Bumps, Bruises, and the Challenges of Balancing Multiple Babies

I think I’m a pretty good mom most of the time (nursing issues aside, but I’m coming to terms with those). That said, I’m also a pretty big klutz. Which explains why I keep dropping my babies.

Now, don’t panic. We’re not talking about crashing-to-the-floor-from-standing-height dropping. We’re talking an-inch-or-so-from-my-arm-to-the-bed dropping. The babies don’t seem to mind it at all, but I cringe every time. But here’s the deal. You try picking up, carrying and putting down two 7-week-old babies at one time. Then try doing it gracefully.

Step 1 isn’t that bad once you get the hang of it, but Step 2 is darned near impossible. And if you master that, I’d love to see you try to burp one while nursing the other — or better yet, try burping them both at the same time. Yeah, see? It’s not as easy as I make it look. That is, of course, the times I don’t drop anyone.

These dropping events are generally amusing. Like the time I balanced Miles in my crossed legs on the recliner while trying to burp Emmett, and Miles shifted and fell down in the gap between my ankles and my pelvis with his feet in the air by his face like a kid crammed into a trash can by a bully. That was pretty funny. Or the time I placed Emmett ever-s0-gently on the side of the Boppy and he rolled right over on top of Miles and smushed him for a second. That was hilarious. Also entertaining are the times we prop them up against a pillow for a moment and they promptly fall over on their squishy little faces. A good time is had by all.

Occasionally, though, these otherwise-funny incidents are somewhat mystifying. Like the other night when Jesse put Miles to sleep in the Boppy in the living room and woke up an hour or so later to find him several feet from the Boppy with no explanation as to how he got there. Insert X-Files theme music here. (I suspect that my baby is a genius who escaped the swaddle, walked to the new spot, reswaddled himself, and put himself back to sleep, but Daddy-in-Training is not convinced.)

But then last night it was not so funny. Last night I had Emmett against my chest on the couch, sitting in my crossed legs with my arms on either side of him while I maneuvered Miles into the bouncy seat beside me on the couch. Somehow Emmett fell over (not shocking), bypassed my arm (rather surprising), and whacked his head (crisis!) on the hard plastic part of the seat where you turn on the “calming vibrations.” I held my breath for a the moment of silence that followed…and almost burst into tears myself when he let out the loudest wail I have ever heard.

He was completely fine moments later — not even a red mark where he had made contact — but it was traumatic. For me, not for Emmett. I don’t think he even remembered it 2 minutes after it happened. Because, let’s face it: When you get a boob in your face every time you whimper, the world isn’t such a bad place.

I’m sure I’ll become more proficient juggling two babies at once as I get some more practice under my belt — and most likely as they become less floppy and able to cling to me instead of just flailing about all the time. The downside to their improved clinging is that they’ll be heavier, but at least then I can balance them on my hips instead of mashing them against my chest all the time. (Or, as Daddy-in-Training likes to do it, stacking Miles on top of Emmett in a cradle hold.) I’m also sure this is the the beginning of a lot of years of uncoordinated baby-wrangling.

Fellow twin moms, how do you move your babies around together without bumping or bruising them? Or alternately, what’s your most cringe-worthy fail so far? Leave a comment.