Twinternational

The first time we attracted the attention of tourists was in Heidelberg.  That was before we even had the twins.  The Chinese tourists coming out of the castle onto the ramparts where we were picnicking surrounded us, snapping shots of Ryan and Andrew, totally impressed that two siblings could be so unalike in colouring.  One young lady even asked if Damon and I would pose with the kids.  (We did, happily.)

With Wolfy in Heidelberg

Genetics.  What a concept.  I hadn't even thought about it until then but yeah, white people ARE funny that way! 

This friendly interest totally beat the German woman in the swimming pool locker room a year later who boldy informed me - not asked - that my children obviously didn't have the same father.  In front of the kids.  Nice.

It's called hybrid vigour.  It's why mutts are less prone to diseases than purebreds and why the Russian royals were on the way out even before they were brutally executed by the communists.  (Hemophilia, for those of you who missed the in-school movie, thanks to generations of inbreeding.)

Both mine (Barefoot park in Germany - odd concept when I think about it now!  But cool!)

We draw less attention for the twin-thing now that Matthew has sprouted up a head taller than Aidan.  (Nowadays it's " how old ARE your boys?" as they try to figure out how I could have three boys so close in age.)

But I tend to dress them alike when we go to any major tourist spots; easier to pick out weather-appropriate gear AND easier to spot them if they are both dressed in brigh orange.  (I choose their swimwear identically for the same reason!)

We are often attention-grabbers, posing for pictures in front of world famous tourist spots as the tourguide patiently - or resignedly - waits for the photoshoot  and obligatory question and answer period to end. 

A Japanese tour group delayed their entrance into the Frauenkirche in Dresden in order to snap us.  And later the Italians gave up a view of the Elbe to follow for a photo session in the park.

Twins in Dresden  (Look at that hair!)

Last week Damon said a Chinese man promptly turned his lens from the Opera House in Sydney to fire shots of the twins climbing around the steps in front of it.

Twin sighting in front of some building!

Eh, you can always buy a postcard of the Opera House.

Eh - we've got the same barber!  (Dad.)

It isn't everyday you see twins!

Twin Thing

Matthew (red) and Aidan (blue) in Playmobilland, Germany. 

Okay.  Here's a cute little thing that happened at school.

The twins have best friends. 

All I heard about the first week of school was Thomas.  Their best friend Thomas.

Then their teacher told me that she'd been noticing that MY twins had been spending an inordinate amount of time with the OTHER set of twins in the class.  She said she didn't even notice it at first - all of the kids are wearing the same uniform after all - but just sat down at a table with four boys.  And realized those four boys were two sets of twins working together.  After that, she noticed it more and more.

Thomas's brother's name is Lachlan.  Which my boys can't pronounce and which is why I had only heard about Thomas.

Thomas and Lachlan are fraternal twins as well, which is nice because, since they are all blonde and have short haircuts, it is really rather difficult to tell the FOUR of them apart.  (Thomas and Lachlan have black school shoes and Aidan and Matthew wear white sneakers.  Tennies for the Aussies, I believe!)

Iglersreuth, Germany.  A rare treat - TWO tractors!

The four of them ARE branching out and meeting other friends as well.  Which is good since there are so many cool kids to meet who AREN'T twins.  But I do think that twins respond to eachother in a special way.  I'd noticed it before in Germany when my two boys met another two boys at a play area in a department store.  The four of them played for over an hour, patiently taking turns on a small trampoline.  Mind you, they were all about three, and mind you, this was Germany.  And children anywhere are going to start bickering and pushing after a while.

But not these four.  I think its because they had HAD to learn to share things equally.  Even more so than an older or younger sibling, there is no discussion on equitable distribution of resources among a population of two that has the EXACT SAME needs at the EXACT SAME AGE.  No, well honey, Lisa is two years older than you and......  Or Mark is younger than you are and.......

Twins are together, sharing the same stages of development.  And together a lot.  If life is going to work out at all these little people are going to have to learn to work it out.  I don't think it's premeditated or that twin parents are better at it.  I think its necessity.  (The same reason that my kids will eat an apple without it being peeled and sliced or slinkied.  The same reason they will generally eat what is put in front of them or know that they'll go hungry.)

