It Gets Better

Ren and Gray were about 2 months old when I took them to Target for the first time. I had them in their car seats, loaded into the "bus"---a tandem stroller that was a sight to see---and was avoiding the attention that both the twins and stroller garnered by moving through the narrow pathways of the departments instead of through the wide aisles in the middle of the store.

The "Bus"

I was longingly looking at the new John Sanford novel (what new mom has time for reading?) when I felt many eyes upon us. I looked up, ready for the standard questions ("Yes, they are twins." "No, they do not look anything alike." "Yes, I used fertility drugs."), when I found myself gazing into the eyes of a woman who knew. There were two little girls in her cart, both about a year old. She didn't ask any questions, she just said, "It gets better."

Tears welled up in my eyes. "I promise," she said, "it gets better and one day you'll be so thankful there are two." I managed a weepy thank you, but we did not exchange any other words. I don't know if it was mother's intuition that made her stop or just seeing a new twin mama and remembering how it felt. But her simple gesture was a lifeline. I clung to her words for months, in the middle of the night, when I had been up four times for 2 hours each, and in the daytime, when one baby screamed while I tended to the other. "It gets better," I would whisper and sometimes even believe it was true.

Well Target Twin Mom, you were right. Every three months we seem to hit a new milestone on the "better" meter. At 3 months, the boys started sleeping for longer stretches at night, and some of my sanity was restored. At 6 months, we were able to institute nap routines that led to my little squirt sleeping through the night. And now at 9 months, the boys have started to play together. I encourage independent play throughout the day, and will sneak into the kitchen or office while the boys are in the playroom. When I return, they are always within two feet of each other, even if they are playing with different toys. When one moves to a far corner of the room, the other picks up his toy and follows. I guess there is security in the nearness of their brother. 

I'm not sure if raising twins actually gets easier, or if you just become adjusted to your new lifestyle. Many people are used to a strict routine when they bring children into the world; they go from high school to college to an entry-level job to mother or father, and it must be an easier adjustment to make when you life has been dictated by others for so long. Plus, they have the energy of a true 25 year old to handle the demands of two infants. But Larry and I had over 10 years to learn to live without many rules. We woke when we wanted, went wherever we felt like, and spent money on anything we fancied. It's a difficult adjustment when your sleep is interrupted, you are trapped in your home, and your money runs out before payday. On top of that, you're pushing 40 and still dealing with baby weight (both real and sympathy weight), so energy levels and physical strength are sapped at the end of the day. I suspect that both reasons "It gets better" are true: as your children grow, it gets easier to meet their needs, but also you become adjusted to your new life and its demands.

Larry and I were resting on the giant sea turtle in their playroom this weekend, and I surprised myself when I said, "Can you imagine if we only had one? We'd be so bored." Those first few months seem like a small price to pay for a lifetime of entertainment and the knowledge that our children will have each other. Someday, if I am in Target and I happen on a new twin mom, I'll be sure to pass on those sentiments to her. Because it does get better, each and every day.

In Baby News:

Ren is close to taking those first few steps, and thanks to Aunt GiGi, he is able to move all over the playroom on two feet. 

He is a babbling fool these days, and we're now getting random "Mama"s, "Dada"s, and "Hi"s, and he said "egg" the other day at breakfast (and yes, he was eating eggs). Ren is weighing in at a whopping 19 pounds, 1 ounce and measuring 25 inches long. We had our 9 month wellness visit last week where we learned he is in the 26th percentile for weight, but only the 1st percentile for height.

Grayden is pulling himself up to his knees and thinking about the next step. He is so much more deliberate than his brother. His crawling has improved greatly, and while it still takes so much more effort for him to move across the room than it does Ren, he can no longer be described as "lumbering."

Gray is also babbling; we've had "Hi" often and "Uh-oh" once when Ren fell. He sings all day. At his appointment last week, he weighed 23 pounds, 4 ounces (86th percentile) and measured 28 inches long (42nd percentile). My boys are catching up!