Anne Dickens | The Day After Yesterday

So, I don't know if you remember, but a while ago I did a post about an old university friend of mine - Andy "Poops" Cooper. The post centered around the fact that him and his Mrs were expecting twins (on top of their current two-and-a-half-year-old toddler).

Then lo and behold! Just before Christmas, I received a text from Poops: "just to let you know about the arrival of our twin boys - Henry and James."

I was extremely chuffed for them, and texted back, "Congratulations matey. Can't wait to see 'em. You do know that looking after them will completely squeeze your lifeblood?"

"Already has," came back the reply, "I haven't done anything other than change a nappy, or feed and soothe a baby since they were born." Gulp.

After that brief exchange, I thought to myself, 'I'll give them a couple of months to get used to the sprogs, and then I'll telephone them to arrange a visit.

But it didn't get to that.

Two weeks ago, I received a text from Poops; "Are you going to come and visit the twins before they leave home?" 

Marvellous, Poops had got around to inviting me sooner than I thought.

To the west country we were going! And as a result, last weekend Izzy and I jumped into the big, grey, bling machine, and set our sights to Somerset.

After the two hour journey morphed into three hour one (because I had set the Sat Nav wrong), we finally pulled up outside of Poops' house. From the outside it looked like nothing had changed, but then I rang the doorbell.

Poops opened the door. He was pale and looked like a rabbit with myxomatosis -  bewildered and not knowing what to do next.

And then I noticed the second thing ..... the noise. Unlike my house which is always noisy - radio playing, Izzy chitter-chattering, telephone ringing, computer pinging, door creaking, Naughty George barking - normally Poops and Chris live in a very quiet house.

Not any more. Their lovely toddler was playing the drums (bought by a well meaning Uncle), and the twins were crying in anticipation of their just-about-to-happen feed.

And so I was quickly indoctrinated into the life of a family with 3 kids under the age of three.

"Bloody hell, it's mayhem," I pointed out. 

Poops stared at me, "I haven't slept for nine weeks," he stated, resignedly.
__________________________________________

I had no idea how relentless and full-on it was going to be.

It was like being attacked by a flock of triffids, and then after you fighted with and killed them all, there was another flock behind.

It was a continual treadmill of feeds, nappy changes, comforting, dressing, rocking to sleep, putting to bed, waking up, feeding again etc ...... you get the picture. And it was literally 24 hours a day.

Very little sleep to be had by parents (they estimated that they got 3-4 hours a night on a good day - KERPOWWW). 

And that was without leaving the house.

Getting three young kids out the door was a bloody military operation.