Aidan and Matthew and Thomas and Lachlan obviously aren't thinking about this as they choose playmates.  My two didn't even realize the other two were twins until the third week of school.  But I do think there is an ease, a familiarity with how they interact with oneanother as siblings and as twins that feels comfortable to another set of twins.

I like Thomas and Lachlan's mother too.  And we have similar parenting experiences.  So that it is all really easy and natural.

Just like finding a best friend - or two - should be!

Really gotta love those coordinated sweaters.  I obviously do.

Twins ARE Special

"What IS it about Aidan and Matthew that all the other kids can't stop raving about them?"

"All my son talks about is Aidan and Matthew."

"What are we going to do without Aidan and Matthew in the kindergarten next year?"

"My son has asked for a sibling so that he can be like Aidan and Matthew."

What IS it about twins that has us all so fascinated?

Even twins themselves. My two LOVE it when they see a pair of newborn twins in a double stroller. "Twins. Twins. Like us." they whisper excitedly. They followed one unsuspecting grandmother around a playground last year. My two tiny stalkers.

When Gaetan, Claire and Chloe brought THEIR Aidyn and Mia to visit my two each claimed one for their own. Aidan got Aidyn. And Matthew got Mia. They were so pleased.

The kids in kindergarten clearly sense that something special between the two of them. I'm getting complaints from the mothers that their single sons are asking for a brother, just like Aidan and Matthew have.

I'm not sure how it is with boy-girl twins. Or identicals. Two girls. But I do know that my two little men - with entirely different temperaments - still have enough in common with that Y chromosome and shared age - that they have a best bud to knock down, roll around and generally have punchy fun with.

Oh sure, it can get ugly too. Kiddy boxing with equally matched opponents. But for the most part they simply get the biggest kick out of eachother.

I'd been so worried about them retaining an individual identity. No sweat there. They each have their own - warped - sense of fashion. ANd even when they DO elect to wear the same outfit at the same time - or I decide for them out of lack of creativity that morning - well, they wear them very differently.

So that they are NOT clones of eachother.

Just brothers who are lucky enough to be the same age.

It's fun watching them grow into that twin bond, exciting watching them realize what it means.

And now that they're four, I get to be special too. I'm a mother who survived the baby years with twins. I am WAY more laid back than mothers with only one child. I've nursed two. I've changed two. I've fed two. Bathed two. Carried two. Up stairs. With the groceries.

Honestly, you live through that.....you've earned the privilege to enjoy them a bit now too!

Twin Birthday

It really was double the fun.

I'd been so worried that the boys would start asking for their OWN birthdays. Something just for ME, Mom, something I don't have to share.

But, you know what, they LOVED it. It was THEIR day, their weekend into Tuesday really, and they LOVED being the center of attention TOGETHER.

It never even occurred to them to NOT to want to share their special day.

They looked for eachother before opening two of their gifts before Andrew's baseball game on Sunday. And then passed out the cookies to the team together.

When the cakes came out later in the afternoon - and yes, we had two - they turned to eachother beaming at their luck.

How great is this, to be able to share your special day with the brother you love?!

Each made sure the other had a present to open too, before tearing into his. (And yes, this year anyway, they got the same things.)

And shared in the glory at kindergarten on Monday as well.

We had two cakes at the party Tuesday too. Although I don't think they needed it. And they did get some presents to share - on my request. And were okay with it.

I'm learning - slowly - to stop making such a big fuss over this stuff.

So what, they're twins.

Less one-on-one time with Mom. But you know what, two of their best friends have asked their mothers for siblings so that they can be like Aidan and Matthew!

Takes a four year old to point out the obvious.

What these guys have is special.

Happy Birthday Little Men!

Labelling the Kids

Having twins in the house has made us rather label conscious.

First of all there is the label "twins." Don't really like it. But haven't figured out a way around it. They used to be "the babies," but that can only last so long. If we didn't have an older brother, they could be "the boys," but yeah....we got more than a couple of those. We've tried "the little ones" but that always irked me when my friend did that with HER four-year old twins. For crying out loud, they can only be "little" for so long.

