Hey: when your maternity wardrobe consists of about 8 separate pieces of clothing, there's not much to show before it all gets old. Anyway, now that I'm not sporting that whole 'smuggling watermelons' look, it's back to the rest of my wardrobe...slowly, but surely.

First of all: yes, I'm still wearing my maternity jeans. They've held up much better this time, so it's worth getting as much wear out of them as possible before I shed the rest of the baby weight and get back into my normal clothes.

Second of all: I love this cardi. It's brilliant. Despite being a very bright shade of magenta, it's very versatile. And the top from White Stuff is one I got when I was pregnant. The silhouette is great because I could wear it both pregnant and postpartum. Plus, the cowl neck makes for a great pull-down access for breastfeeding. At only 6 weeks out, that's definitely still a high priority.

And as an added note: the watch! For Christmas I finally bought the wanderlust watch from Feral. Such a good decision. I've been wearing it most of the time. It's really silly, but having a wrist watch makes me feel inexplicably grown up.

So, for now, it's time to get back to behaving like a grown-up. I've got laundry to fold, floors to vacuum, and Thank You cards to post. Looks like things are getting back on track!

Life in 140 Characters or Fewer

The old less vs. fewer conundrum. #sticklersunite

In case the title and opening line didn't make it painfully obvious, I've decided that the easiest way to update the blog today is to have a little Twitter crossover. It's been quite a crazy few weeks for us so often, little updates are the best.

Parents like this give the rest of us a bad rep. This is why we can't have nice things! http://t.co/foNxjlhZsI
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) January 30, 2014

Is it me or does burping a baby feel like russian roulette with vomit?
— Charlie N Andy (@HowToBeADad) January 29, 2014

Back in my happy place...the gym! Yes, I'm a bit weird like that.
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 1, 2014

#sarahandduck the first rule of octagon club is that you don't talk about octagon club. (We've done too much telly watching today!) #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 2, 2014

How long is it acceptable to keep your kid in the same pair of pyjamas? And do I get leniency for being in A&E last night? #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 2, 2014

I get stupidly excited to have a lunch where both boys nap so I can use both hands to do things. Some days I greatly envy octopuses.
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 4, 2014

Worst parking job: the lady with a 4-week-old and a toddler who has just announced a need to find a toilet. And yes, that was me. #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 4, 2014

I have seen my life reflected back at me and I am Tom Hiddleston. I have this exact convo with Ethan EVERY DAY! http://t.co/f6vBrn3pYo
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 4, 2014

Crying baby in the car? Play Mika at deafening volume...who knew T was such a fan!? Quieted him in 30 seconds & saved my sanity. #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 11, 2014

'E, use your hands, please. Millions of years of evolutionary energy gave you those hands so you could eat your chips with them.' #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 12, 2014

I question the laws of physics that allow my son to throw up on his own back. Now to wash cheesy milk-vomit off us all... #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 13, 2014

And now to go get my crying baby...who has cried all morning. Thankfully, I have a heart-shaped box of Recee's cups to fuel me through the day. Happy Valentine's Day to me!

Finding A Groove

The second week home with two little boys has been much more calm than the first. Sure, there was the incident where Ethan tried to intubate his brother with the antenna of a LEGO car, but everyone still seems to be alive and in one piece.

Monday was fairly quiet, but on Tuesday we managed to drag ourselves out to the park for a bit. In the interests of donating some old maternity clothes and baby clothes neither of the boys really wore, I decided to get out to the charity shops...which meant a convenient stop for E at the best of the local playgrounds. I could only countenance letting him play for about half an hour, though: it was frigid outside! (And, stellar mother that I am, I forgot to bring his hat & gloves.)

No matter how long it is, he never forgets his love of the roundabout.

Wednesday was play group in the morning followed by the world's longest naps. That meant a Doctor Who marathon for Mama. Also? The cutest cuddling session known to man.

Thursday started early with a family trip to the dentist. Then the afternoon saw us out for a few hours hanging out at the library with our friends and then running a couple of errands that I'd been unintentionally procrastinating for days. The evening meant a lovely night out for me heading to the gym. "Me Time" that's also exercise is great: I can just unplug and listen to music. I don't have to think, I don't have to change anyone's nappy or run anyone to the potty posthaste, I don't even have to maintain conversation about whatever Disney/Pixar movie is currently playing: I can just recharge my batteries and work up a good sweat.

The really hilarious part of Thursday, though, was this:

E decided he needed to take a turn with the breast pump. He proceeded to lift his shirt and shout, "Get milk out! Get milk out!" Today, that progressed to his request to help feed his brother a bottle. Luckily, he was actually really good at it, and Tristan accepted his big brother's inexpert but enthusiastic help like a champ.

With all the rain and freezing cold wind this week today would have been a great day to get outside, but E wasn't having it. So I threw open the windows and did a bit of tidying while the boys played & slept in the living room. I even got a chance to try some Ballet Bootcamp during naptime!

