The Twinkies

We checked 4 bags. We carried the car seats, two diaper bags (later consolidated into one), a purse and the babies. We brought a single stroller and a wrap. Have I ever told you that I am insane?

I discovered a major difference between New England and the South. In New England people watch you struggle with all that stuff. In the South they offer to help. However, all in all it wasn’t bad. We survived with sanity intact and with very few tears. We did follow Emmie’s advice at Better Make it a Double (which should be required reading for twin mothers flying with kids) on “cuting them up” and I made sure they looked matching and adorable for every flight. (She has more tips here.)

I did learn a number of things about how to make this easier next time. Next time I will use the double stroller. Sure, it is expensive and I will live in fear of the baggage handlers jumping up and down on it in vengeful glee, but being able to push both babies without the back strain carrying one created will be worth the fear.

Next time I will schedule the flights so I don’t have to get the babies up in the wee hours of the morning. Someone actually asked us, as we stood in line at 4:25 AM to check our bags, whether the babies were going on the plane. No, lady, we got them up and brought them to the airport for kicks, because we’re just that nutty.

I think direct flights might be worth the extra money.

I am still undecided on whether the joy of being able to put the babies in car seats on the plane was worth the agony of hauling the seats through the airports, though apparently there are carrying devices designed to make this easier. Actually paying for infants to have seats, rather than holding them up your lap, must be a bit odd. One TSA guy asked why we had four boarding passes. Well, because we have four passengers. “Usually,” he said, “they just write ‘infant in arms’ on the parents’ pass.” “Yes,” I said, “but they aren’t in arms. They have paid seats.” Pause. “Oh.”

In each airport we spread a blanket out on the floor, pinned the kids in with car seats, bags and the stroller and let them play. I think this helped their moods tremendously. I mean, would YOU want to sit in a car seat or stroller all day and never get to strech your legs?

Airports are very spotty in what they notice or care about. One gate agent got into a tizzy and told us we couldn’t use our car seats because they weren’t FAA approved. I pointed out that they were, and when he found the labeling on the bucket part of the two part Graco seat, in which one part snaps out so you can carry it around by the handle, he told me we could use the bucket part but not the base, which would be the part that actually straps in. Yes, because that would be so safe. No other gate agent or stewardess ever cared about the seats at all. The last security agent who screened us noticed that my driver’s license was expired, making it an invalid form of ID. No one else had ever caught that, including me. Ooops. J. had a convenient meltdown and she gave me the twin pity vote, told me I had my hands full and waved us through. In general, I noticed that security screeners were much nicer to me than they ever have been before. I must have looked like a frazzled, novice traveler rather than a child of divorce whose parents lived on opposite coasts, which is to say a very experienced air traveler. Of course, flying with children is a whole new experience. Not wholly bad, but not as good as a massage.

This afternoon F. was fussing, and I asked her, “Do you want tissy,” tissy being our cute word for breast-feeding.* She got a big grin on her face. I said and gestured “come here” and she scooted across the floor to me.

Now, I am sure they’ve both understood us for a while, but this was the first time either has clearly demonstrated comprehension via a specific response. I am so charmed that her first reaction to speech that can’t be attributed to random chance was regarding breast-feeding. That certainly makes those first weeks of breast-feeding hell worth it. This is a girl who likes nursing.

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* It’s kind of like titty only less awkward to have a child say in public.

I was really very tired. The kids didn’t sleep well on vacation because of the different routine and different beds. We had been on an airplane most of the day - at the kids bedtime we were still in Atlanta. J. screamed most of the drive from the airport to the house. I can’t say that I blame him; if I weren’t a civilized, mature adult I probably would have been crying from exhaustion too.

We get to the house, bring the kids inside, get their diapers changed, get them into PJs. It is about one in the morning. I put J., apparently asleep, to bed and nurse F. J. is not asleep, and starts crying a “don’t leave me alone in here, I’m tired and cranky and I WANT MY MOMMY NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW” cry. I finish with F. I put her in her crib. I turn to look at J. Sure enough, he is standing in his crib, holding on to the top railing, leaning forward, screaming.

Now, as I survey the developmental leap my son has made what words of joy do you think escaped my proud lips? How do you think I commemorated this momentous occasion? Come on, guess.

I said, “Oh, shit.”

Mother of the year, ladies and gentlemen, mother of the year.

Here is a great article on how to help a new mom with twins.

I’ve been on vacation. All last week I was down in Florida on a family vacation with two babies, two grandmothers, a grandfather, an aunt, a husband, a stop to visit a great-grand mother and me. I am either crazy or brave. Or both. Once I get the laundry done, the blogs read, the mail sorted and so on I’ll espouse on the glorious adventure that is flying with infant twins.

I “pre-posted” stuff for the week, and am rather curious - did it all show up at once or did each post arrive on it’s own day, the way it was supposed to?

So…though I have not made it through all the blogs - there are over 100 posts in my reader so it’s going to take me a while - here is a brief smattering of last week in twin blogdom.

Cass over at Many a Mile to Go is trying to figure out what to do about night waking. This is a dilemna I know well; do you wake baby #2 to feed after baby #1 gets up, or go back to bed yourself and hope for a long stretch of sleep? What do you do?

PokerPeaker muses on the absolute nature of parental love. His twins are due soon, so he’ll get to have twins AND a toddler. That scares me. He’s got a pool going to guess the date his twins will arrive. I am not entering because I can’t even win a door prize, but maybe you have better luck than I do at these sorts of things.

Jenn at Club Mom has a question about cloth diapers. Any help out there?

Emmie at Better Make it a Double has a beautiful post on memory and recordings. Posts like that make me swoon with the beauty of the writing and the thoughtfulness of the subject matter. Or, to be less sweet, make me writhe with jealousy. Stop writing so well, would you? You’re making the rest of us look bad.