Seeing Double

The plaque above my stove, which has gathered a nice layer of dust, reads “Martha Stewart doesn’t live here.” I’ve found comfort in those words over the past ten months since my monozygotic twin boys were born. This past weekend they were finally baptized. I’ve joked with friends that it was surprising that our little monsters didn’t begin smoldering when the holy water touched their foreheads.

A Rough Start

The first three months were almost unbearable. I developed Preeclampsia in the last few weeks of my pregnancy. After delivering the boys, I began having kidney pain and ended up back in the hospital. My husband was left at home alone for three hours, sitting in a rocking chair with one screaming newborn on each shoulder, until my mother could arrive from Chicago to rescue him. We kept her hostage for three months that summer by blocking her vehicle in our driveway.

It also didn’t work in our favor that we didn’t know that there was a difference in which formula to use with babies the weight of flour sacks with preterm digestive systems. At first, the boys could only hold a couple of ounces in their stomachs at a time. It took an hour to feed and burp them and then more time to coax them to sleep. When all was said and done, our little family could barely find time to eat, shower, or find essential sleep in those forty-five minute increments of reprieve. We were in survival mode and struggling to keep our sanity.

What I've Learned

There are so many things I’ve learned through this still unfolding adventure that it would take weeks to include it all. I learned that getting any kind of sleep was more important than brushing my teeth, eating, or even using the bathroom. I’ve also learned to ask for help from friends and family, even when they’ve stopped thinking you need the help. I’ve come to the realization that it makes people feel good to help you out when they’re able to.

But one thing I’ve learned for sure: trying to get twins to sit still for a picture is like trying to staple Jell-o to a tree. At ten months, they’ve just begun crawling well, learning to pull themselves up, and they’re getting into everything. I don’t know why we bother buying second-hand toys when we could just supply the kids with empty containers of wipes, a full Tic Tac dispenser, and a shiny roll of holiday ribbon to keep them preoccupied. (Yes, they’re choking hazards but I keep a close eye on them.)

When they came home from the hospital, not quite five pounds each, I can recall thinking how terrifying it was to have two sets of small dark eyes staring at me in the middle of the night, like aliens. Their heads were the size of oranges back then, yet now I call them my bowling balls, each baby weighing over nineteen pounds. It wasn’t that long ago when I agonized over when they would first roll over. None of the books ever seemed to mention the average milestones for multiples (which are often behind those of singleton babies). These days I find myself thinking about what devices would happily and securely contain them.

Enough

After ten months of being a twin mom, I continue to repeat the Seinfeld mantra, “Serenity Now”; I never seem to have enough appendages to lift, rotate, and comfort both children at once. I’ve thought of patenting a catapult to deliver each child from my arms in the rocking chair, securely into their cribs without them ever waking up causing my ever-aging back to go into spasms.

Lately, when I’m at work and away from my munchkins, I think about all the “enoughs” that I’m so blessed to have. Aside from having changed enough exploding diapers to be certified in toxic waste removal, suctioned enough noses to have been labeled the “Nose Nazi”, and been thrown up on enough times to wonder why Similac doesn’t pay me to wear their product as an advertisement, I have other “enoughs” I wouldn’t change for the world. With each week that passes and I see my babies talk, smile, giggle, and touch one another, I ask myself, “How did I get lucky enough?”

When I can button children’s clothing at five a.m. with my non-dominant hand and burp and feed both babies at once I wonder if I’m talented enough to be on the next talent search reality show. Most of all I wonder if I’m providing both children enough love and snuggles but when I see two happy, little faces crawling towards me I think, “How could I have ever felt my life before these children was ‘enough’?”

Defining Success

My personal goal this year is to throw away the baby books and begin using my own measuring stick instead of comparing my children’s progress against the average child. My new measuring stick will measure the amount of smiles we can fit in for the day, not the developmental accomplishments normal for their age group. I’ll also develop another definition for success. A “successful” goes like this: The boys will have had a one-hour nap in the afternoon and I will have put all the clothes back in their rightful places. If I really want to impress myself I’ll have defrosted something from the freezer for dinner, vacuumed at least two rooms, and even dusted something. If I want to scare my husband into thinking that I’m running away to Mexico I’ll have my hair down from a ponytail, with makeup and deodorant on, and I’ll be wearing something that doesn’t have a formula stain on it. (If I ever manage to find enough time to shave my legs on a daily basis he’d probably think I’m having an affair.)

If I can manage those things and the house is still standing, the kids’ are relatively clean, and there isn’t a big burly guy in my driveway trying to repossess my car because I’ve forgotten to make payments, then I’m doing pretty okay. My amazing husband, who puts up with constant memory lapses and an empty refrigerator, is more of a partner and teammate to me than ever before. Giving all of the best parts of myself to my family and keeping everyone healthy, happy, and fed is really all that anyone could ever ask for. My perfectionist personality has had to be altered to keep my sanity since having twins, and I believe I’m a better person for it.

Nikki is the busy mother of ten-month-old identical twin boys and works full time, along with her husband, to pay for their formula.