Having a baby takes it out of you! Only half-way through the first of @sweatybetty's #getfit4free ballet bootcamp and my arse is kicked! :)
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 7, 2014

I have to admit, this is feeling pretty good so far. Of course, there are those moments where both kids are crying, or they've both managed to soil themselves, but the good & the manageable moments definitely outweigh the bad & the frantic.

One kid craps himself, necessitating the bath...the other craps himself as he is toweled off AFTER the bath. Of course. #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 5, 2014

And now, to round out the day with a bowl of chili, some TV, and a cuddle on the couch with all three of my boys. It's nice to feel like things are reaching even a tenuous state of equilibrium. Here's to the beginning of our family of four!

A New Normal...Sort Of.

I had wonderful plans of a return to blogging on Friday. I was going to have wonderfully witty and pithy statements about how I managed to make it in-tact through each day: my first week with two little boys.

Monday was great: we didn't do much, but I got some tidying done and the boys were still well-behaved and in one piece. We even got to Starbucks to meet up with friends for a couple of hours. Tuesday went over a treat as well: more cleaning, successful naps, and a whole slew of errands in the morning. Wednesday was play group and a quiet afternoon in. That's when things started going wonky.

Thursday morning I woke up feeling a bit sore. Babies who occasionally sleep through nighttime feeds will do that to you. There's only so much milk a boob can hold, after all. (#keepingitreal) The day wore on, I felt more and more tired...and that soreness wasn't going away. I kept feeding (when Tristan would cooperate), kept pumping; but by the time I had to break out the paracetemol & hot water bottle, and then a fever started setting in, I came to the conclusion that - joy of joys - it was mastitis. Goody.

So I spent the night feeling awful. We limped through the next day with some much-appreciated help from my friend Nikki, - who watched the boys while I napped and settled Ethan for his nap - the Husband, - who came home early - and my GP who prescribed antibiotics. A big shout out also goes to McDonald's. Some days you just need comfort food.

So with most of Friday under my belt, imagine my mood when I realised that E was getting sick, too. He spent the whole night in our bed with a barking cough. Saturday progressed to a fever, more coughing, and lots of wheezy breathing. By Saturday night, I was convinced it was time to call someone to see what else we ought to be doing. Turns out that "what else?" meant a trip to Paediatric A&E and overnight observations. Oh yeah, and hourly sessions with an inhaler. For my two-year-old.

 

How long is it acceptable to keep your kid in the same pair of pyjamas? And do I get leniency for being in A&E last night? #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) February 2, 2014

The Husband stayed in overnight while I headed home with Tristan around 1:00 in the morning in an attempt to get a bit more sleep. Four hours of sleep later at 7:30, I was up and getting dressed to go back to the children's ward of our local hospital to see how my boys were doing.

In the end, it turns out Ethan was having a reaction to a viral infection in his chest. Loads of sessions with the inhalers and nebulizers, a couple of x-rays, numerous pokes with stethoscopes and ear thermometers, and a failed urine sample later we were finally discharged to go home with him. I now have two inhalers and a giant volumizer sitting next to my couch. Every four hours I get to listen to my poor little boy, with his hoarse croaky voice say, "Keep breathing! Keep breathing!" while I attack him with medicine for 90 seconds. It breaks my heart hearing him say that: it's just so pitiful!

So this week we're getting over our rather sensational-sounding bout of illness and attempting to get more towards whatever our new "normal" is going to look like. I have my gym membership back (le sigh, my happy place), and we have a few play dates to make good on. Add that into the mix with the ever-present cleaning that needs doing - oh, and don't forget that I ought to start looking at nursery schools soon! - and I think we've got enough to be getting on with.

In the Space of a Breath

I am tired. And I'm meant to be having a nap. The Husband has just taken both boys off my hands so I can rest after a lovely morning that shouldn't have been stressful at all, but somehow felt it as we got in the car to drive back home.

Daddy & @yasminannephoto getting Tristan ready for another shoot. http://t.co/ZLtXQ4QPnq
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) January 23, 2014

I'm judging the parents who let their kid appear on CBeebies in Crocs. Who let that happen? #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) January 23, 2014

See, my friend Yasmin is a photographer and we got her to do a newborn shoot of our newly finished family of four this morning. She was brilliant: putting on Finding Nemo, pulling out toys and books, letting E have a go outside in the garden; carrying, rocking, and cuddling my littlest boy so he would settle for some cute photos...and then taking all the photos she could of my men and me. I barely had to do anything other than pose, feed E snacks, eat cookies, and be patiently urinated on as I breastfed on the couch. The experience was a lovely one, and I'd do it again, no questions asked...but I suddenly found myself tired and short-tempered as we drove home.

Two weeks and he's already changed so much!

E was asking for sweeties, T was screaming because his binky had fallen out, and rather than fishing in my purse or reaching around in my seat to address either of these concerns, I clenched my hands in my lap and closed my eyes as I tried not to yell at two people who very much did not deserve it.