My shrink - who also has twins - suggested calling them "Aidan and Matthew," but that's rather a mouthful on a chaotic weekday afternoon. I've generally got that "Ryan...Andrew...Aidan...Matthew....oh to hell with it, you know who you are".....thing going on.

Add to that the fact that I have always talked to the OTHER twin while I was physically comforting his brother. Since I can't be everything to everyone all at once, I tried to split myself in half by reassuring one with my arms and the other with my voice.

This has led to interesting results.

Imagine having your mother cradling you in her arms, all the while calling out reassurances to your brother.

"Mommy," Aidan has taken to complaining recently, "I am NOT Matthew. I am Aidan."

My goodness, is he expecting both my physical presence AND attention?!!

Well, I guess at least I'm lucky he knows which one he is. (Thank goodness for kindergarten!)

Aidan has retaliated though. He calls ME "Mommy Connor." Or, when he's really angry "Mommy Mommy Connor." Appears I spend a lot of time calling them by their full names.

The strange thing is that Mommy Connor doesn't really exist. I am officially still a Steinmann. Dr. Steinmann if the kids are going to get snooty about it. Damon's mother is remarried to a Crossen, and has been for over twenty-five years. And Damon's father's mother - the REAL Mommy Connor - died in childbirth over sixty years ago. I consider Aunt Linda, Damon's father's sister, and a Sanicola by marriage, as the matriarchal head of that whole clan.

Mommy Connor. It is so weird to be known - and loved - by a name that really isn't mine. It's as if the kids have taken me, erased my past, and invented a brand new person for their own private, little world. Which is part of what being a mother is all about.

Ah well. I take it all in stride. Yesterday Matthew was pretending to be his sister, Ryan, and refusing to answer by any other name. If that continues, things are going to get mighty confusing around here.

Although, come to think of it, at that point his NAME is going to be the least of our issues!

Nursing Twins

It CAN be done. But not by everyone and not exclusively.

La Leche can send the nursing mafia hit men after me, but someone has got to stand up to them.

When Aidan and Matthew were 8 weeks old we took them to Mallorca, where everyone had the privilege of watching me nurse one or the other of them continuously the entire time. Europe and a bikini. I don't know how you'd do it in America. We were also bottle feeding while my body sent out for more milk.

I ate three full buffet meals daily, including chocolate covered pancakes for breakfast and a slice of cake and icecream for desert at dinner. And I didn't gain an ounce.

Of course, when we got home and I had to sprint to kindergarten and school every morning and afternoon to pick up Ryan and Andrew, well, I just didn't have the opportunity to sit and eat that way anymore. Let alone sit at all. Sleep was also a rare commodity.

I did my best for six full months, running around Altdorf without a bra (must have been a beautiful sight to behold!)and drinking malt beer. Til someone compared it to trying to nurse while playing professional basketball. My body just didn't have the energy for both.

I guess La Leche's definition of "mother" is right up there with "cow." Cows stand still and eat all day in order to produce milk. Sorry La Leche, but most definitions of mother also include older children, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, the soccer/ballet run and a husband. (If you are lucky; my hats off to anyone who raises twins as a single parent.) I'd say you need to find time for yourself too, but let's face it, in the beginning that just translates to more time to SLEEP! Or playing Monopoly with the older kids.

You do the best you can. And you give your children more than milk.

You only have so much of yourself to give.

A mother is worth more than her milk alone.

Time Management with Two (or More)

"I don't know how you do it with twins." You hear that over and over.

And so you try to explain. Play it off. Laugh at the humor of an impossible situation.

But then again, it turns out they're really not interested in how you do it anyway. Just looking for something to say.

"They" are never really going to get it anyway. But let me try.

I remember the advice I got from a girlfriend of mine, who had just had a baby, when I was pregnant with my first. Let's face it, as a working woman, when you are pregnant with your first you just can't believe all the free time you are going to have off from work. What a luxury. "Just don't think you're going to be able to sit at home with the baby and finally be able to organize your old photos," my friend told me. "You would not believe how much time one small baby takes." Which I did not believe and was exactly what I figured I would be doing with all my time off - finally getting all those unfinished details of my life in order, the stuff you never find time to do because you are working full-time. You know, instead of on break at home with a baby.

