The twin experience is unlike any other. Being a mom to twins I can tell you first hand that there is nothing cuter, more rewarding and interesting than watching your little genetic mutations evolve into people.
Yep. Nothing better.
And nothing harder.
I’m probably not supposed to say that or admit that, but it really is bloody hard. I am sure there will be readers judging, considering me ungrateful to even think of complaining about my darling blessings. If that is you, please know that I am rolling my eyes right now. Of course, I am thankful for my healthy girls. I’m not stupid and I know that things could have taken a million different turns for the worse carrying and birthing identical twins. I pride myself on revealing the ugly truths in life, though, so I must tell you that aside from being two of life’s greatest treasures, the twins are also twenty-pound pains in the ass.
And that is the honest truth.
When you give birth to twin you simultaneously give birth to a long ass list of things that suck like they have never sucked before. This is going to sound as if I am complaining, and that is because I am. I have been carting these kids around like their personal sherpa for three years, my arms hurt and my back is royally messed up, so just let me rant.
Here are some of the things that you can no longer easily do once you have twins:
Run into the store
No more throwing a baby on your hip and running in the Rite Aid to grab Tampons. Every trip out the door is equal to a mission to Mars. For years you will have to drag your four hundred pound stroller out of the trunk as well as your squirming bundles of angry just to purchase sanitary products. The way I deal with this is Target. If I have to torture myself like this, I might as well get some cute shoes and an armful of clearance items out of it. Will I forget the tampons? Probably.
Getting into the car
You now run an assembly line of humans. I wonder if my neighbors sit at their window every morning around 8:30 and just laugh at me making forty trips back and forth to the car, sweat dripping down my face, toddlers wiggling and screaming, backpacks dragging on the ground, crazed mom screeching, “GET IN THE CAR!” All of this just to drop the big kids off at school thirty seconds away. At least you get your exercise, right? Yes, I am grabbing at straws on this one. This part of the day blows. Period.