How important is it to know the difference

3 Small Individuals

19. But you’re their mum, surely you can tell them apart?

So the other day the thing I dreaded occurring happened; I yelled at one of my son’s “Rufus, Edwin, oh whichever one you are, stop pulling your sister’s hair”.

Ok, so I wasn’t actually terribly angry with myself, as speed was of the essence due to my poor daughter’s terrified face.  But I was a bit surprised that I hadn’t immediately known which of the boys was pulling her hair.

You see, to me, they look completely different. To the point that the other day whilst looking at photos of my lovely children, I found myself thinking ‘oh Rufus looks just like Edwin in that picture’. And then I was surprised that I had even thought that. Of course he looks like his brother. They are identical twins.

I haven’t, until very recently, read much about the theories of raising twins. I haven’t had time if I’m honest. The pregnancy was a disaster from beginning to end so I didn’t exactly have time to sit down with a book and consider my twin parenting perspective, and then they were born, and I didn’t have time sit down full stop.

So I based my parenting style on instinct, on the model of parenting I had been shown by my own Mam Bach, and through discussion with their other parent, my husband. Together he and I cobbled together a theory that we wanted to very much treat them as individuals. We didn’t want to refer to them as ‘the twins’, we certainly didn’t want to dress them the same, and we didn’t particularly want to treat them the same. Yes, we would of course love them equally, and be as generous with one as with the other, but not presume that if a certain song soothes one then it will soothe the other. We were prepared to separate them at night if one was having a sleepless night and the other in need of some peace and quiet. They had names, and we used them. We respectfully asked (with mixed success) our families to not refer to them as the twins. In our heads they just happened to be born on the same day.

Needless to say we still hear the ‘twin’ label a lot, from passers by who stop to ask the obvious ‘are they twins?’.  To the point that my daughter, following yet another passer by showing an interest in my sons, asked me if her surname was Milling. To which I replied yes, and I was proud that she knew this. However, then she asked “and is *my boys’ surname ‘Twin’ mummy?”  It was then that I realised that we had both succeeded and failed in our approach to having twins in our family. We had succeeded in so far as clearly ‘twin’ wasn’t how she primarily identified them. We had failed in so far as we obviously hadn’t managed to explain enough to our daughter what being a twin meant.

I’ve always felt it important that my sons both know I see them as separate and individual, and one of the things I found most frustrating in the early days was that I couldn’t mother them in the style that I wanted to.  Personally I am very child led to begin with, I feed on demand, allow them to sleep when they want, for as long or as little as they want, and if they need a cuddle they jolly well get one.  As the child grows so does their understanding that they aren’t the centre of the universe and that they will be ok if they have to wait a couple of minutes for their milk.  Try following those guidelines with two newborns and you soon fall foul. So there were many times when one wanted feeding and wanted feeding now, and I was unable to respond as I was still feeding the other child.  There were most certainly times when one just needed a cuddle and I couldn’t give them one as I was dealing with the other baby. I used to call them the double melt downs. But, as most parents do, I just did my best. I made sure that when I was dealing with one he knew that at that moment he was everything to his mummy. For those precious few minutes he was the centre of my universe, an extension of me, or whatever he needed to be in order to feel safe.

Now that our sons are nearly two (next week, they turn two, I can’t ruddy believe it) I am slowly gaining the odd glimpse of time within which I can turn my mind to something productive. One of the things I have been reading is (as I’ve mentioned before) Winnicott on the Child, the Family and the Outside World.  I have found this rather validating, as he also looks at these issues about a mother not being able to meet two infants’ immediate needs at once.  He says ‘as a matter of fact she will find her aim is not to treat each child alike, but to treat each child as if that one were the only one. That is to say, she will be trying to find the differences between each infant from the moment of birth.’

And here comes the bit that makes me feel bad on the odd occasion that I do get them muddled; he says ‘She, of all people, must know each from the other easily, even if she has to tell one at first by a little mark on the skin (Edwin had a tiny birth mark on his lip when he was born) or by some other trick (we left their hospital tags on at first). She will usually come to find that the two temperaments are different (when they were tiny we used to call Edwin ‘thumper’ and Rufus ‘tree hugger’ and those labels remain true even now) and that if she easily acts in relation to each as a total personality, each will develop personal characteristics.’

