And, yes. Twins are hard.
I want to be all like, “what? twins? hard? for you, perhaps…”
But that’s not true.
Twins. Are. Hard.
Know it, love it, live it… and then get your peace with it and eat some chocolate and then get a little more peace with it and eat some ice cream… rinse and repeat as needed.
Twins are also awesome and for so many more reasons than dressing them alike (or in coordinating outfits) at Christmas.
Which is, of course, still awesome.
Obviously, what makes twins twins is that they are born at the same time (unless you’re these people, in which case, I got nothing). The beauty of first-born twins is this: they are equally adored and equally ignored.
My friends having their second babies lament that their first will feel put off and that their second will never feel the benefit of sole attention.
Guess what? Twins have no clue. From day one, they always had a buddy. To make up for the shared spotlight, twins are given a lot of public adoration and attention at the mall. I’ve gone out with one baby and was virtually ignored. I go out with two? “OMG! Twins! I have friends that are twins! Do you know all of the other twins in the world? Are yours natural? Identical? SQUEE! Twins!”
Parenting twins also has a ton of built-in grace. Raising two babies simultaneously means that you realize at warp-speed that you are not nearly as awesome or as awful of a parent as you may have initially thought.
For example: Ellie is a lovely, delightful child who HAS TO have her mommy Now. And Now. AND NOW. Forget you if you get in her way. For like, 23 seconds I considered that her neediness was a DIRECT result of MY parenting. I thought, “I HAVE FAILED! BAHHH!!” I look over at her sister Carrie who walks into a room, hugs everyone and hollers, “HEY FRIENDS! HOW’S IT GOING?” And for another two seconds, while watching sweet Carrie charm her way into Grandpa K’s lap for a cookie, I think, “Man, I’m an awesome mom. I mean, really. Look at that kid. I rock!” …Reality settles in. Neither situation has as much to do with me as it does have to do with the girls’ individual and unique and lovely personalities.
This realization also allows me to go to play dates and trips the park and not go into a tailspin because Joey is climbing higher and Suzie is saying more words and on and on and on. Raising twins is a daily reminder of the uniqueness of each child.
Twins keep it real.
When you have two infants flipping you the bird because breakfast is late AGAIN because you just need two more seconds of sleep FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, you kind of say, “forget the daily pictures of the kids in every outfit – I need a shower!” (and a drink and chocolate and ice cream and rinse and repeat as needed…). You cut out the extra stuff – like organizing your diaper bag so that the bibs coordinate with the changing pad and your wallet – and you just make sure you have both babies when you walk out the door.
And your keys.
And your wallet.
And everything else.
While well-dressed, matching babies are totes adorbs and say, “I got this business LOCKED down” – it’s not the most important thing. Unless you make your living parading around your well-dressed, matching babies… in which case, I stand corrected.
Parenting twins means you figure out your most important things early on. The battles worth fighting. The wars worth winning.
For us? Daily showers. Mascara for me, matching socks for Frank. Snuggles with the girls. Walks to the grocery store. Trips to the park. Games of hide and seek. Bubbles on the lawn.
Were there nights where I walked the first floor of our house in endless circles with a baby in each arm singing “Fifty Nifty” and swearing whenever I messed up the order of the States? Yes. Were there days where Frank and I bartered with impossible promises for an extra hour of sleep? Maybe.
But just as quickly as we were awash in the insanity of twin newborns with acid reflux, it was over. And nothing makes you more aware of your own humanity and mortality than watching your child grow up. Singleton babies or multiples – you will blink and this time will be gone.
So yes. Twins are hard. But if you are fortunate enough to parent twins (or triplets or quads…or you know, a bunch), the blessings are multiplied as well.
Good luck and Godspeed.
One thought on “an open letter to other twin-to-be parents”
Emily- I love your writing! This is hilarious and sweet, and you should know that I drop to my knees and fan my “I’m not worthy” arms every time I see parents of twins. You people are amazeballs.