Double Trouble! It’s the statement I have heard most since we announced we were pregnant with twins. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been tagged in “Double Trouble” posts on social media or the number of strangers who have said it to me in passing. It seems to be the slogan if you have twins. There is even a range of double trouble merchandise. But for some reason the saying really grinds my gears. Maybe it’s due to the obvious cheesiness of how it rhymes or because It’s been said to me so many times. All I know is I really dislike the saying. It’s not even true for me as I have three children not two, so techinicaly it should be triple trouble!
We are currently on our Easter holidays in a gorgeous self catering on the East Coast of Scotland. Yesterday David had some business he needed to attend to in Glasgow. This involved a 4 hour round trip across the country. So I bundled enough formula milk, bibs, muslin squares, nappies, wipes and toys to keep Finlay amused into my already bursting change bag (I’ve ordered a new bag which I’m rather excited about!) and we set off. David’s meeting was going to take about an hour and half so I decided to take the kids to the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum while we waited. I was looking forward to it myself as I hadn’t been there since I was about ten. We approached the car park and it became very clear it would take a miracle for us to get a parking space. There was about five cars in front of us all driving round looking for spaces. I did my best to try and find one driving round the loop with my eyes peeled. I was determined I wasn’t going to park on the street. So after 3 attempts at driving round the car park I faced defeat and parked on the street. I left the kids in the car while I went to pay the parking metre. Having read the instructions numerous times (those things are like reading a foreign language) it eventually became clear that during the week you are only allowed half an hour and then you have to top up the metre again. No way was I trapsing into the art gallery with a toddler and a double buggy to drag them all back to the car half an hour later to top up the metre. Back in the car I got and we drove round the block to enter the car park again! Another three attempts and I finally found a space. The excitement of finding said space involved Finlay and I creating our own “We found a space” dance and giving each other high fives. You would think he had won the 200m race at sports day!
Next began the laborious process of getting all three children out of the car safely. I seem to have got this down to a fine art and after about 5 minutes we were all on our way into the museum (with a quick dash back to the car for Autumn’s dummy. I wasn’t taking any chances going into the museum without that little life saver!)
First stop the toilet. Surprise surprise the lower level disabled toilet didn’t have a baby changing station. After a lift journey and a dash across the museum (that place is a maze) we found an accessible toilet with a change station.
Once we were all refreshed we wandered round numerous exhibits. Finlay had such fun dashing from one piece of art to another. There were many teaching opportunities to enhance his eager mind. He even ended up discussing the pieces of art and found his favourite which I had to take a picture of.
At that moment I did have my “hands full” and it was “triple trouble” trying to manage them all single handily. But I rather enjoy my triple trouble gang! Yes there are days when they test my paitence, moments when I’m covered in baby sick and all I want to do is cry but the experience at the museum wasn’t one of them.
After the umpteenth person commenting to me about how well I was doing with all three children it got me thinking: what makes me more special than the woman in the corner out with all three of her children (of different ages) by herself or the first time mummy with her tiny baby in their pram? The conclusion: NOTHING! Yes I have twins and a toddler, yes all my children are under four and yes it’s hard work but I’m no more of a SuperMum than anybody else. Twins doesn’t make you a supermum. Being there for your children, getting know them and yourself as a mother, doing what’s best for them even if it means a tantrum in Tesco; all of these (and so much more) make you a SuperMum. I cringe when people say to me in front of other mothers that I’m SuperMum. That’s not fair on the mother beside me who might have spent the whole morning battling her strong willed toddler or the new mummy who managed to get out of the house on time with a full face of make up! Each of us mummies, no matter our circumstances are SuperMums. Whether you have single, double, triple, quad or more trouble in your wee family gang we all deserve to be told we are SuperMum. I really like this saying: “The very fact you worry about being a good mum, means that you already are one” – Jodi Picoult.