General Parenting, Milestones

9 months old!

I’ve had 9 months with these adorable creatures already.

It doesn’t seem all that long ago they were this size.

But it also feels like a lifetime ago. They’ve just fit into this family so perfectly it’s like they’ve always been here.

Such a different experience this time around than it was with Caide. Despite there being two of them it’s been much easier. Is that because I (kinda) knew what I was doing this time round? Is it because I’m on medication for my anxiety and didn’t develop PPD this time? Is it just because they are much easier babies? I’ve no idea, probably a combination of all three.

But I’ve actually been enjoying it.

I went into the 2nd baby thing expecting to simply “get through” the first year. When I found out it was twins I wasn’t sure I was going to even manage that. I’ve certainly not “enjoyed every second” because that’s bullshit, but overall yes.

I’ve enjoyed it.


That pic is terrible quality but I love it.

#day7of30 #30daychallenge


What’s in a Name?

Why “mousy”?

My Gran loves to tell anyone who will listen – repeatedly – about how her beautiful grandaughter with gorgeous blond curls used to run up and down her (low) windowsill calling herself “Mousy Gordon”.

Well that was me.

The curls are gone and my surname has changed but I think “mousy” adequately describes my personality.

Small. Timid. Hides when it’s busy. Comes out when everyone is gone. Not a fan of being out in the open. Scurries when confronted.

Loves cheese.

(Though apparently that’s a myth according to my “how to get rid of mice” googling last week).

(And yes, I literally only just realised the irony of the mousy mummy finding a mouse in her house…)

But anyway. That’s how it started. If anyone was wondering…

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#day6of30 #30daychallenge

Life Events

“There’s a Mouse in this House!” by Daddy

“There’s a mouse in this house,” said Mummy.

“A mouse in this house?” asked Daddy.

“Yes,” said Mummy, “a mouse in this house.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a spider on a hang glider?” asked Daddy. “Or maybe a wind up toy left out by a boy?”

“No,” said Mummy, “there’s a mouse in this house. Look! There it is under that book!”

So Mummy got a trap, and it came in bubble wrap.

Daddy put some nuts in the door and we left it for a day, and then two more.

And one day when Daddy was making a snack, inside the trap was a mouse having a nap.

And Daddy went for a drive in his car. He went very very far.

He found a new house for the mouse. One with long grass and no cars and lots of hot bubble baths.

And the mouse lived happily in his nice new house.

I think it’s Phil who should have a blog 😂

#day5of30 #30daypostchallenge

anxiety, Mental Health

Accidental Mindfulness

I’ve been thinking about trying mindfulness exercises to help with my anxiety. I think I already do it.

I do this thing I call a micro-nap (when the kids let me). I get comfy, close my eyes, relax all my muscles and try to think about nothing. Preferably under a blanket.

Even 5 uninterrupted minutes in this state can rejuvenate me. 20mins is optimal. Perhaps coincidentally it’s also the optimal nap length.

I started doing it when pregnant with the twins and literally couldn’t stay awake for a full day. Not ideal when I had a toddler who doesn’t nap to look after. It would get me to the end of the day. Or at least until Phil got home.

So I’m thinking there might be something to this mindfulness thing and maybe it’s not just the latest wishy-washy fad.

We’ll see.


#day4of30 #30daypostchallenge

Behaviour, General Parenting

Delinquent in Training

I have noticed a correlation between the number of days spent inside and the level of Caide’s naughtiness. Makes sense. Cabin fever. Boredom. Kids are like dogs – they need to be walked every day or they go nuts.

So we went out. Even though I really didn’t want to. There are people out there. But I needed to go to the post office anyway. And I’d reserved books at the library online and was getti g twitchy about having not picked them up yet.

Caide was a nightmare at the post office, including behaviour that prevented an old lady with a walker from sitting down. I was mortified.

But he loves books. He’ll be good at the library right?


