What did I get myself into?
To make a long story short, we met and got married in six months. We had twins. We moved across the country, and then duty called. We’re a military family with twin one-year-old boys and my husband has been gone for six weeks. As you read that sentence, I can almost picture your faces. The sympathetic, the empathetic and the just plain shock.
I get it.
Seeing a single mom rocking it is hard enough to watch as you look on when she walks by and ask if she needs a hand. But how many times have you watched someone carry two 20+ pound kids and groceries from the van to the apartment at the same time, then manage to unlock the door and go inside? You see, that’s what I got myself into.
Parenting is hard, for everyone.
Most of us have, know and admire single-parent friends. We see them in the grocery store, watch them as they walk through the airport or open the door for them at restaurants. I’ve seen, heard and lately even felt their struggles. To say that my parenting for two is the same struggle as them would do them a disservice. Single parents, I see you and I respect you. This parenting thing is hard enough for two people, so I couldn’t imagine doing what you do. For me, there’s light at the end of the tunnel. My husband will eventually come home with his camo cape on and save me from the ear-piercing baby cries.
Don’t get me wrong, raising twins has been the most incredible, unique, rewarding and challenging experience. Watching our boys grow up together and explore the world around them has been the inspiring force that gets me out of bed every day. But to say it’s been easy would be a lie. It’s been nothing short of demanding. Every day poses its own challenges and requires me to give it all I’ve got… and then some. Parenting for two has added to the battle that is raising twins.
Parenting for two with two has called me to be the good cop and bad cop. The chef and table busser. The patient and impatient parent… all times two. Parenting for two with two means that I cook twice amount of meals, hold twice the amount of fussy babies and change twice the amount of blow outs. Parenting is hard, and raising twins while my husband has been away has felt like I’m half drowning in baby poop most days.
Self-taught lessons in character building.
Parenting for two with two has been a lesson in character building. I’m not sure whether to attribute my successes this last month to patience or just a new knack for efficiency. I’ve learned how to do things as quickly and painlessly as possible. I realized early on the difference between a “hold me” cry and a “Mom, I got my head stuck” cry. I accepted the first week that the kitchen would be my most hated and loved space. Most importantly, I’ve also learned that anything can be done if you tell yourself enough times, “You can do this, you’re tough.”
Raising the boys by myself these last six weeks has helped me focus less on the small things and look more at the big parenting picture. I’ve learned that my parenting style it is not what I expected. I am not the helicopter mom I always thought I would be. I realized I have a lot less anxiety and first-child worry than I imagined I would have. Maybe that’s part of the twin parenting persona—I just don’t have the time!
Even though some days they rob my of my energy, shame me out of a grocery store or restaurant and make me question my sanity… there are sweet moments in between. Moments when I catch them playing with each other. Moments when they’re babbling or laughing together. And the moments when they’re doing some cute twin thing that makes me pull out my phone? That makes the rest of it all worth it.
