What is it they say, those wise and wonderful people from whom all the old sayings come from? Is it that bad things come in threes? Well my bad things tend to come in larger multiples than that, but perhaps that’s because my balance is terrible and I often fall over, as previously discussed during this maternity session. Obviously my early childhood training as a ballerina didn’t do the work it should have.
It certainly didn’t help me after an all night essay writing session at university (two completed in one night, my record), when I was walking/stumbling down to the department to hand them in. It was lunchtime, the pavement was awash with puffer-jacket wearing undergrads, and I was pushing against the tide. I wouldn’t consider myself a gymnast, but on that particular day, had you seen me trip, stumble, regain balance, trip again, fall forward, effect a perfect forward roll, downhill, followed by three full rolls, then heaving myself up without barely breaking my stride, you would have thought me a contender for gold at London 2012. Probably more shot put than parallel bars. But I can wave a long bit of ribbon to East European dance music with the best of them.
Slightly concussed, I got to the department with just two minutes to spare. Surely deserving some sort of rapturous applause for my effort, I was disappointed to find that none was forthcoming. So I went for a lie down by the river, safe in the knowledge that a new appreciation for my suppleness and flexibility would be evident in anyone that saw me roll three times outside the student’s union.
So if bad things come in threes, then some of the very best things come along in twos. Like the current fashion for putting all sweets in a duo wrapper. Or Buy One Get One offers, on anything. But even more so, gorgeous twin baby boys. The very loveliest of all things two.
I was lucky enough to meet two very handsome, almost peas in a pod. Whilst one was fair, the other was dark. One was very sleepy, quite content, and calm, the other was…
…not quite ready for his close up, shall we say. But that’s the benefit of having the session in your home. Mum and Dad get to stay relaxed, and the babies follow suit. Well with a little rocking, and whispering, and a touch of milk. Very soon, both little boys were marvelling at the strange lady and her lens staring down at them.
And when that became all too much, the cutest little baby yawns and sleepy-lidded frowns made a short appearance.
Before long, we wrapped them up warm, and placed them close enough to settle each other with slow, soft baby snores.
I’m not really one for props or posing your newborn. I prefer to capture them with you, in a natural setting, in the comfort of your own home and surrounded by things that hold meaning to you. Which is why I just about leapt out of my skin when I saw this beautiful blanket, hand made by an adoring Grandmother. Not only were the colours delicious, but it told a story.
So with the boys coming round from their nap, still yawning, cutely screwing up their faces, and then dreaming a bit more and smiling, mum and dad told me about the family dog lovingly stitched into the blanket, the patchwork hills of home, and the sky-blue, sky-bound plane, that would take their grandparents home – but always be there to bring them back to visit.
Those cute little baby grow-bags have certainly done the trick. I love receiving updates on the boys, how much they’ve grown, how they’ve changed already and how the fairest has caught up with his dark-haired brother. Which makes it even more special that I was able to be there then, capture them new and sleeping heart-shaped in daddy’s arms.
Keep growing strong Alexander and Sebastian. I’ll see you both soon.