This always grabs my attention. Twin moms almost always accost other twin moms. We know how irritating it is to get stopped by just about every person who sees that you have more than one infant, but once we let on that we’re twin moms too, it’s like meeting an old family member –someone who knows your trials, triumphs, and debilitating sleep deprivation.
I smiled and asked her how old they were, and gestured over to my three year old twins behind me with their dad, in an “I know what you’re going through” fashion.
“I’ve heard it gets easier,” she said, pushing the stroller back and forth, desperate for me to agree with her.
“Well…” I didn’t want to break her spirit, but I had to tell her the truth: “…it gets different.”
If there has been anything that we’ve said over and over again since Rachel and Claire were born, it’s “It’ll get easier,” or “It won’t always be this hard.”
Going out with three young kids means constant wrangling. Buckling three kids into car seats. Handing out snacks and drinks times three. Unloading three kids out of car seats. Trying to get everyone from the parking lot to the destination without a) getting hit by a car, b) melting in the 105 degree heat, or c) getting their arms pulled out of their sockets because COME ON ALREADY! Walk faster, PLEASE!
But lately I see that light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes the light taunts me with the “it’s getting better” song right before it slams the door in my face and I’m left in a sweaty mess, dragging whiny three year olds out to the car or chasing the fastest one year old you’ve ever see through Barnes & Noble before she can unshelve ALL of the Twilight books.
But still, sometimes I do see that light.
It started when they learned to climb into the car and into their seats on their own. Even into their booster seats at the dinner table. All I have to do is buckle them, and that alone is saving my back tons of heavy lifting.
They can fetch wipes if I find myself without any while Zoe’s poopy butt hovers dangerously above the carpet. If they’re listening. It’s kinda touch and go on that one.
They let the dog in. Heck, they’ve even locked me outside before and knew well enough to let me back in when I told them to. So nice of them, right?
And last Wednesday as we perused our normal boredom buster with it’s irresistible dollar section and monstrous red carts, they begged to walk on their own. Actually, it was more of a public service announcement: “I have to get out and walk!” And I let them.
My husband thinks I’m crazy when I say I want to take them somewhere by myself. He doesn’t get the monotony of staying home with them day after day in this ridiculous summer heat. That it’s good for ALL of us to get out.
Sometimes I’m met with wins, sometimes I leave with total fails. But I have to get through the failures to get to the successes.
And I won’t experience even the smallest success if I don’t ever try.
Sure, it wasn’t long before Claire took off running through the Merona dresses and Liz Lange maternity swimwear, rounding a corner and booking it to the frozen pizzas while I was still trying to get through home decor, stopping only to pick up the coloring book that Zoe so thoughtfully threw overboard and maybe to examine a piece of wall art that would look perfect in my living room. But a quick plop back into the cart, a stern talking to, and lots of whining later, she was ready to try again.
And I let her.
And when we made it safely to the toy aisles and they found some plastic dinosaurs to march around with? I heard, “Okay dinosaur…Stay. With. Mommy.”
And they did.
Someday it won’t be this hard. And that someday may be closer than I think.
Have you reached out for a light a the end of a proverbial tunnel? What kind of prize are you keeping YOUR eye on?