twinutero

On a bitter, rainy day last March, I began dreaming of spring and became desperate to get out of the house. I had all three kids: Alex and Jon, then 16 months, and Thomas, two-and-a-half. Where could we go to burn off toddler energy and get a much-needed change of scenery? I decided to try one of the indoor “adventure playlands” on the outskirts of our city. I had never been, but had heard from other parents that it was safe, children loved it, and that I could probably just relax as the kids explored tunnels, climbed the jungle gyms, and slid into pits of balls.

Apparently, every parent in the city had the same idea that day. There must have been forty thousand kids in that playland, all running, yelling and jumping. I was overwhelmed. Thomas and the twins were overwhelmed. I scurried around like a complete obsessive, trying to track the three of them. Thomas still got lost – twice. I found him crying face-down on the carpet. Alex and Jon could negotiate the ramps, tunnels and slides, but really, really hated the ball pits where all ramps, tunnels and slides seemed to end. I couldn’t blame them. The pits were alive with kicking, flailing toddler limbs, and were very difficult to exit.

After an hour or so, I corralled the boys back into the stroller. They were exhausted and not unhappy to be leaving. I was a mess, and thrilled to be out of there.

This never-to-be-repeated experience coincided, ironically, with my discovery of Last Child in the Woods, a book by Richard Louv. The subtitle of the book is Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder. Louv describes how kids are becoming dissociated from everything wild and green. Play is moving indoors or into bordered areas and structured activities where it can be constantly monitored for safety. Some schools are even shortening recess in favour of more “productive” time inside. Louv objects to this trend and so do I. The book is at once compelling, alarming and obvious. It is part of a growing literature and movement toward environmental education, schoolyard greening, and more unstructured play for kids.

I do, however, have three words to add to this conversation:
Winter.
Toddlers.
Multiples.

I would love for my kids to enthusiastically explore the outdoors. While I wouldn’t set any toddler free in a forest or vacant urban lot, I agree with Louv that even very young children benefit from being outside, free to roam, touch, fall down and get up again. The problem with having three kids under three years old, is that they tend to roam in three different directions. It’s almost impossible for one adult to take three toddlers to an unenclosed area, safely.

Thomas is almost 32 months old now. He knows to stop at street corners, to stay on the sidewalk, and to turn around when I say so. But I wouldn’t bet his life on him following directions while I run after his younger brothers. I know a nanny who cares for toddler twins and refuses to leave the house at all. It seems extreme, but toddlers get restless in a stroller and are very hard to herd when they’re on the loose.

Even with two adults, it can be challenging to keep track of three young children. We recently took our kids to a nearby farm. They loved it, but the day was not without minor trauma. Jon fell head-first off the bunny observation stool; Thomas lathered himself in fresh cow dung; Alex massaged his gums on the animal enclosures. All of this happened while we were trying to prevent a similar or worse event.

I am hoping that outdoor adventure, summer and winter, will get easier as the kids get older. Last year, the twins were immobilized by their snow gear, and even Thomas was frustrated by cumbersome mittens. (It’s surprisingly hard to get toddlers’ thumbs into the right section of the mitt, and trying to play without an opposable thumb inevitably leads to tears.) I have not-too-distant plans to teach them to skate, ski and build snow caves. I hope to take Thomas camping this summer, and get all three kids into the backcountry before long.

For now, I am limited by the number of available hands, and our urban location. Limited, but not incapacitated. We’re lucky enough to have a fenced-in backyard where the kids can play almost independently. I am teaching them about the garden. Thomas has helped to plant seeds and transplant seedlings, and he knows where to find berries and bugs.* We have a bird feeder. Alex often asks to see the “boods”, and Thomas can recognise chickadees and cardinals. And, often to my own, short-term, detriment, I don’t discourage them from splashing in puddles, playing in the dirt or feeding the garden ants. It’s not wilderness, but for now, it’s wild enough for me.

*An inspiring book for gardening with kids is Roots, Shoots, Buckets and Boots by Sharon Lovejoy.

During a recent wait in my doctor’s office, I browsed through Maclean’s magazine. I found a two-page article by the Canadian journalist Rebecca Eckler. The article was an excerpt from her book, Wiped! Life with a Pint-Sized Dictator, in which she chronicles her first two years as a parent.

My reaction was visceral. I’m sure my blood pressure rose and my face flushed. Here is an apparently healthy woman with one, apparently healthy child. She has a committed partner and a nanny. Yet she seems completely dumbfounded, bored and exasperated by parenting. She calls her daughter “Devil Child”.

I know this is supposed to be hip and funny. Maybe I’m neither, but I found her portrayal of parenting irritating, sad, and not particularly newsworthy. I haven’t read the book, to be fair, but I sent Maclean’s a letter. They may not publish it, but I will.