Winnicott goes on to talk about the huge importance of them being treated as two individuals, and this sentence really stayed with me ‘it is essential in every case that there should be no confusion among the children themselves, and for that there must be some person in their lives who is quite clear about them.’

Thankfully, despite my lack of any real research nor any vast amount of time spent reflecting on it, I seem to have stumbled upon what I consider to be a healthy approach to parenting twins.  It is quite validating to know that you aren’t getting it all wrong, even if you know you’re not getting it all right either.

I guess our job as parents of twins and a ‘singleton’ (gosh I hate that word) is to parent as though we have 3 distinct, quite separate, and rather adorable children.

*Elspeth refers to her brothers as ‘my boys’ which we think is rather lovely, a sense of ownership over them. 

Who says we like each other?

18. “At least they have a friend for life”

Do they though? Do they really automatically become the best of friends? 

Part of why this blog has laid neglected for the last couple of months, unloved and untouched, is because I, or rather ‘we’ have moved into (yet) another new stage of the experience of twins.  The boys are now starting to talk more and more, and with that have become much more able to communicate their emotions, their needs, their likes and dislikes.  They are becoming ‘sociable’. And with that there is a relationship between the two of them, and indeed between them and their sister, that is developing.

I have often wondered about the feeling of being ‘them’ and ‘other’. What is it like to be a part of that unit, the casualness with which they have been forced to adopt a play mate. I often wonder how my daughter feels about knowing that each and every day they do everything together, and yet whilst she spends a lot of time with them she also does quite a lot of her own thing. They share a room together. She doesn’t. They nap together. She doesn’t. They bath together. She didn’t, but recently I have started to bathe them, feed them, read to them, as the three of them. 

So I started reflecting on the friendship between the two boys. Is it right to assume that they have any good reason to even like each other?

And so I took to reading Winnicott’s book, ‘The Child, The Family, and the Outside World’.  Specifically his chapter on twins, of course. Needless to say it is highly likely that I will make reference to this book in future meanderings. He speaks a lot of sense.  And indeed it was him who wrote, in response to the question ‘do twins like each other?’, “Often they accept each other’s company, enjoy playing together, and hate to be separated, and yet fail to convince one that they love each other.  Then one day they discover that they hate each other like poison, and at last the possibility that they may get to love each other has come.” 

At first I thought blimey, that sounds a bit dramatic, hate each other like poison? I jolly hope not. But on reading further and exploring it a bit more the point he is trying to make is this…. (or at least I think and please feel free to correct me)… when you are a twin, you don’t get to chose the person you spend the majority of your time with for the formative years, they are ‘chosen’ for you, so how can you know if you love them when they have always been there and you have never had to question it. Indeed, it also seems silly to assume that they will even like each other, given that whilst they may of course be identical, their personalities will not. One wouldn’t assume that you could throw two random people, who happen to be born on the same day, together, for weeks on end, and just expect them to get on and become best buddies. So why would we assume that to be the case for twins?

Very interestingly, Winnicott ends the chapter on twins by saying “So it is important that you should not take it too much for granted that your twins will want to spend their lives together. They may, but they may not, and they may even be grateful to you, or to some chance thing like measles, for separating them, it being much easier to become a whole person alone than in company with one’s twin.”

Right then.  

My A-Z of twins.

My A-Z of twins...

A is for Ample. Ample tiny toes to gaze at.
B if for Bottoms. Two squidgy wrinkly impossibly cute bottoms.
C is for Care. Lots and lots of care required.
D is for Dental. Two sets of teeth to be teethed.
E is for Equipment. A house taken over with all the relevant equipment designed to make life easier, when all you actually need is an extra pair of hands.
F is for Fingers. Not just your average ten fingers and thumbs, but instead a whopping 20 fingers and thumbs to kiss and hold.
G is for Giggle. Twice as many baby giggles to soak up.
H is for Happy. Happy to see two sets of first steps, hear two first words.
I is for Individual. Two individual very small people, no matter how much they look the same.
J is for Joy. Twice the trouble, double the joy.
K is for Kisses. Lots of snotty slobbery but totally lovely kisses.
L is for Love. More love than you could ever have imagined. Times two.
M is for Mother. The most important yet challenging role you will ever have.
N is for Nappies. Lots and lots and lots of nappies. And then a few more.
O is for Ordeal. Each day will require courage and endurance in order to reach the other side safely.
P is for Practice. It all gets easier the more you practice, especially leaving the house.
Q is for Quiet. Something that you will now treasure.
R is for Respect. Something you now automatically get. Especially from other mothers.
S is for Sleep. The holy grail.
T is for Two. My new favourite number.
U is for Umpteen. The number of times you will hear 'you've got your hands full'.
V is for Very. Very special.
W is for Wait. A word you will come to use multiple times a day.
X is for Xerophilous. You will learn to cope for long periods without refreshments.
Y is for You. Make sure 'you' is not lost.
Z is for Zombi.

