Mums on Facebook

I will be controversial and I’m sorry about it…

In school this term we talked a lot about internet safety and how people on Facebook often create a different image of themselves. I know about it, you know about it, but it’s a useful thing to teach to 12 year old girls. This sparked a conversation at lunch amongst me and my colleagues and one of them told us how she has an account, but she never posts, only reads what other people are up to.

I thought about all of this later that day. What do I post? Only the good things? Well, I do. But the question is, why wouldn’t I? I do not think anyone believes Facebook is a true representation of someone’s life. Of my life! People who reads my profile are not teenagers, they should be aware that no life is perfect and only made up by amazing pictures and unique moments to share. So, why would I even consider sharing boring or sad stuff? No, I will carry on sharing lovely pictures of B smiling or T being proud about his latest Duplo built.

I will moan about a long night awake with a feverish child. I will also vent about bad traffic, but I won’t share every single time I am tired or low. Why would I? Just to remind you that my life is not perfect? Well, here’s your reminder: I have twins, my life is upside down on the best of days.

When Facebook shows me “memories you shared”, I don’t want to look back at lots of boring entries. I want to see the funny pictures that put a smile on my face! I want to see how young and chubby the boys used to look at 18 months or how cute was the first time they had solid food. I’m sorry if I create a false image of my own life, but those are the memories I want to share. Why wouldn’t I?

All those mums that share lots of pictures of their children and where they have been at the weekend… please carry on, you have just reminded me that I want to go there to. And by the way, I don’t believe for a second that your weekend was as perfect as it looks in the pictures you shared. I know there was a fight for a toy or a smelly poo or a spilt drink all over your favourite carpet. I am a mum… I know!


I parlo due languages

As the vocabulary improves in both languages, the confusion gets exponentially greater… here’s a short collections of examples.

B: “Guarda mummy, I’m a dottore! (Look mummy, I’m a doctor)


T: “Mamma, I parlo (speak) due”

Me (in Italian): ” Yes, well done. What languages do you speak?”

T: “Inglese and Italian”


T: “Just the food, mummy”.

Me: “In Italian, please?”

T: “Just the cibo


Me: “How do pirates speak?”

B hesitantly: “In English?”


Talking about T’s crow (corvo) soft toy which he just threw off the couch: “mamma guarda, corvo fell in the acqua” (mum look, my crow fell in the water).


Talking about pizza toppings…

T: “I don’t like funghi (mushroom), I like olive (olives)”.


B runs to me and says: “Mummy, T hurt me!”

Me (in Italian): “What did YOU do to him?” (Che cosa gli hai fatto?)

B: “I didn’t fatto (done) anything!”


T commenting on one of B’s mischieves: “I don’t do that, because I’m a bimbo bravo (good boy)”

Many more of these to come… I’m sure!

The day when everything turned white…

We had to wait till March, but we finally had enough snow to build a snowman!

In January we had one day in which it snowed for about 10 minutes and the moment it was over the boys exclaimed with joy “we can build a snowman now, mummy!”. Mummy had to sadly break the news to them that we really needed longer than 10 minutes to have enough snow. So disappointing.

The built up to snow day was great. B would come home from nursery and tell me all about the snow. First it would start in English, then, when I didn’t show enough enthusiasm for his standard, he would translate the occasional word in Italian (for my benefit): “mamma, snow is bianco and it’s cold… freddo, mamma! I touched it!” To add to the hilarity of the situation, he would also list all the places and things with snow on top: “Mummy, I saw snow on your car and on daddy’s car and on the roof and on the tree and…” all in one breath! Impressive!

When the snow finally arrived, the excitement was topped by both mummy and daddy taking two whole days off work. What a treat!

We built a snowman (obviously!) and had a snowballs fight. We also went for a walk and saw all our neighbourhood covered in this lovely and fluffy white powder… So beautiful. Daddy also took them in an icy stream. They were thrilled!

We had two very special days and some lovely time together as a family. We had time to make a pizza, bake cookies, play with trains and even camp out in the living room. We also had some fights over toys, a significant number of tantrums from T and a perforated eardrum for B… but no snow day is perfect, right?!

Pirates day

I work many hours a day, too many to be precise. The good side of my job though is the long holidays. Every few weeks I get a week (or 3) off. I get to spend it with my boys and I often tend to make it the best time ever. As one of my colleague says, I switch to supermummy mode.

Last week was one of those special weeks, we went places, ate out, did some painting and spent lots of time together. The crown jewel of the week was pirates day.

I spent a day planning it and almost a week preparing it, but it was all worthy. I bought a pair of pirates costumes, some storytelling dice and pirates cupcakes mix. Everything else was prepared by the boys… under strict supervision.

On Tuesday we painted a cardboard shark.

On Wednesday we prepared some golden cardboard coins for our treasure.

On Thursday we painted a treasure chest brown with golden glitter and prepared three pirates telescopes.

On Friday we played!

We built islands with Duplo and looked for treasures. We got tatoos like real pirates. We also told tall tales about adventures on desert islands and far away lands. As any good pirates day should have, we had a sword fight and obviously cupcakes with a (sugar) skull and bones on them. We filled in a mosaic of a parrot and a pirate; we watched the tale of captain Hook; we looked for the hidden treasure chest in the deepest and most obscure parts of the living room and finally… we went for a nap still holding our swords.

What you can achieve with some paint, cardboard and a little creativity is spectacular. If then you add some browsing on Pinterest, only the sky is the limit!

I’m already planning my next themed day…

What does it all mean?

If you believe that there’s no reason to have a parents-teacher meeting in preschool, you are wrong! The targets set at these events are elaborate and inspiring… An Oxbridge application will soon follow a target such as “recognising shapes in everyday objects”. Doesn’t it???