Shouting and screaming and climbing the book displays. Rearranging the furniture. Running off. Reminding me why we stopped going to Bookbug.

I just wanted to leave. But if we never go out in public, how will he ever learn how to behave in public? So I persevered.

It was hellish.

The walk home was also awful. We live literally round the corner from the library but it took us 25mins. He was refusing to walk, bum shuffling, “Put jumper back on!”, “Too hot, take jumper off!”. The final straw was when he ran into the road to jump in a puddle, right after I told him not to (yes, I’m going to get reins, despite always hating the very idea of them. Safety first).

I know all of these things are fairly normal behaviour for a 2 year old but I can’t help but feel his behaviour is worse than average. That I’ve done something wrong.

He’s a total delinquent.

#day3of30 #30daypostchallenge

Life Events

There’s a Moose Loose About This Hoose!

I could cry.

I was just innocently sitting scrolling through endless Father’s Day gift ideas when I see movement out of the corner of my eye.

My first thought was that it was a spider. We get pretty big ones sometimes. But this was the biggest spider I’d ever seen. I stare, horrified. I come to realise that it’s not a spider.

It’s a fucking rat!

After denial came anger (because I’m apparently going through the five stages of grief). Anger that I spend my whole goddamn life cleaning this house and we still end up with rats. We just got rid of ants. After just getting rid of fruit flies who’d laid their larvae in our hoover.

So next comes bargaining. I wish I’d gone to bed at a reasonable time, then I wouldn’t have seen it, and it wouldn’t exist. If I start going to bed at a reasonable time the rat will be no more right? I’ll wake up and find this was just a bad dream.

Depression and acceptance. Nope, there is definitely a rat and I need to do something about it. I want to go and get an adult. But I am the adult.

So I go and wake Phil.

But my movement startles it and it bolts behind Caide’s reading corner unit.

I feel like Phil doesn’t believe me. He thinks I’ve cracked. I’m seeing things. Maybe I am. I mean, why would there be a rat? Our house is clean. Nothings chewed. There’s no droppings anywhere. There is no evidence of rodents. Except the one I saw while bleary eyed at 1am.

We can’t find it. We move the unit but it’s not there. There’s no gaps in the skirting. There’s nowhere it could’ve gone.

Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety.

Phil reassures me that it’s more scared of me than I am of it and it’s not going to climb into the babies’ cots and bite them, and goes back to bed.

I am too freaked out to sleep. I go back to my laptop. After a while the bloody thing comes out again. My first thought is that it’s actually quite small. Might just be a mouse.

It hides again. I’m pretty sure it’s behind the facing on the bottom of our bookshelves. I get Phil again because he is the only person on this planet that can keep me calm and I’m about to have a full-blown panic attack.

As grumpy as he is about being woken again 3 hours before his alarm is going off for work, he removes the facing. “Oh there is one!” (Despite this exclamation, he still claims that he believed me all along…) And out it scarpers, into the hallway and out of sight.

We have no idea what room it went into.

We still don’t.

I want to move house.

#day2of30 #30daypostchallenge

anxiety, General Parenting, Mental Health

No Pressure or Anything

Honestly, the past few weeks have been difficult. Linden is being a clingy nightmare who loses the plot if I’m more than 2 feet away, Theo won’t sleep, and Caide is just generally being a bit of an asshole.

Just normal baby/toddler stuff. But all at once. In 3 different children. All of whom need me. Like really need me. For everything. Their very survival. Their growth and development. Their psychological well-being.

Everything I do (and don’t do) shapes another part of their little brains. I imagine them as an adult sitting in a room with their therapist. “So tell me about your mother.”

Because how I act towards them now has long-term consequences. I am their biggest influence. Me. The women sitting in the corner telling them to go away because I’m touched out. The woman losing the plot over something insignificant because something unrelated has been niggling at me all day. The woman who just doesn’t want to play right now.

I was mad to think I could take on so much responsibility. I can’t even keep a plant alive…

#day1of30 #30daypostchallenge