Published July 29, 2007 in the Hibbing Daily Tribune
I am trying to limit writing about my new life as father of three boys, including a set of twins born this month. But in the grocery store, at work, in the bank, the people say: “I can’t wait to hear more about those twins.” If I were sleeping more or changing fewer than 20 diapers a day, I might say no. I might write about the new makeup of the Supreme Court or the dangers of childhood obesity. But a third of my day is spent fastening and unfastening onesies, with the rest spent hauling 120-pound bags of dirty diapers that look like the monsters from “Tremors” to the dump. So, here we go.
Doug and George are getting bigger all the time and we’re getting as many as four consecutive hours of sleep every night. Sleep deprivation does things to your head. It manifests in different ways between Christina and me, but one common result is the erosion of the mental filter that prevents us from saying thoughts. For instance, after a 24 hour period with little sleep, we were talking about something we saw on the news. When we finished, Christina said, “I just had a conversation. That’s nice.” I have the same problem. Here is a random list of things I said last week that would normally remain inside my head:
“I love WD40!”
“Hey look, that lady is wearing a babushka!”
(After seeing a TV news report on Christian toys, including a plastic Jesus Christ of Nazareth) “You know, I just don’t think the real Jesus would have cut abs like that. Nutrition wasn’t that good back then. Does that make me an ‘ab’nostic.” (Followed by long, inappropriate laughter at own comment).
But after we got more sleep, we began to notice more about the world around us. Some interesting phenomena occur when you take twins out into public. The first is “twin swarm.” Twin swarm started the moment we left the hospital. Random strangers gathered around us like we were Kevin Bacon in “Footloose.” Then, days later, we all ventured out to a restaurant. And again later we visited folks at work. We began to realize that no matter where we go with the twins we are swarmed by people. Everyone means well and we certainly appreciate all the well wishes, but in our sleep deprived state I confess that the conversations become pretty repetitive. Allow me to recreate a common narrative with my unavoidably snide thoughts annotated in parentheses.
Babies! (No, these are hams).
Two babies?! (Oh no! There were three when we left the house!)
Are they twins? (No. One of them is actually a spare we bought on the Internet for parts).
Are they identical? (You tell me, Hoss. What do you see?) At this point, many will begin to narrate the differences they see between Doug and George. “Oh, look, George is bigger,” “Doug has more defined features,” or “George is currently sitting on the left.” Then they look at us as though they’re telling us new information, to help us remember. It’s a little like those “Hocus Pocus” cartoons you used to see in the paper. “I think his right foot is moved somewhat and, look, that one’s ears are bigger.” Thank you, everyone on Earth, for setting us straight.
Do twins run in the family? (Not until sometime between nine and 15 months … wocka wocka!)
You’re going to have your hands full! (If only it were just our hands!)
The other interesting thing is that other parents of twins do not ask these questions. They simply grab you by the arm and nod knowingly. It’s like we’re in a club now. I’m not sure if it’s a secret club but I do know there will be free day care if they ever host a convention.
Meantime, life with three boys continues. Thanks to all for your continued kindness. Yes, they are twins. No, they are not identical. Our hands are indeed very full.
Aaron J. Brown is a columnist for the Hibbing Daily Tribune.