17. "That's my worst nightmare" 

This one was actually said to me the other day.  I was stood outside the cafe, in the sunshine, waiting for my take away (and now daily necessity) coffee, with my 3 smiling happy children, on our way to the swings for some fun. A mother was sat outside said cafe, with her one adoring cute daughter, and they were enjoying a little smackeral of something nice.

And so it started (some what predictably at first).

Her: "Are they twins?"

Me: "Yes, this one is Edwin, this one is Rufus." (I like to introduce them by name rather than 'the twins'.)

Her: "Are they identical?"

Me: "Yes, very much so."

Her: "Is that one yours too?" (points at curly mopped 3 year old)

Me: "Yes, this one is my daughter, Elspeth. She is 3"

Her: "Oh, that is my worst nightmare, that that might happen to me"

Me: silence

Her: "now that I have her (points to previously mentioned adoring cute daughter), I don't know what I would do if I had twins now!"

Me: silence

Her: "I don't know how you cope"

Me: silence

Her: (sensing she might have just said the wrong thing) "I suppose you just do?"

Me: "Yes, you just have to" (takes now arrived daily necessity also known as coffee, and walks off to the swings to enjoy someone else's idea of a nightmare, also known as my lovely children.)

To be honest, at times, it has been my worst nightmare too. But to actually tell another mother that her life, the one she is living quite well, and doing alright with all things considered, is your worst nightmare? Well, let us just say, it isn't the kindest nor most appropriate thing to be saying. I am just grateful my children aren't old enough to understand what she had just said about them. I am just grateful that my children and I enjoyed our day at the swings, helped my mummy's caffeine intake. 

You know you're a parent of twins when...

... you have heard 'you've got your hands full' more times than you care to mention.

... you open your wardrobe to find it stocked high with your latest bulk buy of nappies and wipes because they were on special offer so you had to buy the entire shelf.

... you can never (and from my experience I mean never) wing it. You have to be prepared for every eventuality, and you have to preempt their every need, and continuously plan ahead. There is no such thing as 'seeing how the day goes'. It is pretty much mapped out, minute by minute.

... you know of, and use, the word 'singleton'.

... you have owned at least two double buggies, and don't consider spending over £500 to take a step closer to the constant quest for 'the solution' excessive.

... you don't have carpets under, or anywhere remotely near, the dining table.

... there is no such thing as 'popping out' and instead even the smallest of ventures requires packing and taking a very full (at times overflowing) bag with you, containing many bottles, ludicrous amounts of nappies, a silly amount of wipes, and a large variety of snacks catering for diverse tastes.

... you consider a 'night out' to be a lager shandy and a burger and chips consumed within 1.5 hours in the local whilst nervously watching your mobile phone. (And that is on the nights you've actually fooled some poor mad soul into look after your offspring).

... you have mastered the art of holding a conversation without maintaining eye contact, simultaneously talking whilst doing a silent headcount, and taking regular breaks to go and rescue a child from the top of a climbing frame. 

... you can't remember the last time your life wasn't accompanied by the soundtrack of your washing machine permanently humming away.

... you have muscles in your arms that you previously didn't know existed.

... your local shop is all out of tunnocks teacakes.

... you have already rearranged your furniture 6 times since the twins came along, in a bid to find the optimum arrangement to keep your children safe, and are yet to admit that regardless of where you put the shelves, they will most definitely climb them.

... you find yourself saying 'we must....' several times a day, and despite feeling like you are constantly working through a list of things to be done, the 'to do' list never seems to get any shorter.

