First published on Mar 13, 2026
Quick housekeeping before we dive inI. I've started a Substack dedicated to fatherhood writing. This piece is cross-posted there. If that's your kind of thing, check it out.
Fifty days ago, our little family of three became a not-so-little family of five. Arthur and Evelyn arrived a little early, perfectly happy and healthy.
Twins. Three under three. Three under two and a half, actually. Two babies at the same time. A toddler in the prime of his chaotic phase. It's quite the undertaking.
One of the ways I've been keeping my head above water is by keenly observing the nuances and intricacies of recently becoming a parent to twins. What follows is by no means comprehensive or objective, but in this sleep-deprived stupor, it is all I've got.
It's hard Let's just get it out of the way. Two babies are harder than one. Some things are a bit harder; some things are far more than twice as hard. Everything difficult is difficult twice over. Sleep is a miracle. Once you finally change, feed, and settle one baby, it is time for the other to wake and go through the whole process. Once you change, feed, and settle that one... Sisyphus would make a great twin parent.
You become a celebrity From the moment they are born, you are as close to a celebrity as any normal person can be. From the midwives in the hospital to strangers in the street, everybody goes nuts for twins. Everywhere you go, people will strike up a conversation: "I'm a twin too!", "What a blessing!", "You must be exhausted!"
When you are on the verge of total exhaustion, one of these random interactions makes everything okay.
You become okay with crying When my first son was born, I saw any crying as a failure. I was not fulfilling one of his limited number of basic needs: he was hungry, he was too cold or too hot, his nappy needed changing, or he needed a cuddle. There was no excuse.
With twins (and a two-year-old), you have to accept that you can only truly deal with one baby at a time. My wife, a saint, can breastfeed both simultaneously, which can occasionally negate the issue, but that is about the only exception. They will be hungry at the same time. You will put one down too soon after feeding and leave them with an uncomfortable burp. Both will need their nappy changing at the same time. Again and again. In the early days, one or the other twin will be crying frequently.
You become almost[1] immune to crying. Or, I should say, you become very in tune with what is safe crying and when something is seriously wrong. Babies are very resilient and can almost always wait for their sibling to be fed or changed, even if it is absolutely heartbreaking to hear.
Triage. Triage. Triage. As an extension of the last point, you will become a master of triage. You simply cannot fulfil all of the needs of the twins, other siblings, the household, your partner, and yourself at any one moment. Without thinking, I know what needs to happen now, what can wait minutes, what I can do later, and most important of all: what I can just let go. I need to sweep and mop the kitchen. No, I don't. We are fighting for our lives with three very young children; cross it off the list, forget it. The kitchen will be clean, one day. Close the loop by deleting the loop.
People say really odd things Alongside the lovely interactions and well wishes, there are some truly bizarre and out-of-pocket comments. One of our close friends said upon hearing the news, "Twins are my worst nightmare." Thanks! "You'll never sleep again!", "It's a shame they aren't identical." It could be oversensitivity triggered by a lack of sleep, but it seems like many people just totally disregard social conventions and tell you exactly what they think. You learn to take it with a pinch of salt, of course. Assume positive intent always; but it is very odd.
The 7 Ps "Proper Planning and Preparation Prevents Piss-Poor Performance." The reward for good preparation is a crisis you didn't have. The majority of chaos can be dramatically reduced by methodically and strictly planning and preparing. Bottles need to be cleaned, sterilised, and easily accessible, whether it's 3 pm or 3 am. Nappies need to be stocked, organised by size, and strategically located. Washing needs to be done incessantly. Food for the family needs to either be prepared in advance or well-planned, quick, and easy. What we need for every trip is planned meticulously: we'll need the pram, the bassinet, four blankets, snacks and water for the toddler, and caffeinated beverages for us. We cannot make these decisions five minutes before leaving. It guarantees something is missed or forgotten, which then leads to tears, which snowballs inexplicably into a total meltdown by at least one child, and oft an adult, too.
On reading through the above, I began to worry it was too negative: I hope it doesn't come across that way. Parenting very young children, especially babies, is challenging, but it is without a doubt the most wonderful and rewarding thing I have ever experienced, and I doubt it will ever be topped.
The clichés are true: twins bring twice the amount of joy and twice the amount of love. The short-term chaos is rewarded with double winnings. In the hardest moments, I think of the payoff[2] and take solace that these are just the early days of the most beautiful journey.