And I still honestly can't believe how much time that one baby took. I mean, what was I doing all day? It was one. No other kids at home. She was an easy baby. And yet I distinctly recall days in the beginning where I literally just sat on the couch with her all day, or at least felt like I had cared for her all day, without any time off, without getting anything else at all done. And I'm a really relaxed mom compared to most. Not at all panicky or worried about perfection.

Must be that parenting is a learned skill after all.

So, you remember how much time that one baby took. You could really say 100% of your time at first, but let's give it an easy estimate and say, what seventy percent of your time? You had time maybe for a cup of coffee and a shower? Maybe even slept a bit at night?

Double that. No really, do it. Double the seventy percent that the one baby takes up of your time and double it for two. One hundred and forty percent of your time. With twins. And since that isn't possible just assume that me stating that twins take up one hundred percent of your time at first is not an overexaggeration. (Please don't make me think of the poor parents of three or four or more. Please.)
When Claire, a new mother of twins, recently told me she was getting five hours of sleep at night - of course not all at once - she was justifiably proud of herself. Infant twins. Some sleep at night. Maternal love is truly miraculous. Being happy with five hours of interrupted sleep is just as miraculous. And we do it.

"Come on," you say. "Twins can't be that bad. One hundred percent of the time is such an overexaggeration." Because people without twins honestly figure you can just multi-task those two infants into one super infant. I've actually had women tell me that they always thought twins would be the way to go because (and listen to this)with two at once you could just do a LITTLE extra work and then be done with it, instead of doing two in a row. Twins are just way more efficient than two singletons.

Until you remember trying to nurse - or even just feed - your one infant. Some mothers find it really hard. Nursing is not as easy as it looks - pretty physically demanding, requiring some amount of coordination and muscle strength. You actually get sore muscles in the neck, back and arms. And then try it with two. One technique is actually called a football hold. It is not a leisure activity. It is a contact sport. It is time consuming and it is physically exhausting. Not saying it can't be done- mothers do it every day - or that it isn't rewarding. It just takes a lot of time and energy.

I remember feeding my twins - they must have been about 8 months old at the time - at a friend's house one morning. I wasn't even thinking about it. Got out the baby jars and started at it. 'Oh my God, Christine," she cried. "how are you able to do that?" Do what? Huh? I hadn't even noticed, but the speed and efficiency with which I was spooning the food into two baby's mouths was truly impressing - and I think frightening - her. You don't have time to casually do anything with twins. You don'thave time for niceties, or to worry about perfection. You just do it.

It requires double the energy at double the speed double the amount of time. At least.

Man do you turn into one super human being.

I'm not bitching. I'm not moaning. I loved every minute of it and am so proud at what I was - and still am -able to do.

BUt it doesn't help when people tell a new mother of twins that she cannot possibly do this alone, that she needs to get help she can't afford or send for family members that cannot possibly come.

Managing twins is totally impossible. I can't even imagine triplets or more - also just inhumanly possible. You just can't do it. Period.

And yet we do.

I guess it doesn't matter that noone else will ever understand.

It's an exclusive club.

Sleep Deprivation and Multiples

I've been trying to find some useful data on the effects of sleep deprivation on the internet. Most of it is useless for my purpose - lots of prattle about how most of us today are so sleep deprived that we need 5 or 6 hours on the weekend just to catch up. Since the general rule of thumb goes that the average adult needs 8 hours of sleep a night, if you only get 6 or 7 a night during the week, you need those long Saturday mornings or your Sunday afternoon nap to catch up. Our society is apparently chronically overworked and over tired - all leading to debiliating effects physically, psychologically and emotionally.

When I look back on my first few months with the twins, I AVERAGED 3 to 4 hours of sleep a night - interrupted usually into spurts of 2 hours.

When I finally found a site I thought might be useful it explained that the ethics of sleep deprivation were such that carrying out research was impossible. (I'd suggest studying the mothers of new born multiples, not in jest, but as an area that really requires research and that would benefit future mothers of multiples.) "The effects on the human body and mind are so serious that researchers find it difficult to investigate sleep deprivation." (www.insomniacs.co.uk)

Mothers often joke that sleep deprivation is used as a form of torture. Ha ha. According to this same site, "Sleep is a stronger basic need than food and water. Simply, the human body cannot do without sleep."