To the editors,
Rebecca Eckler (April 2) seems all but defeated by parenting her only child. She has a nanny and a partner who is engaged, yet she can’t seem to manage an average day with her daughter, or “Devil Child” as her baby is now known in Canada. I have a few suggestions that may help Ms. Eckler.

First, she might speak with single parents, especially those who cannot afford a nanny, to understand how much more difficult her life might be without hired help or a partner to call a half-dozen times each day. Ms. Eckler might also check with members of Multiple Births Canada to learn that parents successfully and, yes, happily, raise more than one baby at a time. If she really wanted insight into being “wiped”, she should visit a children’s hospital. Parents of sick and special needs kids could surely teach Ms. Eckler about exhaustion, perseverance, and perhaps even unconditional love. That Ms. Eckler’s experience of parenting should gain so much press is both infuriating and sad.

Ten Seeds. By Ruth Brown. Children learn to count backwards from ten while also learning how a seed becomes a plant, how a plant makes new seeds – and how some seeds and plants are lost to hungry garden critters in between. Beautifully simple.

The Carrot Seed. Written by Ruth Kraus; illustrated by Crockett Johnson. Written in the 1945 (and looking very ’40s), this is a short story of a boy with faith – about a carrot seed.

Le Livre des Bruits. By Soledad et Bravi. A basic picture book with accompanying French sounds: “Les pompiers, ils font pin pon pin pon.” We borrowed it from the library and will have to pay for extensive repairs as this book has been dragged from room to room and held up in a plea to read too many times.

Owl Moon. Written by Jan Yolen; illustrated by John Schoenherr. A girl and her father go owling late one night. It’s poetically written and elegantly illustrated. My two-year-old is captivated.

The Bear Snores On. By Karma Wilson and Jane Chapman. Forest animals party while a bear hibernates in his den. A bedtime story with a twist. (Thanks for the tip Shelley!)

The Rattletrap Car. By Phyllis Root and Jill Barton. My only quibble with this otherwise brilliant book is all the car parts scattered across the countryside as the Rattletrap Car breaks down and is fixed by an inventive family. A gas tank left in the duck pond?

Monster Mama. Written by Liz Rosenberg; illustrated by Stephen Gammell. I’m hesitant to recommend this book because I don’t think I would ever read it to a child. The story, even though it’s about a mother’s love, is odd and probably frightening to anyone under ten. The illustrations, however, are fantastic. If an older child wants inspiration to paint, here it is. Okay, I admit, I was also pretty amused by the description of Monster Mama: “Her bad moods terrified the neighborhood.” Errrr…

I was asked many questions during the waddling stage of my twin pregnancy. Among the most frequent was “Are you planning to nurse them?” The question was posed with some combination of curiosity, admiration and incredulity, usually depending on the speaker’s own experience with breastfeeding.

I did plan to nurse my twins. In fact, I took a prenatal class on the topic. From this class I learned that it was possible, either in succession or in tandem, and that many mothers have nursed multiples for months or even years. I was also encouraged by my experience with our first son: Nursing came easily to both of us. I was confident that I could and would nurse the twins as well.

And I did, exclusively, for their first four days. Both Jon and Alex were voracious and gained weight before leaving the hospital, something the nurses said was unusual for twins. Except for the fact that I rarely slept, things were going pretty well.

Enter the unexpected. After one day at home, I was rushed back to the hospital with indescribable pain. My parents rushed to the store for bottles and formula. I was in and out of the hospital for the next ten days but was determined not to give up breastfeeding. I pumped… and pumped… every few hours when I was alone in the hospital and when I was in too much pain to hold my sons. We had two beautiful babies, but it was otherwise a pretty rough time.

I can’t remember making a deliberate decision, but we soon developed a routine of breastfeeding one twin while formula-feeding the other. We’d switch their places at each feeding. It was a good compromise – easier physically for me, and the babies were still breastfed about four times a day.

When I was stronger (a month or so after delivery), I again tried exclusive breastfeeding. As with everything in parenting, there’s the ideal and the reality. Ideally, twins would eat and sleep at the same time, thereby making life easier for their parents. In reality, twins are individuals who likely have different eating and sleeping patterns. Alex likes to do everything quickly, except eat. He would nurse and drink his bottle at leisure, sometimes taking a break to digest. Jon likes to do everything slowly – except eat. He would gulp milk so fast that he would choke, and cry, and get even more hungry, and even drink faster, and choke again. Try tandem nursing that!

Successive nursing might have worked, had I been healthier mentally and physically, and had we full-time help. But I wasn’t and we didn’t. My husband was back to a demanding job, my parents were coping with another family emergency a thousand miles away, and we had a 15-month-old son who was no doubt wondering what all the fuss was about. We therefore settled into a schedule of nursing and supplementing at each feeding, and continued this way for six months.

