Once a submarine was submerged, the only communication permitted was Family-Grams.  

Wives were allowed to send six messages each patrol consisting of 15 words. 

The first word had to be who it was going to and the last, who it was from so in reality…..13 words, six times over three months!

So, what can be said in THIRTEEN words?

Oh, and the messages were first read and approved before they were sent.

Zip point zero privacy!

I never figured out how to do just 13 words so….I sent poems.

I still remember one of my favorites…..

I am broke

I have no money

Hurry home

I love you honey.

Count ‘em.  Thirteen!

So, how do you tell your husband that your son turned out to be TWO daughters in 13 words?

Here was the problem…..  

My stomach grew huge right from the beginning.

I teased him while he was still home telling him I was sure I was having a litter, like a dog with a bunch of puppies.

And that I wasn’t gonna tell him the truth when it happened.

He’d have to WAIT and come home to find out for sure. 

The message I sent?

No boy

Two girls

Two plus two  

is four

That’s it

NO MORE!

He remembered my tease and so he had no REAL idea of what or who he was coming home to.

Meanwhile, I was a mere twenty six years old, pretty much alone and learning how to deal with four little girls.

I held tight to the one thought that kept me sane…..we were almost done.

I could almost smell his Navy discharge papers!

The babies were not happy.  

They cried a lot, way too much.

I didn’t know what to do.

I fed them, I kept them dry, I held them…..one in each arm, I talked to them, I rocked them, I even sang to them…..maybe that was it?…..my singing?

Whatever it was, I couldn’t figure it out.

They cried…..a lot…..too much!

At my wits end, I finally called the doctor for help.  

One of the first things he asked me was where were they sleeping and what kind of covers?

Side by side in a crib, with blankets, I told him.

He suggested I remove the blankets and then kinda snugly wrap them together in one blanket.

He explained that for nine months, my two little munchkins had been in very tight quarters together and all of a sudden, they were separated…..too much room, they were lost, probably scared.

The moment we hung up, I un-blanketed and re-wrapped……instant quiet.

Four little eyes closed and the three of us got our first real rest.

They weren’t really identical twins but an almost 5# baby and an almost 6# baby, looked pretty much the same to me…..two little Cornish Hens! 

It was real easy for me to confuse who was who.

One day it dawned on me that one of them liked to eat way better than the other. 

I realized I was feeding the hungry one way more than the quiet one who didn’t seem to care much for eating anyway.  

I had to figure out a way to keep them straight and to make sure each was getting enough to eat.  

I decided charts would work.

I taped two pieces of typing paper on the wall, one above each baby’s head with their name, and the times and amounts they ate.

(that would be computer paper in today’s world.)

But…..what if I charted wrong?

What if I put the wrong baby under the wrong chart?

Next I had to figure out a way to make sure the right chart went with the right baby.

How?

And then a brilliant idea.

Magic Marker!

I marked one little forehead with an “A” and the other with an “M.”

And that’s how a confused mom kept track of who was who and how they were eating.

My two older-little ones wanted their foreheads AND MINE painted also.

So there we were, the five of us with initialed heads.

It was a lot of work at first but I had fallen completely in love with my two little baking POWDER biscuits!

Any thought of a little boy was gone.

What a gift these two little angels were.

A few days later I wrapped them both up in one bunting and laid them in the back seat of the car in a little car bed with an older sister sitting on each side.   

We drove to the pick-up spot that had been called to me the night before.

And there they were, a bunch of sailors waiting to greet their families.

My two little ones ran to their dad and he scooped them up into his arms.  

What a sight.

Julie refused to kiss him.  

He had a full beard.  

He shaved it later that day.

He and I shared a huge, long hug…..I shed a few tearsthen walked with him to the car door.   

He lowered the back of the bucket seat and pulled the bunting cover down.

His face turned as white as the sailor cap that was on his head.

He repeated it over and over all the way home…..”I don’t believe it, I don’t FRIGGIN’ believe it.” 

A few days later it was over.

We were done with the Navy.

No more submarines, no more sad good-byes.

We packed up, left Connecticut, headed home to Michigan and began the family life I’d been dreaming about.

My life-savers in the beginning were two wind-up swings.  

Side by side, the movement and the rhythmic click, click, click kept them comfortable, quiet and sleepy.  