And yet mothers of multiples do it for months.

Looking back on the feeding charts I had for the first 6 months, I am appalled and relieved at how little sleep I had. Appalled because it is humanly impossible to survive the way I did those first few months. Relieved because I am finally realizing where I lost myself.

The twins were born on July 4, 2006. July 5 was my first night with no sleep. July 25 was my second night with no sleep. In between I slept approximately 3 hours a night, with no naps during the day. On July 12, I note that I slept from 10 PM - 12AM and stayed in bed while nursing Matthew from 1 - 2AM. (From 12 to 1 AM it looks like I was nursing and caring for Aidan.) I then slept again from 4 AM to 5:45 AM. At 2AM I had been changing Aidan's diaper and at 3AM I was still trying to nurse Matthew and get him to sleep. Looks like Aidan was nursing again at 5:30 AM.

According to the site, "Few people ever experience real sleep deprivation". My Psych 101 professor at Cornell University was a sleep expert, and I remember something about requiring not just sleep, but REM sleep, in order to function - also that it took 2 -3 hours of UNINTERRUPTED sleep before you hit the REM stage.

Some nights were better. On August 4 Aidan slept from 11 PM to 6 AM and Matthew slept from 8 PM to 1 AM and then again til 5:30. That gave me 4 and a half hours of UNINTERRUPTED sleep, to make up for the nights when I'd had less.

During the day I had the older two to get to school by 8 AM and to pick up again at noon. Since Ryan had just started first grade, I was walking with her. I'd get home at 9:30, nurse both boys with the cushion, and by 10:30, try to get up off the couch without waking them. It never happened. By 11:30 I was on my way back to school.

The afternoons were a blur of feedings and preparing meals for the older two.

A lot of twin books talk about the blur of the first few months, but sleep deprivation literally causes disorientation, impaired brain function and memory loss. When I started swaying on my feet after three months, my doctor diagnosed hypothyroidism - but even pills couldn't help a metabolic system with no sleep. A few months later, I was also diagnosed with anemia, and more pills. Also, could the fact that I now had an autoimmune disease - the Hashimoto's thyroiditis that caused the hypothyroidism - stem from the fact that my body had literally not been able to rest for months? Again, the research isn't there, because it isn't ethical to subject anyone to such conditions.

My friends with one new baby all looked fanastic, fit and happy, well-rested and content, in comparison to myself. So I took to jogging for an hour every day in the spring, when the twins were 9 months old and taking a momrning nap fairly regulary around 10 AM. (The twins, not I.) Or I took them with me in the stroller. I lost weight, I ate well, gave up meat and carbs, alcohol and caffeine. Before I finally collapsed the spring before the twins turned two, I looked good, and was still chronically exhausted.

I haven't wanted to put this into print - because it's not the picture I was painting for friends and neighbors. Or frankly, for myself. And I don't have a lesson or a moral for this. I can't tell someone who is now pregnant with twins how to avoid it. Getting night help is an obvious answer, but not real practical for most of us. (In case you were wondering where my husband was all those nights, I honestly can't remember, but he did do his best to help out as well.) And I do mean to confront La Lache at some point about their militant stance on nursing - not ALL women can or should nurse twins, and nursing two babies full-time just can't be in the best interests of most of us also trying to stay healthy enough to also raise other children - without help. (My mom was with us the first two months - during the day only, but she was as overwhelmed and exhausted as I was; it helped to have another two hands around, but they were a supplement, not a substitute for my own.)

I guess that's why we have all those books on surviving the first year with twins. But the useful hints can only take you so far. The humor, it's a way of dealing with the difficulty. Is it going to help anyone to know HOW HARD this is REALLY going to be? Honest numbers on how little sleep you are really going to get? Yeah - yeah - I read the books too - get them on a 3 -4 hour schedule, feed them simultaneously so you get it all over with at once. And, between 6 and 12 months it DID get easier, and by one year, my guys were sleeping through the night.

I think it might help to know that it isn't as pat and dried as the tips suggest, and that it wasn't as easy - or humorous - in practice as it looks in print. (And let's be fair - noone pretends it was a walk on the beach.)