... your threshold for what you consider to pass as 'clean clothes' has gotten considerably lower than years gone by.

... your nice 'saved for sunday best' dresses are dusty. Your idea of 'dressing up' involves brushing your hair and perhaps, on a really good day, applying some mascara.

You know you're a parent of twins when you've most definitely, without a doubt, got your hands full...  

16. "You deserve a medal"

Oh yes I do. Indeed I do. For a long time I tried very hard to deny the fact that my life was different to any other parent who is blessed with (or decides to have, or ends up with) 3 children. The fact that two of them were born on the same day was neither here nor there. 

Just a detail really.

Oh more fool me. I even ranted about it on facebook at times. It wasn't always an agreed with position. I think I know now why. 

Having twins is blooming hard work. Don't get me wrong, kids are hard. I am not taking anything away from the daily battles that many of my comrades (other mothers) enter into, and at times even win. Babies, children, offspring, irrespective of how many you have, are somewhat a challenge.

However, there is something about having two of them, going through all of those stages together, that renders you, the parents, worthy of a gold medal!

Here are just some of the reasons why me, and any other parent of twins (and most certainly of triplets) deserves to take home the gold...

1.) newborn twins don't understand the simple concept of 'taking it in turns', especially when it comes to feeding. They both think they are the single most important need around, and boy they don't mind telling you about it either. 

2.) twins tend to teeth either (a) at the same time, or (b) one after the other. Either way, ouch. You either have twice the screaming going on simultaneously, or you have a prolonged period of sleepless nights and grouchy miserable babies for company.

3.) nappies. Lots of them. Day in. Day out. Nappies. I am so done with changing poo bottoms. At least if you have 3 children one after the other, you'd hope that one would be on his or her way out of nappies around the time the second or third child arrives. I know that toilet training isn't without its challenges (my daughter has recently accomplished this) as you need to be within arms length of a toilet (or a vestibule that could act as a toilet) at all times.

4.) wipes. Lots of them. See above. You seriously need to take out another mortgage.

5.) you can't even pop out for a pint of milk without being stopped and asked a silly question, or being reminded that you do indeed have your hands full.

6.) going to playgroup requires the ability to be in two places at one time (that is unless you are of course blessed with those really rare lesser spotted twins who stick to each other). Whilst one of my darling boys is not satisfied with playing nicely at the water station but rather is trying really hard to climb into the water station, the other has climbed up the climbing frame and of course instantly gravitated to the 'dangerous end' (you know, the end that has that drop with a metal pole in front of it just in case at some point a child might like to pretend to be a fireman but actually it just serves as a constant source of fear for anyone with children under 2 years of age). If you're sensible and have children at different ages you'll (hopefully) find that your new one doesn't come along until your first one has just about grasped a basic sense of danger.

7.) bathing them becomes a bit of a logistical nightmare. Do you opt for bathing them together which basically involves getting really very wet and most of the shampoo ending up all over you rather than their hair, or opt for bathing them one at a time which means leaving one unsupervised or at the very best loosely supervised by his bigger sister, which ultimately leaves to finding the unbathed twin sitting on the dining table having taken a bite out of every apple. Neither is great. I tend to go for the double bathe and just accept I am going to get wet. If you, unlike me, had your children one at a time, you could probably (hopefully) bathe the eldest, pop them in front of the tv and then safely bathe the second. (Ok, that one might be a bit optimistic, but hey...)

8.) dinner time becomes a daily battle. Rather than my younger child being positively influenced by my older child, and wanting desperately to emulate their older sibling being in a hurry to master the art of cutlery, instead my older child has regressed and returned to using only her fingers as instruments with which to eat, and throwing any unwanted food onto the floor, because why be in the minority? If two are doing it, I'm not going to be the only one who doesn't. 

9.) buggy buying becomes a nightmare... because the one question all parents expecting twins want the answer to is 'what buggy do I need?' In fact this was one of the first things I became fixated on following the news... I guess it was almost like, if I can solve the problem of the buggy then everything else will fall into place. The truth is a little more disappointing - there is no perfect solution to transporting twins about, especially if you have an older sibling to consider. We are now on double buggy 3 and have probably spent close to £2,000 pursuing the perfect solution. It is an expensive business. I've only met one couple so far who have bought and stuck to one buggy... 