I stopped when Alex stopped. Alex has a rather fiery temperament. When he’s good, he’s very very good. When he’s bad, well, suffice to say he was unequivocal in his preference for the bottle. Jon would probably have continued but I was, frankly, in need of a rest. I had been pregnant and/or breastfeeding for two and a half years, I was well below my pre-pregnancy weight, and I was exhausted, thoroughly exhausted.

Am I rationalizing? Probably. Do I feel guilty about not nursing more and for longer? Yes – and no. We all know “breast is best”. How could it be otherwise? I would advise all mothers to try breastfeeding. If it’s your first time, be persistent. If you have multiples, be even more persistent. It is something that must be taught to, and learned by both mother and baby. And it’s beautiful when it happens.

It is easy, however, to underestimate the tremendous energy needed to breastfeed, especially if you’re feeding two (or more!) babies. You have to eat often and well, and you have to be rested. You have to have help. You have to find what works for your babies and for you.

A few asides:

1. We use Medela bottles, nothing else. They are made from polypropylene, whereas most baby bottles are made from polycarbonate. There is evidence that bisphenol-A, a chemical used in making polycarbonate, mimics estrogen and causes developmental disorders. Why take a chance?Some useful sites:
   Wikipedia entry on Bisphenol-A
   Environment California’s Guide to Bisphenol-A in Baby Bottles
2. On a different note, chances of conceiving twins are apparently nine times higher while breastfeeding. Just so you know….

This balmy winter is an exception. Most years, January means snow, ice and temperatures that weld your eyelashes together. Since I absolutely must get outside in winter (not to the mall), I need an all-season stroller: wheels big enough to plow through snow; good suspension; and coverings that are wind-resistant yet breathable.

I also need a stroller that can be easily folded into the back of the car, fits through an average doorway, and safely and comfortably carries two babies, preferably side-by-side.

Most of the strollers that fit all of the above criteria are “jogging strollers”. After researching on-line, (www.joggingstroller.com and stroller-advisor.com are somewhat useful) we chose a double Chariot. It has the added advantages (for us) of being made in Canada, available locally, and convertible to a bike or ski trailer.

We bought the Chariot when twins were three months old. Strollers for that age are usually rear-facing. Chariots are front-facing, which is one disadvantage of jogging strollers in general. We also had to buy the Chariot’s “baby slings” to provide additional support for the twins until they were about six months old. (There’s a crucial difference between the “baby sling” and the “baby supporter”, we learned after several trips back to the shop. Two supporters will not fit in the double stroller; two slings will.)

The twins loved the Chariot from their first wintry excursion. We liked it too – enough to buy the single version for our toddler. Family outings are now a walking product endorsement. There are, however, a few aggravating features of the Chariot. Nothing is perfect. For anyone shopping for a double stroller, here are a few other things to consider:

-The Velcro that holds the Chariot’s plastic windbreak in place is loud enough to wake any sleeping baby. Not a problem in a single stroller: your child wakes up, you take him out. But twins seem to never wake up at the same time, and Velcro closures makes it impossible to take one child out of the stroller and leave the other sleeping.

-While it’s cozy in winter, the Chariot can be a bit of a greenhouse on a mid-summer day. Even with all the vents open, there’s not much air-flow. We were concerned enough to buy a thermometer to monitor the inside temperature, and it does get several degrees hotter than the outside air. With the plastic covering down (on a warm rainy day) it can get much hotter inside.

-With a few jostles, bumps and expletives, the double Chariot will just fit through most doorways. This is more of a gripe with building design than stroller design. I hadn’t noticed, prior to wielding a gigantic stroller, how narrow doorways, aisles and checkouts are; how many shops and public places are accessible only by stairs or do not allow strollers; how few doorways have automatic openers; and how snow plows leave a small (but sometimes insurmountable) bank at every intersection.

I attempted to bring our twins to a playgroup at the neighborhood library. The room was on the ground floor and there was a ramp bypassing the few stairs to the door. All good. The staff, however, informed me that strollers were not allowed inside the building. Again, not a problem with one child: park the stroller and bring her in. But it’s a big problem with two infants unless you can safely carry them both at once – and someone gets the door. These inconveniences have changed how I plan outings and ultimately where I go with the twins. It has also opened my eyes to the much greater frustration that must be felt by people with permanent accessibility challenges.

-Finally, a double stroller doesn’t really get us around “with three under two”. We didn’t consider triple strollers. They’re just too big. So when we take all three kids out, we bring two strollers and two adults – or Thomas has to walk, which is not such a bad thing for a toddler with energy to burn.