The Twin Tornado: A Tale of Double Trouble

November 2017: My husband and I just hit the jackpot – fraternal twins! We’re now proud parents of two tiny cuddly chubby baby girls. Initially our journey of parenthood did not hit us hard as my parents were there to support us. 

Then came the day, four months after the babies were born, when my parents flew back to their home. Suddenly, it was just us: two zombified adults versus two tiny humans with lungs that could rival opera singers.

Now the story starts: My husband trying to figure out which bottle belonged to which baby was like a sitcom coming to life. For the first few weeks, he was always confused with the bottles. Our solution? Bottle covers with a specific color for each baby.

Let the games begin! It’s 3 AM, and we’re changing diapers in a state that could only be described as zombies. We’d finish up, high-five each other for a job well done, only to hear a whimper from the other end of the crib. Oops! Wrong baby, folks. By the time our foggy brains caught up, the beds looked like abstract paintings.

Fast forward to the 11-month mark. We thought we were geniuses, creating a “baby-proof” sleeping area on the floor. I step away for two minutes – TWO MINUTES – and return to find… an empty bed. Where did they go? The bathroom, of course! There they were, giving their toys a five-star spa treatment in the toilet. The plumber who had to dismantle the commode to fish out the toys is probably still dining out on that story.

A week later, my kids tried to fool me again. But now I was more cautious. As soon as I realized that my babies were trying to get into the washroom, I brought each of them to a safer zone. To avoid any more mishaps, I stepped forward to close the washroom door, and to my horror, what did I see? Small, finger-sized dolls decked out colorfully, having a bath in the tub while others sat on the toilet, awaiting their turn. Oh my, the kids had outdone me again.

There’s more! Picture two freshly bathed one-year-olds, soaking up some winter sun in our balcony garden. The doorbell rings, I answer it and return to find my little angels transformed into mud monsters. They’d given themselves the world’s most organic facial – and tasted it too! Who needs overpriced spa treatments when you have curious toddlers and potted plants?

Running after two innocent infants was too much, so I unleashed my secret weapon. The twins were afraid of barking dogs, so when they started their great escape attempts, crawling toward danger zones like the kitchen or bathroom, I became… the barking dog. That’s right, readers! One “woof woof” from Mama, and those little speed babies would U-turn for a safe corner. Well, now I’m a pro at barking.

And let’s not forget feeding time – it was like trying to solve two very different puzzles at once. One baby refused to eat nearly everything, while the other seemed to think input and output simultaneously was a sport. There I’d be, stuck in the middle, a hapless mama trying to decide whether to clean the little soiled human or feed the second little master of tantrums.

So there you have it, dear readers – the unfiltered, mud-splattered, toilet-dunking reality of raising twins. It’s messy, chaotic, and hilarious. Just remember, when life gives you twins, make sure you have a good sense of humor… and invest in a lifetime supply of wet wipes and floor cleaners.

Raising twins is like juggling two ticking time bombs while tap dancing on a tightrope – blindfolded. As a parent with deep admiration, I bow to every parent doing or has done an incredible job.

–Bidisha Ghosh, content writer, mother of twins, avid reader, and passionate baker.