10.) this one is simple - twins is a little bit like running a marathon each and every day... every day, come the children's bedtime, I am spent. I am physically exhausted, I am emotionally exhausted, even my clothes look tired by bedtime. So I don't know about you, but since I run a marathon each and every day, I think I deserve a medal for that. For perseverance, for stamina, for commitment, for dedication, and just for getting up each day, brushing my teeth, and doing it again.

(So far my gold medals have included a few pairs of shoes, a fair few boxes of praline chocolate, and the odd bunch of flowers). 

If you, like me, run that marathon each and every day, you too deserve a medal or two. Make sure you get some... it gives you a little more motivation to just run that little bit harder, knowing at the end of the race is a wonderful pair of shoes you've lusted over, or the perfect box of chocolates to indulge in.

If you know someone like me, someone who's running that marathon each and every day, pop in a medal next time you're passing. It doesn't have to be sparkly or expensive, it can be simple, but whatever medal you chose, I bet they will wear it with pride.

15. "I bet you wouldn't change a thing though?"

Yes. I would. 

I would change the fact that my daughter was still so young when we fell pregnant with twins.

I would change the fact that at 19 weeks I nearly went into labour, leaving me with a difficult decision as to whether to have a cervical stitch put in and risk causing a miscarriage, or not have it and risk delivering them before they were viable.

I would change the fact that my decision to have the stitch meant I was no longer able to lift my young daughter anymore.

I would change the fact that I then went on to develop pre-eclampsia, causing me to end up in hospital for large chunks of the pregnancy, meaning my daughter only got to see me for very short periods of time.

I would change the fact that my sons were born with hypospadias - meaning that shortly one of them will have to undergo an operation.

I would change the fact that despite recovering well from the c-section I had to be taken back into hospital due to unusual bleeding requiring IV antibiotics.

I would change the fact that at only a few weeks old I had to see one of my new babies blue and floppy and rushed into hospital*. 

I would change the fact that I then had to sit at his bedside watching a ventilator breathe for him, as he was too tired to breathe for himself. If I could have given him my breath, I would have done.

I would change the fact that 36 hours after my poorly son returned home, my other son also stopped breathing and had to be rushed into hospital, meaning yet again sitting at a bedside watching the wonders of modern technology and medicine.

I would change the fact that I now know and understand so much about ventilation, apnea, breathing alarms, and so on. All things that a mother shouldn't have to find out.

I would change the fact that they then spent several months getting wheezy chest after wheezy chest.

 

I wouldn't, however, change the fact that I had twins.

I also wouldn't change the vast amount of support we all received during those difficult times.

I wouldn't change the fact that my dad was holding my son when he stopped breathing, and that my mother was there to breathe life back into him.

I wouldn't change the endless playdates others have taken my daughter on in order to give us a bit of space or rest.

I wouldn't change the skill and expertise of the doctors and nurses who have cared for us over these times.

I wouldn't change how robust my daughter has become as a result of all of this.

I wouldn't change some of the friendships I have developed along the way, people I might not have otherwise known who have become very important people to me.



* I just wanted to reassure other parents of twins, my boys didn't randomly stop breathing. They both had acute bronchilitus which led to life threatening apnea. The doctors said it is very rare for bronchilitus to cause that and at worst baby's normally just need oxygen, not ventilation. By all means fret over your babies and watch them closely, poke them regularly to check they're ok. But don't do so more as a consequence of my experiences. My experiences were not the norm. They were the exception.

14. "You obviously don't have a tv!"

Ermmm... yes I do. And I watch it. A lot. Most evenings in fact. It is my escapism from my reality most of the time. Plus it also comes in handy as a children's entertainer when I need one.

I know what people are getting at, that I have lots of kids (well, 3) and that therefore I must have been bored and so got busy - if you know what I mean... 

I need to be careful what I say here as who knows, one day my kids might google something and stumble across this blog... but... we conceived the boys by accident. Ok, so we are both adults, and we knew that if we weren't careful there might, maybe, be consequences. We had decided to have another child in the future, but I had just gone freelance, my husband was planning to go freelance, we had just moved house and finally had some space to enjoy, and 'spare rooms' (having spent the first year of our daughter's life cooped up in a one bedroom basement flat, space felt good) so all in all it was not the ideal time to be making a baby, let alone two. 

