What No One Tells You About Parenting Twins: Getting Out of the House

If you missed Part 1 of this series, I shared the emotional and mental load of parenting twins in those early months—where just surviving the day felt like a victory. Today, I’m talking about something a little more practical but equally overwhelming: leaving the house.

Going to the Store: Timing Is Everything

For the first year (and then some), we didn’t take the boys to the store. Grocery runs required a tag-team strategy—one of us stayed home while the other dashed through Trader Joe’s or Publix with a short list and a lot of urgency.

Only recently have I started bringing the boys along for short trips. We stick to small lists and familiar places. And while it’s now mostly manageable, it took a long time to get here. In those early days, the idea of wearing one baby while pushing the other just… wasn’t realistic. There was only one of me, and two tiny humans needing constant attention.

Going to the Park: Confidence (and Caution) Required

I was really nervous to take them to the park alone at first. My husband would go and push them in the swings, but I stayed back—anxious that they’d fall out. (I know it sounds silly now, but that early parenting anxiety was real and valid.)

Eventually, I gained some confidence and started taking them myself. But as they got more mobile—first crawling, then walking—it felt hard all over again. Crawling meant everything went in their mouths. Walking meant constant tumbles. Now that they’re running and climbing, I’m in full alert mode for wipeouts and boundary-pushing.

And leaving? Always a gamble. I brace myself for two meltdowns at once. I know plenty of parents juggle multiple kids, but twins bring a unique challenge—two children at the exact same developmental stage, needing the same level of supervision, attention, and emotional regulation. It’s a lot.

Parent & Me Classes: Not Quite Twin-Friendly

I had big dreams of taking Parent & Me classes with the boys. But the reality? It’s rarely simple—especially when going solo.

My husband’s schedule doesn’t allow for frequent daytime help, and we don’t have family nearby. So, if I wanted to attend classes, I had to figure out how to do it alone. And that’s when I realized: many classes just aren’t set up for twins.

Some locations had stroller parking far from the entrance, which made logistics tricky. Others had lovely setups but weren’t baby-proofed enough for two highly mobile babies. I’d spend the entire class trying to keep them from unplugging cords or pulling books off shelves.

Even when help was available, I had to operate as if I were alone—because more often than not, I was.

What Helped (and What I’ve Learned)

At the end of the day, I had to weigh the pros and cons of every outing. And for a long time, the cons won. That doesn’t mean I regret staying home more or avoiding chaos. It just means I’ve learned to respect my capacity—and their capacity too.

Now that the boys are older and a little more predictable, we’ve found what works. Familiar places. Flexible plans. Low-pressure environments. And things that contain them safely—I cannot overstate how valuable that is.

My Favorite Outing Helpers

Here are a few things that have made getting out the door just a little easier:

Zip Bags – Keeps my diaper bag or purse organized, without a bunch of random items floating everywhere.
Hand Wipes – Because we are very much in the season of touching EVERYTHING! And these are easy on sensitive baby/toddler skin.
Snacks - My boys LOVE this brand of cereal, and I feel good about the ingredients. We stumbled upon it at Costco, but found it on Amazon as well.

I only share things I genuinely use and love. When you shop using these links, you’re helping support my small business—thank you! 💛

Up Next…

In Part 3, I’ll talk about how I learned to tune into my own capacity—and why that’s one of the most important parts of parenting twins that no one talks about. Make sure you're subscribed to my newsletter so you don’t miss it!

Until then, you’re doing a great job—even if the store trip ended with crackers on the floor and one shoe missing. I see you.