Imagine the moment… It’s 11am, you have snatched four minutes sleep in the last twenty four hours. You are currently dressed in something resembling clothes but the posset stains and general creasedness of the outfit means the black M&S stretchy jersey dress can also double up as a bin liner.
The double buggy, which took almost an hour to construct at 4am this morning when walking the twins seemed like the only option to get them to sleep, threatens to tip over with the volume of nappies, wipes, blankets and fresh clothes. You somehow, with superhuman strength that only the sleep deprived manage to possess, manage to manoeuvre the buggy down the thousands of steps between Paddington station and the Hammersmith and City line. You realise quickly that the majority of Londoners are selfish,childless bastards who have an unique ability to “not see” the exhausted, rather overweight mother of twins wrestling with a “lightweight” double side by side buggy on a mountain of stairs.
You reach the bottom, eternally grateful to have not lost a child or dropped the nappy cream.
And there she is; immaculately put together, nails filed and buffed to the extreme; hair fixed in a pleat you can only hope would happen to you by bad hair fluke. Her make looks ironed on it is that perfect and her clothes look like a wrinkle would repulse.
“Shit” she makes eye contact, to try and avoid the inevitable you bury yourself in the suitcase you now try and pass of as a hand bag. However your lack of scientific knowledge fails you again and by inserting your hand into the overflowing bag you cause a volcanic explosion. Hand goes in, breast pads and nipples shields fall out, along with tena lady and pro plus.
“Shit”
everyone knows the upturned plastic nipple on the platform floor is yours…
In an attempt to recover some dignity you drop to the floor and frantically start to collect lost items. You reach for your fake busom and stop as a manicured nail drops down next to a pair of Jimmy Choo’s and tentatively picks it up for you. From your vantage point on the floor you can see your perfect stranger has not a single hair on her legs or streak of fake tan.
Is this yours?” A voice calls from above. “Shit” Raising from the ground you retrieve your tit and shove it into a pocket knowing full well the next time you see it will be shrunk by a 60degree wash.
The perfect stranger wanders over to the pram with delight etched on her face. “Are they twins?” She enquires
Resisting the urge to say no you were just too alluring post birth that your other half just hopped right back in the saddle you nod in agreement.
“Oh how lovely” and then the words all multiple mums dread to hear. “I’d love twins; must be so rewarding; an entire family made in a moment.”
Really?
Really?
One thing you will never hear a mum of twins say to a mum of triplets is I wish I had triplets. In fact we look to triplet mothers with a mix of awe and terror and an overwhelming sensation of ‘you poor poor woman.’
To all those who only have one child, please extend us the same courtesy…
OMG this is so true… Apart from the fake tit I’ve been there! In fact I’m only just coming out of that awful stressed shattered period and finally finding my (twin) feet! It’s nice to hear others have been through the same 😉
I’d like to say it gets better…..
Hehe I was always terrified my breast pads would pop out… And id keep patting my chest, just to be sure they were still there. I must have looked very dodgy!
Sort of self molesting?
was that me – the immaculate one?
Nope
That was a very funny read…I did sympathise between the giggles though. At least the manicured one stopped to pick it up for you and didn’t walk away!
xx Jazzy
At least she didn’t run off with it!
I was holding my breath then for a moment as I expected MissPerfect hair n nails to be in charge Of a twin Mamas n Papas cream double buggy with matching angelic twins!! I can honestly say I’ve never lost a nipple on a platform!
I have yet to meet a perfect twin mama! X
Ha ha ha … funny! Well I’ve lost my barings on a platform, but never a fake booby!
Tis liberating!?!
I can honestly say from the word ‘go’ I have been in total admiration of mums with twins or more. I don’t think I would have made it out of the house for the first year. Struggling with any buggy + children + bags on the London underground was a total nightmare and I’m glad I don’t do it any more.
Am basking in the admiration! I like you x x x x
Oops! I have twins too. I do pretty well, mostly. I take my hat off to anyone taking a baby in a pram on the London underground – with twins, you were very brave. In the early days, I struggled to get us all to school in the morning, a fifteen minute walk, no steps, and no ladies dressed immaculately (thank God). Did your fake boob survive the washing machine in the end?
Sadly it died a death of drowning
Sorry to laugh at your misfortune but this made me giggle. When I lived in London it was weird how everyone always seemed so well ou together. At least she was nice, or does that make it worse?
Worse!
I have a few friends with twins. I think being a twin is nice but each mother of twins has my absolute respect.
But you do make me laugh 😉
Thats what I am here for 🙂
Thank you! That really made me laugh! I frequently work in London, and never have the chance to look the part.
And I have never aspired to be a mum of triplets!
who would?