I hope you don’t mind if I call you Angie but I feel like I know you because a friend of a friend of my brother reads the National Enquirer and always catches me up on what’s happening in your life. So first off, I know that you already have like a boatload of kids but that you just recently added twins to the mix. And I heard that you are finding twins to be very challenging. Actually the friend of a friend of my brother said that you are “totally going out of your mind.”
I think you should know that I too recently had twins. Not as recently as you and not in France. Although, I did eat a lot of croissants while I was pregnant and my ass got huge. In fact, I don’t really know what this “French Women Don’t Get Fat” author was smoking but she’s got her facts wrong. I mean, seriously, croissants are like eating a stick of butter. This might explain why I haven’t shed all of my pregnancy weight.
But on to the real reason for my letter.
Twins are a bitch. It’s seriously underrated the toll it takes on your anxiety level, mental state, physical appearance and overall health in general. Anyone who tells you with a huge smile that you must feel “doubly blessed” deserves to be punched in the head (but have Brad do it because you need to save your strength). When I had my first baby, she slept in a bassinet right next to the bed and, sure, I woke up eighty times a night but it was okay because she was the only baby and I expected to lose some sleep. Scratch that, it wasn’t okay, I was a hot mess but it was livable. One night my husband (who looks slightly like Brad – I’m not gonna lie, he’s a looker!) suggested that he sleep in the living room with the baby so that I could get a full night of sleep and I just about took his head off. I accused him of not loving me and just wanting to sleep alone. When the twins came – let’s just say completely different story. We took turns sleeping on the couch for months and I was thrilled every single time it wasn’t my turn. Like I said, twins are a bitch.
I have one nanny during the day and I hear you have a few on hand so I’m assuming you have one at night. Hell, you probably have a nanny just dedicated to reapplying your lipstick. Doesn’t matter. All the help in the world can’t drown out the crying of two babies who refuse to sleep, eat or play at the same time. Please don’t believe the people who will tell you to “get them on a schedule” that does not work on the planet reality. Eventually they will do more at the same time but the first few months are pure chaos and it’s not your fault.
Personally, I’m not a big showerer overall (wow, maybe I would fit in better in France) mostly because I have only about half the amount of photo shoots that you do, but since I’ve had twins I can count the showers I’ve had on one hand – and I was in a slightly serious lawnmower repair accident so that’s really not a lot of showers).
There’s not a whole lot you can do right now to make things better. You could try the Duggar’s method and just have one of your older children watch the younger ones like Maddox or Zahara or Dax or Ping Pong. But you’ll still have to keep an eye out for them. My three-year-old still acts like her sisters don’t exist so I don’t know how good a plan this is. Plus, my daughter also likes to dress up like a princess and whack people with her magic wand. Apparently babies don’t like this game. At all.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, you don’t have to be strong for any of us twins moms. We get it. We laugh in the face – right in the damn face – of people who have one baby. Even moms of twins who don’t have another child (or eight in your case) we think are weak if they complain. We’ve earned the right to be complete psychos. So you go girl, interrupted. And if you end up in the loony bin for a couple of days or months, I will be your first visitor -provided you don’t mind a couple of crying babies in a double stroller and a whiny three-year-old coming with me.
And in a few months, this will all seem almost amusing and you can just send a turkey lasagna to Rebecca Romijn with your sympathies. Which reminds me, I wonder if J. Lo got the apple pie I sent. I never received a thank you card. Bitch.
Anyway, best of luck and feel free to call me anytime before 9 p.m. Have your people call my people.