Therefore I often feel completely justified in having a right old moan about my life - I didn't choose to get pregnant, and I most certainly didn't choose to have two of them at once. It was thrust upon me. And I don't personally sign up for the 'god bless me with twins because he knew I could cope' line of thought.

I imagine (and I can only begin to imagine as I haven't walked in their shoes) but it must be really tough if you've fought long and hard for your children, been through rounds of IVF to finally conceive, and to have carried twins... I can imagine that it might make one feel guilty for then having days where you resent them. I might be completely wrong. Maybe you don't. But that is what I often wonder. How hard it might be to be completely honest and say 'some days I wish I hadn't had twins'. I know full well that in the early days I had days when I felt like that. 

People use to say 'oh but you wouldn't change a thing would you' - and in my head I said 'yes I bloody would'.  It doesn't for one minute mean I didn't and don't love them. I have always loved them. I have always wanted only the best for them. This has been reflected in some of the difficult decisions I have had to make along the way. But despite loving them, there are indeed moments when I have wished I didn't love them, wished I hadn't had them, wish I had never met them - because now I have met them I can't ignore them nor abandon them... And I suspect this is true irrespective of whether you conceived them with IVF or the missionary position. I just wonder how much easier it is to admit this when it is the latter?

How to put together a 'rescue package' for a mother of twins or more.

You know how sometimes you just know that someone is teetering on the edge of coping and not coping? They are just about holding it together, just about managing to juggle with fire, but one bad move and they're going to get their fingers burnt?

Well, if you know someone in this situation. Some one who is just having a bit of a crap week... why don't you put together a little rescue package for them - it might make the difference between it being a difficult week, and a really impossible week.

So what goes into this rescue package? Here goes...

Item 1 - A box of tunnocks tea cakes. 

If you have read previous posts you will know I always judged how bad a day was based on how many tunnocks tea cakes I had eaten. They come in handy. They are full of well needed sugar, and a bit of a guilty pleasure. Comfort eating can be a mum's best friend.

Item 2 - Two pairs of baby socks. 

With the instructions to remove said socks during a particularly bad moment - there is nothing quite like the site of small weeny weeny toes to make your heart go all soft and remind you just how gorgeous that noisy pooy tired little thing really is. 

Item 3 - A box of nelson's teething powders. 

These were my god send. We called them 'baby crack'. They seem to have the ability to soothe even the most grumpiest of babies, and if all else fails mummy can neck the lot and may find them soothing. 

Item 4 - A tooth brush. 

With the instructions to only aim; to brush one's teeth each day. Anything beyond this is a bonus. (thank you Marjorie for this one).

Item 5 - A teabag. 

This one will go well with the tunnock's teacakes.

Item 6 - Some paracetamol. 

Some days just hurt more than others. Paracetamol probably won't make the blindest bit of difference, but some days it just felt good to feel I was trying to do something. 

Item 7 - A bag of mixed nuts. 

(unless of course they have a nut allergy in which case skip straight to item 8). With the instructions that; a handful of these should be consumed at around 4pm, just before the evening slog begins. 

Item 8 - Two white babygrows. 

You won't believe the amount of clothes two babies can get through. And whilst all those lovely patterned ones are gorgeous to look at, they can be a pain to wash. There is nothing quite like a big pile of plain white baby clothes that you can just throw into a hot wash and not worry about them coming out pink or gray. Also handy to have two on hand in case of emergencies. Of which there will be a lot of in the early days.

Item 9 - A pack of muslins. 

I literally went through millions of these. Despite continuously washing them over and over there was never a clean one to hand. So chances are, whilst opening said rescue package mummy will also be reaching for yet another muslin, and finding them inside the package will reduce doing two things to one. Leaving mummy a little more time to shove item 1 into her mouth.

Item 10 - A babysitting token. 

The one feeling that is rather overwhelming to begin with is that your life is over and you will never be you again. Knowing that you have something to look forward to in the future, a night out with your partner / husband / wife / important other will help you through. Obviously this item is rather dependent on (a) your ability to look after small children (b) your distance from recipient of said package and (c) how much your friend trusts you with (a). If this is not a suitable token, you could instead give them a 'one home cooked meal' token, or perhaps 'a trip to the supermarket' token. Or similar. Use your imagination. But you get the general idea - it is a promise to do something practical and helpful for the family at a time in the future when they think it will help them the most.