And that's why the best advice out there is still to know that this too shall pass. I loved every minute of the first six months - the reality of the impossibility of my situation didn't hit me until the second six months - but I'm wondering where to go from here. What are the lasting effects of chronic sleep deprivation? How long does it take to recover emotionally? Will the physical effects ever resolve?

I don't regret giving everything I had and was to my children. I'm just wondering if I can have her back again.

Brad and Angelina

Like I was going to be able to stay away from this one. I feel really close to Brad and Angie, I really do. Angelina has the life I would have liked if I …well, if I had had another life. She gets to travel all over the world, lend her voice to causes she believes in, make movies, look great and have lots of kids. She makes millions, donates one third of it to charity, and looks genuinely happy. What’s not to envy? She was pregnant with her third child, the first two being adopted, while I was pregnant with my numbers three and four. I kept abreast of her in the magazines in my obstetrician’s office; I was having twins, I spent a lot of time there. I really felt we had a lot in common, kid-wise anyway.

Then she and Brad adopted number four and also popped out numbers five and six. Within two years of number three. How the heck was I going to compete with that?

I’m not judging. At least not Brad and Angelina. But I do have a bone to pick with the media coverage they’ve received since the arrival of the twins. (Have they adopted any more since I last looked? Maybe I ought to check again. Oops – there it is – rumors of an impending pregnancy.) The media idolizes Brad and Angelina, their ability to jet set around the world, live in four or five countries, make movies, support the U.N and help rebuild New Orleans, all while carting around and caring for six children, including infant twins. The pictures show them strolling through New York, through New Orleans, through Berlin, looking radiant. Angelina doesn’t even have circles under her eyes. (Although Brad does, God bless him!)

Okay. They have a lovely family and I’m sure they are fantastic parents. However, they are also attending international auctions and movie premieres - and oh yeah, President Obama’s inauguration. Despite the banner headlines that they did NOT have a nighttime nanny, SOMEBODY was watching those kids while they were out together on the red carpet. That’s nighttime enough for me. They also have at least three women - whether they call them nannies or teachers - helping them with the children during the day. Angelina – or Brad – is never out to a doctor’s appointment with all six of them in tow.

More power to them. It allows Angelina to spend individualized attention on each of the kids during the day. And probably also catch up on her beauty rest. Make movies. Generally save the world. You go girl!

But for the vast majority of us, caring for the children, ALL the children, is only one part of being a parent. For most of us, there is also a house to clean, laundry to wash, groceries to buy and food to cook. You can’t tell me that Angelina is mopping her own floors. She has a staff that also shops, cooks, and cleans up after the meals. At least I assume so. I know I would if I were in her position.

Like I said, I LIKE Brad and Angelina. They have my other life. I like them more because I can tell they work hard and put 150% into everything they do, family, careers, humanitarian efforts. And I don’t think they lead easy lives; they live in the fast lane and are just as busy, if not more so, than the rest of us. However, I DO think it is unfair for the media to keep pointing them out as models of parenthood. There’s just no basis for comparison between them and parents living in the real world.

I like the occasional picture of Brad carrying one kid on each arm - by the way, my husband can do that too - and looking absolutely exhausted. It reminds be that under all the hype - and even with all the help - parenting is an exhausting process.

But wouldn’t it be just a little less exhausting if someone put those dinner dishes away for you?

No really, how do they do it? (Part Two)

(Written February 23, 2009)

Okay, so I’m still stuck on this one. I still haven’t found the magic answer.
I was really good today, having spent the better part of the weekend ignoring the kids and typing away at the computer like a maniac. (Funny enough, everyone seemed to have a really good weekend, supporting the theory that when mom is happy, everyone is happy.) Today I promised myself I wouldn’t even turn on the computer before I had picked up the house and spent some quality time with the older two. (Taking advantage of the fact that they have a one week school break but the twins are still in German kindergarten , the equivalent of daycare, for the morning.) Andrew and I spent an hour on his room, Ryan and I spent over an hour on hers, then we danced and played and sang a bit before I cleaned Aidan’s and Matthew’s room and picked up the kitchen while Ryan and Andrew played on their Nintendos. Ryan and I then did an hour of third grade math - with only half of the time being a battle of wills and the other half of it actually being the math itself. Both kids practiced their musical instruments and then got on the computer while I prepared lunch. We ate, I walked the dog, picked up the twins and dropped Andrew off at a friend’s house for the afternoon. Ryan spent the afternoon copying horse facts from the computer and making a book, the twins bathed, played, ate, generally dominated all of my attention - and in between I ran three loads of laundry.

