Stranger Danger: My Kids Have Helmets

Who knew that Larry's "Helmet" nickname (thank you, T-Bag) was actually a premonition? 

After 4 1/2 months of pushing, prodding, and pulling both the pediatricians and physical therapists, Ren and Grayden received their cranial remolding helmets. I ran right out to the store and decorated them with vinyl stickers while we spent 5 days adjusting to the helmets by wearing them on an abbreviated schedule. The babies took to the helmets without too many issues (although the first night was absolute torture for all three of us). 

The helmets are worn 23 hours a day. In the hour that they are off, I have to clean them with shampoo and rubbing alcohol, and give both babies a bath. I am somehow managing to squeeze this two hour process into the hour long window while still managing to let the boys play for a few minutes helmet-free. It would be very tempting to just set the helmets aside if not for the exorbitant amount of money we paid for them and the amazing results we are already starting to see. Both boys are developing rounder heads and the bulges on their foreheads have been pushed back. The helmets are worth every penny.

The reaction to the helmets has been somewhat comical (or rude, depending on how I'm feeling that day). Most people assume that my children have a serious mental condition. When we were at Walmart one day, only Grayden had the helmet on (as Ren was recovering from a blister). He is now 4 pounds heavier than Ren, but he is clearly still an infant. The cashier lady looked at me, pointed at the helmeted Gray, and asked "Is he two years old?" What she didn't say, but rather implied, was "Is your two year old mentally disabled?" Luckily these comments do not bother me, but I know some mothers who might have had to be escorted out of Walmart given a similar situation involving their children.

So what if I like to roll under the coffee table?

When directly asked about the helmets, I am trying out a variety of lines. The challenge is in not laughing when I say them.

Curious Stranger: "Why are your babies wearing helmets?"

Smart Alec Mother: "They are training for the Superbowl." Or "They keep falling out of the stroller." Or "They are doing their own stunts in their next movie." Or "They like to ram their heads into walls." Or, my favorite, "I am a really bad driver." Feel free to suggest new ones. I'll let you know how they go.

The best comment came from a grandpa in Charleston. I am not sure if it was the spectacle of twins or the spectacle of  helmets, but when we walked into a Five Guys Burgers, every eye in the restaurant fell on us. I felt like I was living a line from a Bob Seger song as I tried to pretend I was not aware of their gawking, but even the boys could feel the weight of their stares. Still unbound by the laws of social behavior, Ren and Grayden stared back, mouths open. The only guy in the place who didn't pick up on the awkwardness came rambling over to talk to my mom about grandkids. The first thing he said was "Too cool! I didn't know they made helmets for babies." He seemed to think we put them on the boys to avoid collisions with furniture, walls, and each other.

And the funniest thing is that these helmets do serve a dual purpose. I rarely worry about the boys when they are helmeted. They no longer need pillows behind them when they sit and I don't worry about them hitting their heads on the coffee table anymore. I've gone so far as to put their helmets back on them early after a bath if they want to play on the floor.

And speaking of playing on the floor, we have a cruiser. Ren has mastered the art of crawling, both forward and backward! I cannot leave him alone for a minute or he'll be splashing in the dog's water bowl or eating Larry's fishing tackle (no, not really. At least not yet, anyway). The helmet makes his crawling especially adorable, as he has to tilt his head far back to see you over the rim of the helmet. So slap, slap, slap, he moves forward three feet, stops and tips his head back to make sure you're still at the end of his projected path. Those little brown eyes searching for you over the rim just about make your heart melt. 

As for big blue eyes, Grayden is still rolling and scooting where he wants to go, but he's starting to realize that his brother is mobile. Now that Ren can move, I'll often find the two of them next to each other giggling over something only they can understand.

As a special treat on the weekends, we've been relieving the boys of their helmets for an hour or two while we go swimming. Their propensity for water probably shouldn't have surprised us, but it did, when both boys started kicking and paddling within minutes of entering the pool. Bath time has become a new adventure now that they think they know how to swim, and I end up about as wet as they do.

 

Maybe the next time I'm asked about the helmets, I'll say that I have two future water polo players in training.