These are just a few of the things that would have or did help me through. I'd be interested to know what other items others would have liked included in a rescue package?

13. "Is one a boy and one a girl?"

"No... they are both boys."

"Oh, why aren't they dressed the same then?"

The subject of whether or not to dress twins identically is actually a bit controversial... Despite having so much in common with other parents of multiples, one thing we don't all agree on is whether or not to dress the same, or different.

Personally I am in the 'dress them differently' camp. That isn't to say I think parents who dress them the same are wrong, far from it. Just like any parenting decision we make, there are a number of options available, and many of them equally as right, but it is a case of choosing the one that best fits you.  

As you know from previous posts, we coded our children - one in stripes, one not.  Despite being very adamant that I was not going to make my two boys matching, I have noticed how hard I find it to dress them completely differently! By that I mean they tend to both be wearing jeans and a t-shirt, or both be in dungarees, or both be in cotton shorts, or both be in cords... all be it different colours and patterns. I don't know why that is? When my own personal philosophy with identical twins is that they are identical enough already so why then dress them the same (unless I plan to make my daughter dress the same too), but yet I can't quite let go of them matching!

• Is it a desire to have everything aesthetically pleasing in my life? Everything nice and coordinated to look at and feel tidy (in as much as one can feel tidy with 3 small children). 

• Is it that I think it just looks far cuter when they match? (It does sometimes look quite cute when they match).

• Is it a practical thing about washing clothes and having piles of the same types of clothes makes it easier? (it doesn't... nothing makes the piles of washing easier). 

• Is it being lazy, by the time I've thought through one outfit I can't be bothered to think through a second so I just repeat the outfit? (I can't honestly say I spend a lot of time thinking through outfits - theirs or mine).

• Or is it none of the above? (quite possibly).

I can't honestly tell you why I feel the need to keep them matching but different. I've tried to break away from it, but it just felt wrong. So there we go, whilst I profess to be very much in the 'they're already identical so give them a chance at being individual' school of thought, it seems subconsciously I advocate and promote their identical-ness. (that isn't a proper word, but it is still a good word).

My top ten tips for surviving multiples of children.

1. Watch what you eat...

You've just had twins, so you really ought to be watching what you eat. Watch to make sure you eat. Comfort eat (I used to say I knew how bad my day was based on how many tunnocks teacakes I'd had that day) but make sure you eat plenty of those foods that give you energy (like bananas and nuts and what not). Trust me, when those kids get mobile, you'll be running around like a mad thing, discovering muscles you didn't know you had, and generally effortlessly getting fit.

 

2. Buy a stopwatch...

Ok, so you don't actually need a stop watch for this one, but this was a really good tip I was given when I had just one baby, but boy was it relevant when I had two. When you're entering a double melt down, which are a common occurrence in those early days, keep an eye on the time. Those melt downs when you're in them feel like they've been going on ALL day. But if you time them you'll (hopefully) see that they're actually a lot shorter, and normally no longer than 20 minutes - or at least that's how long it used to take me to prepare and administer 2 bottles of milk.

3. Hide

I have noticed that now the boys are playing, they sometimes play better when they think I'm not about - luckily for me I have a glass door* between my kitchen and my living room. So once a day, I go into the kitchen, make myself a cup of tea, get their dinner started, load the dishwasher - allowing them to have some (supervised) playtime together when they're not squabbling over mummy cuddles. It's good for me, and it's good for their development as independent little people.

 

 4. Loosen up

By this I mean learn to just let things go a bit. If you're the sort of person that keeps the perfect show home - take a break from it. Whilst I do agree that routine is an essential way of surviving twinhood, don't be too hard on yourself and expect a routine from day one. Those routines we all aspire to take a while to develop, implement, and bed down. If at first they sleep at different times then make the most of some precious one to one time. The routine will come in time, work towards it. But don't be so focused on it that you make the early days harder than they need to be.

