When my kids were newborns, I sometimes wished we were invisible. If babies are magnets for attention, multiple babies increase that draw exponentially. The three of us, me pushing the Double Snap & Go with matching infant carseats, were like a big neon sign. “Come, crazy people! Talk to us! Stop us in the grocery aisle, especially if one or both is crying! Ask stupid twin questions, like whether the boy/girl twins are identical!” I became highly unpleasant and defensive when out in public, because all of the attention made it nearly impossible to run errands or make it to our destination. No one could resist the pull of double newborns.
As the months went on, it got a bit better. I chilled out in my reactions and was nicer to the old ladies in the grocery store (though I was still perhaps a bit short in my responses and tried to keep moving). We started using a “normal” double stroller instead of the Snap & Go. Their clothing became more obviously indicative of the boy/girl split, and their size difference became more pronounced. We stopped being quite the crazy-magnet we once were.
Now, at 19 months, people seem almost as likely to ask me how far apart they are in age as they are to assume they’re twins. Plus, a number of my mom friends who had singletons at the same time are gearing up for the arrival of number two. I’m getting to an age where it’s not so strange to see a second child. The “twin thing” is becoming rapidly less obvious. The double stroller, less unique.
I have to say, I rather enjoy this change. It’s nice not to be the only one with two. It’s nice to not stand out in the crowd quite so much. It’s nice to have my other friends get into life with two. [Not that it’s anywhere near the same thing as having twins, but try not to scream at your friends in their delirious post-partum-addled state if they attempt to say such a thing.] And, honestly, the special-ness of twins hasn’t gone away. People are still tickled to realize that my kids are not a year apart, but were instead born within the same minute. Even if fewer strangers on the street take notice. I think it’s alright if our special thing is a little more understated, a little less apparent.
What do you think, moms? How has the “twin thing” changed as your babies have gotten older?