I am not saying this to show off - okay maybe only a little - but by four oclock I was so exhausted that I had to make a pot of coffee to keep me going. It worked, and while the twins were happily coloring (and Ryan was still involved in her horse project) I decided to sneak off and do something for me. I called a friend.

The minute Aidan and Matthew figured out I was on the phone, they ran into the kitchen (where I was hiding) demanding cookies. See, they know I will do just about anything to shut them up when I am on the phone. They ate half a box of chocolate cookies until the dog, probably pissed off literally that he wasn’t getting any cookies, peed all over the floor. I ignored that too.

And then I thought, what would Hannah Keeley do in this situation? So I got off the phone, ran upstairs to change into a casual pants suit, found out I didn’t own any and decided on some racy lingerie under a sweat suit. I ran downstairs to find the twins already playing in the urine. I took off my glasses, quickly checked my hair, found the camera, got Ryan off of the computer and forced her to take photos of me mopping up the dog urine with a name brand paper towel. To Ryan’s immense relief (for some reason I cannot even begin to fathom she was finding the entire thing intensely embarrassing), the camera ran out of batteries after two photos or I would have made a video as well. I then spent five minutes looking for my glasses while the twins continued to play in the dog urine. By the time I got to actually cleaning up the mess, it was three times its initial size and both Aidan and Matthew needed another bath.

But I had the photos and a great idea for a great essay.

So tell me Hannah, is that the secret? I’m really beginning to think it might be. The place was covered in urine, the twins were covered in urine, Ryan was totally disgusted with me, my husband came out of the study to find me bathing the twins in my lingerie, and well…I had turned a five minute wipe-up job into an hour long ordeal. Except it really was kind of fun. And silly. And got us that much closer to bedtime without going crazy.

The magic answer for today? Don’t take it all too seriously, have some fun, and remember that noone is perfect - as a parent, as a housekeeper, as a spouse, and certainly not as all three.

Either that or a cup of coffee and a phone call to the right friend can help you make it through the rest of the evening. Or maybe a little of both.

Oh that and don’t start your career in the entertainment industry with dog urine and a pair of twins!

Triplets

February 18, 2009 by christine steinmann connor
As the mother of twins, I suffer from Baby Bjorn envy, the feeling that hits you when you see the mother of a singleton strolling contentedly down the escalator in the mall while you frantically push your double-wide super stroller down the length of the building to get to the elevator on the other side. On the other hand, I have been stopped in my tracks at the sight of a mother pushing a triplet stroller. Not in the mall, she wouldn’t fit, but just down the sidewalk. Or rather, in the street close to the sidewalk, since she wouldn’t fit on there either.
I had tears in my eyes watching her. You WANTED to be happy for her, but all I could think of was the work it had taken to get all three of those babies dressed - it was winter in Germany - and out the door. And how, even if all three of them were quiet for a moment, that the chances were more than good that at least one of them would be screaming any time soon. Or two. Three. At that point, what’s the difference? And then she was going to have to get them all out of the stroller, probably one at a time, up a flight of stairs, again one at a time, and into a small apartment where she would have to undress each one, while they were screaming, and then change diapers and get ready to feed them. With twins, I had a special nursing cushion, which was bad enough. With triplets she would need those special bottles that sit on the floor with a tube leading to a pacifier attached to the baby. She’d have to prepare the bottles - because, I am really sorry La Leche., but women were NOT meant to breastfeed three babies at once, check out the anatomy - maybe even get a chance to get out of her coat - before feeding and then starting the whole diapering process all over again.
Where’s the fun?
I’ve heard that the parents of triplets don’t remember much of the first two years. Maybe it's better that way. We all love our children, singly, in pairs or in three or more..but if there is one present I would give a parent of multiples, it is one more child. ONE. Because, after all that hard work - and I know as well as you do that there is joy in that work - you deserve a reward. You deserve to stand on the escalator, with your child in the Baby Bjorn, and have a mother of twins stare at you in envy.

