TRAVAILS WITH TWINS
ALM No.82, November 2025
ESSAYS


“Twins, identical, both boys, it looks like”, the ultrasound tech moved the wand around some more and called the doctor over to confirm. While I waited, my mind swirled. Twins? No, it can’t be! I wasn’t even sure I was ready for one baby, let alone two!
“Yep, sure looks like it”, the doctor smiled as he continued, “what a blessing!”
The memory of that day played like a filmstrip in my mind as I tried to hold on to the last few moments of sleep. Today was a big day, a day I both dreaded and looked forward to. The boys’ biggest milestone so far – pre-school
***
A blessing? Sure, they are a blessing, when they’re asleep, I thought, reluctant to wake up my four year olds this morning for an early start. They did look so sweet in their bed, laying together, crammed into one bed as usual, legs tangled, making it difficult to tell which little foot belongs to which little boy. I smiled at them, ruffling their light brown hair and kissing their pink cheeks. Conner, as usual with his thumb in his mouth, and Caleb with one hand in his pajama pants. Boys, I shook my head and chuckled, must be genetic. Taking a deep breath, I checked the time - Ok, I’ve got one hour.
“C’mon guys, time to get up”, I whispered, “first day of pre-school”.
At the mention of “pre-school”, 4 blue eyes popped open, and all I could think was let the games begin.
Most people think that twins are just like having any two kids. I can’t tell you how often I’ve talked to people with two or more kids who think this is easy-peasy. I can assure you, it’s not. Twins are a completely different ball game.
I have discovered a phenomenon that I like to call “twin escalation syndrome” that turns my sweet boys into circus performers, rodeo clowns… uncontrollable, tiny, tornados!
Being a twin means you have your very own best friend and constant companion. It means there is always someone there to give you a helping hand, someone to play with, someone to share ideas with, but most of all, someone to impress. Methods of restraint like baby gates or cupboard locks are useless. If one child can’t figure it out, two sure can! One child might be afraid to run off on their own, but for these two, no problem, they don’t need me, they have each other! The real fun starts when one of the boys makes the other laugh. It seems like laughing is the ultimate goal, the gold medal of twindom.
In their four short years, they have developed their own personalities, that is for sure. Conner seemed soft, and quiet, not liking to talk much, especially to people he didn’t know. Caleb was usually the “Conner whisperer”, translating the “Conner-talk” for the rest of us. Until about a year ago, they rarely spoke to the rest of us, preferring their own special “twin-speak”. What was less apparent was that Conner was the planner, the mastermind who I suspected was behind most of the hijinks. Caleb was just louder about it.
Today, it starts like this – Caleb puts his underwear on his head, so Cooper puts his sock on his hand. Giggles. Shirts go on legs one twin gets back in bed.
I haul him out, as he says “Mommy, I’m a fish!” and begins to flop around like a prize- winning trout.
“Very nice, Caleb”, At least I think it’s Caleb, at this point, I’m not really sure. “Let’s go, you two, we need to get dressed”, trying to redirect them, I ask if they want jeans or shorts.
They look at each other “Nothing!” they yell in unison and sprint from the room. The escalation has officially begun, and I know how this will go. After I pin them down MMA style
and jam clothes on their wiggling bodies, I get them at the table. This is where the real fun begins.
Cooper blows bubbles in his milk, so Caleb flicks a Cheerio at him. Cooper blows harder, milk exploding out of his cup.
Please don’t let them act like this at school. My shoulders slumped at the thought of getting that call. You know the one:
“Please come pick up your maniac children, oh, and here is the restraining order, don’t ever bring them back.” I shuddered involuntarily at the thought.
“Ok, ok you guys, quit fooling around, just eat… please”, I’m not even sure they hear me over the laughter.
Not to be outdone, Caleb wrangles his foot up on the table, knocking over the bowl, and sending the last of his cereal across the table. Raucous laughter explodes.
Oooh boy, I better get a handle on this right quick, I think, taking the bowls away as I start to clean up the mess.
“Mommy, look!”
I’m afraid to look. I never know what to expect with these two. Before I know it, one of them could be dancing on the table, while the other swings from the ceiling fan, all in an effort to impress their womb-mate. I could turn around and find them riding the dog like she’s an Arabian stallion or stacking my fine china into a leaning tower of disaster. Or, who knows, I might find them sneaking out the dog door or boosting each other up on the fridge again. The options are endless, and sometimes terrifying. Just last week, I caught them running around the yard in circles, being chased by the barking dog. When I went out to investigate, (because I HAD to investigate), the reason for the running and the barking and the laughing was that these wild boys had found a dried-up garter snake and were passing it back and forth as they talked in “snake” voices, as though this desiccated danger-noodle was a puppet. The dog? Oh, she just wanted in on the game.
How is their pre-school teacher going to survive? I shook my head. Maybe they are not ready for all this, maybe they need to stay home another year? I love these two with all my heart, I really do, but will the teacher understand their particular brand of pure delightful chaos? I sure hope so, if not, what would I do?
Taking a deep breath and rolling my head from side to side to ease my tension, I turn around, and what do I see? Much to my surprise, I see two earnest faces, industriously wiping the table, each trying to wipe up their mess faster. Huh, this “twin escalation syndrome” might come in handy after all!
Did I mention they are using my clean socks? Sometimes you just have to pick your battles.