Don’t get me wrong, it is a pleasure to hear about how B and T are progressing, but I struggle to keep a straight face when I read some of the reports. I am also fluent in teacher’s speak, so I can translate the report into English.

T is very confident = T is a little know-it-all

T is curious about the world around him and often asks adults when he wants help in his learning = T keeps on asking WHY? every three seconds

B is able to focus when playing with jigsaws = B never sits down unless there’s a jigsaw to play with

T is learning to share with others = T only snatches toys from other children, but he doesn’t bite or shove them on the floor anymore

B enjoys sharing his knowledge of Italian with his key person = B is cheeky and speaks whatever language he fancies and his key person struggles to understand him

At the end of an evening like this, I go home with the knowledge that both of my boys are growing up well and have a lot of fun with their friends.

That’s all one can ask for.

May I leave the table, please?

As a parent I always have to choose between convenience and discipline. For example, going on holiday at an All Inclusive resort means going to a restaurant 3 times a day and last year it meant dealing with two very naughty toddlers. My husband suggested the infallible use of a tablet. It does work, but at what price. Surely every meal is a chance to learn how to behave at the table. It’s a chance for mum and dad to give the good example. Or maybe it isn’t…. Maybe every meal becomes a test. Maybe it’s not worthy.

We recently had guests coming to our house for lunch and T’s behaviour at the table was impeccable. He ate all his food and then asked for permission to leave. B on the other hand clearly felt that the pressure to entertain was solely on his shoulders…

Never mind the fact that he refused to eat anything but olives. Never mind him sliding under the table. Never mind when he started chanting like if he was at a football game. The problem actually started when he left the table and started to remove all his clothes! All I can say is that I’m happy we weren’t in a restaurant, as he could have been charged with public indecency.

Half term is coming up, this means spending 24 hours a day with the boys and occasionally eating out… Will I bring a tablet or some crayons? Will I go high tech or old school? But most importantly, will B show his bottom to any other innocent bystanders?

Car wash

Have you ever taken a toddler thorough a car wash? Well, if you have not tried it yet, put down your phone and go right now… If your life is half a busy as mine, I’m sure your car needs a wash anyway!

B loved it from start to finish… The water, the bubbles, the big big brushes! Almost better than a ride on a roller coaster.

T was ok with the water, concerned about the foam wash and terrified of the brushes. On the other hand being the super tidy toddler he is, he was extremely pleased to see the clean car at the end of it.

Can’t wait for the next wash!

Airport security mishap

Flying to Italy for our Christmas break, we had to go through “normal” security as the family lane was closed. When we arrived at the conveyer belt to let our belongings go through the x-ray machine, the security man told us to take a child each and go to two different positions. After I put my bag and coat on the belt, I took my twin and moved towards the metal detector. To be nice I also indicated to the other twin to come along and let daddy place his items on the belt without interruptions.

Once we arrived at the metal detector I explained to the lady there that I was going to go through followed by each child individually. “We have done it many times before” I said. I confidently stepped in the metal detector and out on the other side…


What?! I turned to the lady and asked politely if I could get the children through before having to go in the body scan machine. She agreed and I got the boys to come to me without any further alarms going off. At this point she asked me if I was travelling alone. I replied: “No, my husband is just putting his bag on the belt, I don’t know what is taking him so long”. She suggested for me to wait.

A second later, a man went through the metal detector and the security woman greeted him with a smile “Here are your children, sir” and half shoved him towards, half pointed at the twins. The man was left with no word. “I am… I actually…” I jumped in quickly: “This is NOT my husband! May I have my children back, please?”

Superhero or sidekick?

When you are a twin, your brother (or sister) is always with you. ALWAYS. He was there when you were born, when you started eating solids and when you couldn’t sleep at night, but most importantly he is here now… When you wake up or go to sleep, eat or go to the toilet, play or watch TV. Whatever you do, your twin is there.

To me this sounds very oppressive and limiting, but if you, like my children, have never known anything different, you have probably grown accustom to this. What you have to ask yourself is “am I going to be the superhero or the sidekick today?”. I’m lucky that both of my children are confident enough to take either role with a smile.

If you have a wingman with you at all times, you can easily manipulate all games and activities offered by your parents or nursery staff alike.

When the ladies at nursery set up 12 little chairs into two neat rows as to resemble a plane, they didn’t know that T and B had a different plan in mind. T was put in front, as the pilot, but that didn’t last long… He went from pilot to train driver in no time. When he shouted to B that they were about to leave the station, B got straight into character and started checking tickets on the train.

The idea of the plane was a good one, but I guess that no one could have predicted the twins hijacking the plane!

Twins on holiday

As I’m planning the Christmas break, I am looking back at the summer holiday to Menorca…

Taking a toddler on holiday means a lot more than not being able to go out after dinner. It means lots of time spent in the pool (and less sunbathing), it brings the occasional fight at meal time, but also a generous amount of laughter and smiles. As everything in life, it has its pros and cons.

Taking twins on holiday, on the other hand, pushes this to a higher level. The amount of laughter is double, but there are also twice as many fights for food. There are longer queues for the shower at the end of the day, but there are double cuddles in the morning. You certainly need double the patience and half the appetite (they will NOT eat their food, but they WILL eat yours). The pictures you will take are priceless and see them queing to jump in the pool to daddy is simply unforgettable.

Is it worthy? Well, it depends on your expectations…

Did you want to relax? No way.

Recharge? Not at all.

Get tanned? Nah.

Make memories which will last a lifetime? Yes, you will.

It will be hard to forget the day with three poos in the swim nappy. Very hard!