A new eating problem arose when they were both old enough to hold their own bottles.  

Yep, there were times I let them hold their own bottles…..and I just sat. 

I was TIRED!!

One of them enjoyed her milk way more than the other.

I watched one day as she drained her bottle, tossed it and then removed her minutes-younger sister’s bottle right from her mouth.

I wondered how long she’d been pulling that little maneuver?

No wonder my little one was so little.

That was the end of their side-by-side meals.

What puzzled me was my younger, little-one never made a sound. 

She allowed that bottle to be taken.

No crying, no protest. 

Later I realized I’d been watching the beginning of two distinct personalities being formed. 

My youngest little girl was gonna be a GIVER.   

I was encouraged to join a Twin Club but I couldn’t.

I had two other little girls who needed just as much attention and didn’t get it because they weren’t twins and there was no club for them.

Remember, this was a time when twins were a really big deal.  

I never went out with them without being stopped by strangers on the streets and in the stores.

People just wanted to look at them and ask the same questions over and over and over.

How do I tell them apart?

(I wanted to say)…..Magic Marker.

What are their names?

(I wanted to say)…..A & B

Is there a good one and a bad one?

(and I DID say)…..Sometimes

Having two little ones at the same time was way more than double the pleasure and love but also the work.

Two little minds working together could solve lots of problems that one just couldn’t.

If there was a bag of cookies on the counter that they couldn’t reach?

Oh yes they could!

One got down on all fours, turned into a stool for the other to stand on and reach.

One bag of cookies…..gone!

Often after naps or in the mornings, I would find them together in one crib.

One of them mastered crib-escape way before she could walk.

When they began potty training, I put their two little chairs side by side.

After a few times of them proudly running to me, carrying their plastic pots with pee and spilling the contents all the way from one room, up the steps and to the other room, I realized I needed to sit with them and give them their due praises right as the events happened.

One nap-time afternoon, I caught them picking chicken-pox off of each other like two little monkeys looking for fleas.

There were also parts of having twins that made me kinda sad.

Often they’d race home from school with their work in hand to be the first one to show me what they did that day.  

They were separated into different classes after kindergarten but still, their learning and work was pretty much the same. 

And they had to share their birthday.

They never got their very own day. 

Once I thought about maybe making up a different date for one of them but somehow that just felt wrong. 

All gifts…..birthdays, Christmas, Easter and more, had to be opened with them sitting on the floor back-to-back.  

They could make all the SOUNDS they wanted about what they were seeing…..oooo’s and ahhhh’s but the rule was they weren’t allowed to give any indication of what the gift was until both knew.  

The reason for this was one was a hurry-up-and-rip-the-gift-open kind of girl and the other liked to take-the-ribbon-and-paper-off very neatly and slowly.

And I must mention the dreaded PMS.

Counting their two older sisters and me…..there were FIVE PMSers a month!

Think about that for a moment.

Someone was always crying, stomping up the stairs, slamming doors, sassy-mouthing, refusing to go to school because of a pimple or threatening to kill!

We even had a special cabinet in the bathroom stocked to the top with sanitary napkins, tampons and Midol!

And boys?

Remember those boys I wanted?

Four adorable teenage girls attracted lots, I mean LOTS of boys!

Ringing phone, dinging doorbell, bikes circling the front of the house…..later cars gunning it and honking as they drove by…..all boys…..all referred to as “dogs in heat” by my then-husband.

The one part I didn’t like the most about twins was I missed being able to enjoy each of them alone, on their own.

They grew up, became young adults and left home pretty much at the same time.  

It’s many, MANY years later now, my babies are all grown up.

Like all or at least most moms, I think back on those times with a warm heart.

When I see twins today, it knocks me backwards in thought.

I still have a hard time believing that was me once upon a time.

And I think to myself…..hang on parents, ‘cause you’re goin’ for a ride.

There’s way more than double love there but also WAY more than double work and double trouble.  

Triplets?

I know one family with three adorables.

Christina and Bill, you’ve done a most amazing job at raising and loving them this far and I have NO IDEA how you do it.

More than three?

I’ve seen and read stories about them.

It fascinates me.

It also makes me shudder with fear.

Can you even imagine?

ME NEITHER!