In about two and a half more hours, we will all have survived the first year with twins.
The only real difficulty about the first year with twins is that it immediately follows a twin pregnancy and is immediately supplanted by a year with twin toddlers. If I were arranging things, I would have planned a couple weeks off in a mountain cabin between each of those. Plus a night nanny, housekeeper, personal chef, and chiropractor who made house calls. Under those circumstances, I think I could be the serene, well-organized, stylishly-dressed, fun mother I envision instead of the stained and slightly deranged lunatic who seems to actually reside here.
But we survived, and that's the main thing. We can always do better next year.
Parents, "they" say, exaggerate the differences between their children. So exaggerate away. It's how we tell them apart; otherwise we'd be as bewildered by the sea of short tow-headed creatures as everyone else.
D4 scooted himself to the top of his bassinet before he'd coughed the fluid out of his lungs. And he's never stopped moving since. Yet curiously he still hasn't taken that first step solo--we thought perhaps he'd be our first to make it before 12 months. Yesterday he was pushing a broken toy shopping cart uphill over weeds. I pointed out to him that walking unassisted was actually much easier, but he just isn't ready to try it yet. His big, toothy grin catches everyone's eye. When he is happy there is no one happier, and when he is sad no one can scream more vociferously. He goes straight from 0 to 60 in the morning and back again when the day is done. Words produced so far include "more" and "tip" (as in "I'm a little teapot, tip me over and pour me out.")
D3 seems quieter on first glance, and yet give her some space and quiet time and she'll crow louder than anyone. (Perhaps it is only us, but we have found our introverted children are far more trouble in church than the extraverts. As soon as everything gets quiet they start chattering.) She is impelled to go up--stairs, stools, couches, pianos. Her favorite place to perch right now is on the toy picnic table, where she sits, back to the edge, two fingers in her mouth--yet somehow never falls off. Her angelic smile is particularly effective at persuading Papa to do her bidding. Words produced so far include "noo-noo" (food of all kinds), "oh, boy!" and "hi, baby!"