"Enjoy our party snacks"

Ellie’s company holiday party was the other night. It was a formal affair with catered food and no children who are old enough to run around and make trouble. This is in direct contrast to my company holiday party, which is a pants-optional affair with no food served unless it comes ready to eat from a box and we all sit on the couch and hope the screaming children don’t drown out the television. I hold these holiday parties every night in our house. I threw on my suit, Ellie threw on her nice pre-pregnancy clothes that just now started fitting again, and we dropped Abbie off with a friend before venturing off to the party for fine food and conversation.

I know that new parents are instant mini-celebrities. For the first few months of Abbie’s life, taking her into public was guaranteed to attract strangers eager to touch her and ask questions like “how old is she?” and “are you sure you should take her into public so young?” This effect faded as she aged and fresh newborns attracted the well-meaning strangers’ attention.

I’ve heard that parents of twins are instant mini-celebrities. I’ve heard stories that taking twins into public is guaranteed to attract strangers eager to touch them and ask questions like “how old are they?” and “are they identical?” and “what do you mean one’s a boy and one’s a girl?” Sometimes parents hate this attention, especially when they just need to run in and out of the local mega store for diapers after discovering that twins can burn through an entire package in one day. Other times, parents dress their twins identically, take them to the mall, and derive pleasure by feigning surprise when strangers fuss their delectable duo.

At the party, I learned that new parents of twins are instant mega-celebrities, especially when surrounded by people that know you but haven’t talked to you much since you lost all that weight. We made it as far as three steps in the door before Ellie’s boss stopped her to ask how she and the twins were doing.* We answered his questions, showed off the pictures Ellie thoughtfully remembered to bring, and stepped toward the appetizers. We made it as far as the drink table before the first co-workers stopped us to ask how Ellie and the twins were doing.* We answered their questions, showed off the pictures again, and slipped toward the appetizers again.

Before I could decipher the flavors of veggie dip in front of me, more co-workers stopped us to ask how Ellie and the twins were doing.* We answered the same questions, showed off the same pictures, and tried to keep moving in the same direction. Even more co-workers tried stopping us, but Ellie parried their questions by saying she needed to drop off her drink and appetizers. We chose the closest seats at the closest table, and returned to questions about how Ellie and the twins were doing.*

And so our night went, us answering identical questions from everyone in the room. The co-workers expressed surprise and wonder at the miracle of life. The co-workers’ spouses expressed dismay that their husbands hadn’t told them any of this yet, but in their defense most of her co-workers had barely seen her. Many people offered to help us with anything we need, and I hope they were serious because I wrote down names. We loved the attention, but by the time we went home, we wished we had forgone the formal attire in favor of t-shirts sporting our twins’ faqs.

At the end of our night, we picked up our coats from coat check, and told the coat check lady all about how the Ellie and the twins were doing.* I can’t remember if she asked or if we just acted out of habit at that point. Then we returned to pick up Abbie from our friend who already knew all about how Ellie and the twins were doing.

* Ellie is recovering nicely. The twins were a little early, but otherwise healthy. They’re learning to eat and might come home in about a week.