Jealous (Baby Bjorn envy)

February 18, 2009 by christine steinmann connor
I have Baby Bjorn envy. It’s what a mother of twins experiences every time she has to haul two babies out of the car in the middle of a rainstorm, get them both strapped into the doublewide stroller, find an entrance into the mall that doesn’t involve stairs or escalators, and then change and nurse them both, alone, in a restroom designed for mothers with one child. Exhausted, with one screaming child and one sleeping (so that they can reverse roles again in another hour or so), pushing the darn doublewide the length of the mall just to get to the one elevator...and then you see the cute young mom in the pink sweater, languidly walking past the shop windows with her one baby sleeping in the baby carrier. The baby’s sweater matches mom’s, so that the baby comes across as just a nice -quiet- accessory to top off the picture of perfect motherly bliss. I know. I know. That picture isn’t true. Mom is exhausted too. She is bored at home and frustrated at not getting anything done besides diapers and feeding so she needs this break as badly as you do. She NEEDS the picture to convince herself that everything’s okay. Motherhood is hard and she deserves a break.
But see, SHE gets the break. SHE gets to use the escalator. SHE gets to have ALL of her babies sleeping at once. A friend of mine recently asked me how I was doing with the twins. And I told her it wouldn’t be so bad if EVERYONE had them so that someone else would be able to relate. Just after that another friend at playgroup, with ONE baby, asked if I could change one of the twins outside in the hall because of the smell. And by the time I got them both ready to head into the hall I really figured I might as well just put our coats on and just keep going. It was just too hard.
People cut you some slack for the first year and pile on the praise and admiration. But after that it’s just considered routine that you show up with two kids while they show up with one. And, preoccupied with the difficulties of caring for one toddler, noone remembers that you’re doing more than twice the work. I’m going to stop complaining because, as another friend said, loads of women would love a second child and cannot have one, but I am also going to cut myself the slack that I don’t get from others.
I’ve got double the trouble and double the joy. But I think that’s just what they tell you to keep your mind off the Baby Bjorn.

Sick kid

February 18, 2009 by christine steinmann connor
I’m home with a sick kid today and it’s fantastic. It’s one of the twins. Having only one of them home makes me realize that I haven’t totally lost my mother instinct after all. It’s just been hidden by my crowd control function.
Matthew and I have had so much fun sitting on the couch together - eating exactly the same thing off of exactly the same plates - reading the books HE has chosen, as fast or as slowly as HE would like to read them, as often as HE would like to read them. We’ve played on the floor - arranging the cars the way HE would like to, without any worry that someone else is going to come in an destroy them. Noone to pull me away. Noone to distract me.
Now that he’s had a few hours of me to himself, he is content to play on his own while I sit and write. There’s no competition and there’s no pressure.
I feel sorry for the twins. I remember what it was like to have only one child, or two children with enough of an age gap between them that they weren’t competing directly for the same needs at exactly the same time. It was fun. I enjoy the two of them as well, but most of the time really just is damage control and trying to stay one step ahead - ah, who am I kidding, I’m on a treadmill that keeps going faster and faster and faster as I try my best to keep up.
I did enjoy their first steps. But only while keeping an eye out to make sure the other one wasn’t getting into trouble at the same time. I remember the first summer at the pool, when they were one year old, with Aidan crawling up the concrete steps and Matthew toddling on the lawn. I didn’t stay by either one. I ran back and forth. And I’m enjoying their first words, but it’s hard to really pay attention to them when both are talking at once. No wonder they feel like they’re in competition for my attention. They are.
The problem with twins is that you can’t enjoy the small moments the way you can with a single child. And they don’t get the same small moments that a single child experiences. All children deserve the undivided attention of their mother. I’m sorry I can’t give that gift to two of mine.
I hear that it gets better with time. I just want them to know that I do love them each, singly, and that I would gladly have divided myself in two for them if it were possible. I tried it; it didn’t work. I can’t be two halves any more than they can. The best I can give is the whole of my one self. To the whole of their two selves. And hang on.