 

5. Set your expectations low

In the early days, consider brushing your teeth a major achievement. If you brush your hair too you deserve a medal (more on those shortly). Do not put too much pressure on yourself, you haven't just got your hands full, you've also got your day crammed full of nappy changes, getting small people dressed, preparing and administering feeds (or just feeds for those of you that breastfeed - and you guys get my utmost respect), cuddling and rocking small people and mopping up sick. Surprisingly you just don't have a lot of spare minutes between any of these activities left for putting a wash on, or getting the dinner ready. So be realistic about what you can achieve each day, otherwise it'll leave you frustrated.

 

6. Don't watch supernanny

Don't watch too many of those programs aimed at showing parents how to parent better. For starters, have you ever noticed how most families she helps have at least one set of multiples in them? What is with that? But mostly, because they are worst case scenarios. Your children will (most likely) never be that naughty... so why raise your already elevated anxiety levels. The future will come, your parenting skills will grow as the children do. Don't panic yourself by watching the worst cases around.

7. It's ok to not like your children at times

It is really important that you hear this... It is ok to not like your children all the time. It does NOT mean you don't always love them. But at times, they are going to push all your buttons and make you feel a bit rubbish. During these times you probably won't like them very much. Forgive yourself. It is ok. You do still love them. Parenting is a constant conflict between seeing to their needs whilst not completely ignoring your own. This is hard. At times it means you will feel in conflict with your children. But you do and will always love them. (and if you really don't then completely ignore tip 6 and get in touch with supernanny).

 

8. Feel the fear, and do it anyway.

Going out and about with just you, your buggy, and your twins (and of course a whole heap of nappies and wipes and two full sets of clothes plus gallons of milk if you're not bf'ing) feels really really daunting to begin with. In the early days it seems to take as long getting ready to leave the house, nay longer, than you are actually out for. Not to mention the fear of coping with your two babies, which is hard enough in the house, never mind with the public watching just waiting to make a daft comment or two. However, go out you must. I promise you it is worth it. Slowly you get much quicker at 'mobilising' (as my dear friend calls it) and you no longer fear your darling angels showing you up. In part because you get better at anticipating the parts of the day that are more prone to double meltdowns, and in part because you get better at dealing with them. Plus, we all know motion and new environments cheer even the grumpiest of children up. 

 

9. Accept help.

Hopefully you will be inundated with offers of help in the beginning. Capitalise on this. Do not be too proud or stubborn to accept it. Simply manage the offers and make sure that people are actually helping. Lots of friends and family will want to come and visit the babies, allow them, but when they are there make sure they put the kettle on themselves and make you a well needed cuppa, that you can enjoy while they have a cuddle. If friends want to visit, ask them to stop by the shop to pick up some dinner, some milk, some teabags, and a box of tunnocks teacakes. If you have family around, don't be shy in asking them to put on a wash. To be honest, this time last year, I'd have asked the bin man to help me! My cleaner (yes, I know, but I had 3 under 3, what else was I going to do!) fed a baby when she arrived each Thursday morning. Eventually the offers of help peter out, and you'll be wishing you still had so many offers. Make the most of it... people can be very kind and are usually very happy to help you in return for some lovely cuddles.

 

10. Give yourself some medals.

This is really important that you reward yourself for all the hard work you do. Make sure you get occasional treats. Or, more importantly, make sure others get them for you. There is nothing quite like the odd pair of new shoes, or a large slab of your favourite cake, or a nice massage, to make you feel better about the worst of weeks. The last 17 months have been made much more survivable thanks to my kurt geiger sneakers, the odd bunch of flowers, and numerous chocolate brownies from konditor and cook - all my medals, received with pride.




* for you worriers out there; yes it is toughened and laminated

12. "Wow, twins, rather you than me."

Do you know what, when I first found out I was having twins, I would rather it had been anyone other than me. Anyone at all. So long as it wasn't happening to me. I was terrified and full of dread. It felt, at times, like a big burden. I was in shock. I'm not proud that I felt like that. But I did. 

The sonographer scanned me and said; 'well the good news is your pregnant, and the other good news is there are two of them.'

My response was; 'that is NOT good news'.

But now, when people say 'rather you than me' (and thankfully it hasn't happened too too often), my immediate response (in my head) is "yes, I'm glad it happened to me and not to you". 

I guess that says it all, and answers the question most twin parents ask, of 'does it get easier?'