"Do you want me to stay home this afternoon and take the boys so you can nap?" Oh, sweet lord, yes.

I let out I breath I didn't think I'd been holding and just felt utterly relieved. I wouldn't be wrangling a hungry newborn and a toddler who had missed his nap all by myself! Though he must be as sleep-deficient as I am right now, my husband is a saint. We are technically at the end of his fortnight's worth of paternity leave, but he's accrued enough time to stay with me for another day before heading back into the office. If only I could now not feel guilty about my desire to cry, eat hash browns, and fall asleep watching Sherlock reruns.

So now, covered in milk, milk sick, wee, and tears from my sons, I sit in bed, torn between being so tired I could weep, and wanting to unwind by reading design blogs. I can hear Owen Wilson as Lightning McQueen shilling Rusteeze Medicated Bumper Ointment on the TV in the next room as I look around at the mess in my bedroom. There are clothes and muslins that desperately need washing, presents that need Thank You notes written, junk mail to sort through, and two half-empty packets of paracetemol on the dresser next to a pacifier in its sterilising box. There is dusting to be done, rubbish to be taken out to the skip, carpets to be vacuumed, and post-natal exercises to do. Right now, the knowledge of all these things threatens to drag me under like James Bond falling through a riverbed in the title sequence to Skyfall.

Yasmin and the Husband are a brilliant, baby-posing team

So, for the moment, I will live a fantasy. Two gorgeous Englishmen - tall, pale, dark-haired and blue-eyed - will save me from the utter exhaustion of even the best days of motherhood: my wonderful husband...and Benedict Cumberbatch. Bring on the Sherlock, baby.

The First Few Days

So it's been about 11 days now since we finally got to say hello to our new little boy. The whole thing has been a brilliant experience so far. I have to admit, this whole taking-care-of-a-small-human thing feels a lot easier the second time around. It helps that E is such an affectionate big brother. He always wants to hold and kiss and cuddle and carry his baby brother. The only time this gets to be a problem is when he's convinced that he can carry the baby around the house without any assistance. Yup, I did spend part of the morning chasing the boys around the house, trying to keep my hands around Tristan while Ethan did his level best to wander off with his brother.

So what have we been up to besides changing nappies and chasing little boys?

• A James Bond marathon: Casino Royale, Quantum of Solace, and Skyfall. Complete with pizza, chips, and lots of fizzy drinks.
• A few walks around the neighbourhood: one to the playground and another to relax with a hot cocoa at Costa.
• Rewatching old seasons of The Unit over dinners: sausages & egg fried rice, chicken kievs and creamy potatoes, and frozen pizza. We've been keeping it simple for now.
• One expenditure of actual effort in order to have blueberry pancakes for brunch. Like the most interesting man in the world, I don't always cook breakfast, but when I do it's because I want pancakes.
• Being weirdly fascinated by being able to say things like, "let's take the boys to the playground" or "it's going to take a bit longer to get the kids in the car."
• Catching up on Pinterest, Twitter, and the blogs whenever I have sleeping children.

My latest discovery on that last one? I win Pinterest...at least in the scarf department. My Christmas present to myself was a plaid blanket scarf from Zara, which has been showing up all over Pinterest lately. Just have a look:

via, Street Style Seconds

via, Simply Whit in a Sequined Life

via, exPress-O

For now, though, it's back to those nappies that need changing, babies that need feeding, and the 95th viewing of Finding Nemo. Oh yeah, and these beauties. So glad to have the owner of these baby blues back in the house after visiting his grandparents for the weekend...

I'm Glad It's Your Birthday

It occurred to me that I've almost definitely used another line from The Beatles' Birthday as a post title before. Not that it happens often enough or that enough people read this for it to cause confusion, but still. My overwhelming feeling in writing this is that I am very glad that yesterday was somebody's birthday. Especially after waiting nearly an extra 2 weeks for that to be the case!

So somebody now has a birthday on 9 January. This somebody, to be precise. Tristan Rafe, my lovely, squishy bundle of brand new baby! As for the pertinent stats:
Weight: 8 lbs, 8 oz.
Eyes: blue...for now.
Hair: dark brown...for now.
Looks most like: his big brother, who was a similarly difficult-to-disentangle combination of traits from both of us.
Favourite activity: eating. Like a boss. Seriously: it's all this kid does!
Length of labour: About 54 minutes, give or take.

That last one is the scariest! I do intend to chronicle this birth, especially as it's such a contrast to my first birth experience, but it's going to take me a while to find all the right words. As much as I can look back on the experience now as a positive one, I can honestly say that in the moment that I realised just how little control I had in that whole process, it was the single most frightening moment of my life.

For now, though, I'll take a break from reliving the insane rush of that day and just bask in my chubby, snorting, cuddly little boy...and my wriggly, chatty, not-so-little boy, too!