As a new mom to twin boys, I find myself perpetually sleep-deprived and far too irritable for the well-meaning but absurd comments from strangers. “Twins?! What’s it like? I’ve always dreamed of having twins!” they exclaim. Sure, I adore my kiddos, but I can’t fathom why anyone would wish for two infants at once. It’s as if people expect me to rave about how enchanting it all is—spoiler alert: it’s hard AF. When I share this reality, their faces morph into that of a child learning that Santa isn’t real, as if they believed having twins was the pinnacle of happiness. Yes, there are double the giggles, but there’s also triple the need for wine.
Living with twins feels like being on a never-ending episode of Chopped, the cooking competition show where contestants whip up dishes from bizarre mystery ingredients under extreme time constraints. Imagine the host declaring, “In this round, you have 20 minutes to create a meal using rusty nails, breast milk, dog food, and powdered cheese sauce. Time starts now!” The stress is palpable; contestants often fumble, and someone usually leaves with a bandage. It’s exhilarating! The eliminated chef might smile and say they’re “just happy to be here,” but they disappear behind the Chopped doors, never to return.
That’s what my life with twins feels like—except my competition is the hour between daycare pickup and bedtime. Instead of strange food items, I face mandatory tasks that need completing before the 7 PM hunger cries begin. The stakes are high, and the reward (wine) is enticing. “In this round, Mommy has 20 minutes to wrangle the twins and five bags inside, unpack everything, wash bottles, feed the dogs, change the kiddos, start laundry, and get bottles in their mouths before the meltdowns begin. Good luck!” And off I go, balancing two babies and a mountain of bags like a circus act.
Getting the front door open is my first hurdle since my hands are full. But no worries—I’ve only burned 4 minutes, leaving me with 16 to go. I manage to get inside, free the boys from their carriers, and start organizing: toys in little hands, dirty clothes in a pile, and bottles into the fridge. Unfortunately, I’ve picked the six-part bottles, and just as I get everything sorted, the first whimper echoes.
Fourteen minutes left. I get the bottles soaking and dash outside to tend to the dogs, who are eager for attention. But as I’m distracted, twin A decides to take a swing at twin B. And, oh boy, that smell? Not a dead animal—just a diaper explosion. Fantastic. Time to change both of them.
Seven minutes remaining. I start the first load of laundry and grab a new toy to distract the boys. Two minutes to go. I rush to rinse bottle parts, praying that I can clean all 60 pieces before the inevitable wails start. Like the required ingredients on Chopped, these tasks are crucial for keeping our household running, but just like the show, time runs out. Babies are screaming, and I’m nowhere near finished. Spoiler alert: I get chopped every time. I explain to them that they’ll just have to deal with it for now. Not a fan of the “cry it out” method? Great, but what’s it like to have just one kid?
As they cry louder, I pretend to be grateful for this experience, reassuring my imaginary audience (because I’m clearly losing it) that just because I’m chopped doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to be a good mom. I text my partner that he better be home soon for bath time or else I might just walk out the door—kidding! (Maybe.)
If my kids aren’t crawling by 13 months, it’s not their fault; it’s me holding them back because I can’t take on the added responsibility of keeping them safe from every potential hazard. Kids are great, truly, but trust me when I say that the next time someone tells me how #blessed I am, I’ll be sending my to-do list their way while I sit back with a bottle of wine.
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Summary:
Life with twins is a chaotic adventure filled with challenges that often feel like a cooking competition, where the stakes are high, and the rewards are scarce. Balancing multiple tasks while managing two infants is no easy feat, and while there are moments of joy, the reality can be overwhelming. So, the next time you think about how “blessed” a twin mom must be, remember the hidden struggles behind those smiles.