That’s how long it’s been since the twins were born. Five looooong years. Or five short years. It feels like a couple months ago they were infants. Now they’re full blown children. Big kids, as they now refer to themselves.
Kids who are reading and writing and soaking the world up like a sponge. Kids who are arguing and developing opinions, a sense of style, and a very serious set of likes and dislikes. Kids who want to be part of everything and do all the stuff big kids do, but still tell me they don’t want to be adults because they don’t want to not live with me.
This is an amazing time. This is magical. This is what I never could have imagined during those long days and nights of that first year.
Twin parents, hang in there.
Five year olds also means that Husband and I have survived as the parents of twins for five full years. We may not have slept a lot, and some of it was hard. Like really, soul wrenchingly difficult. I can’t compare to something else, but I do know that holding two kids at once and nursing two kids at once is hard. Then there was the week and a half that they both had a stomach bug and it was just exploding diapers and crying babies and laundry constantly. I’m pretty sure that experience alone left Husband with some kind of PTSD.
But now five means they tell me all about their day and read me books and try so hard at everything in the world. They try and mimic and you can almost see effort emanating from them. Even when they’re making up stories (we do a lot of that) they’re giving it their all. Those magic little girls, weaving a world through play and imagination that rivals any writer I’ve ever read.
As I tucked them in after a full day of birthday stuff, they each got hugged and kissed and then I made sure to take a minute with each of them and reinforce all the things that sometimes get lost in the hustle and bustle of daily life.
Reminders that they are smart and strong and can do anything. That I love their imagination and they should never stop. That they are wonderful and can be and do anything they want in this life. Except live with me forever. Pretty sure eventually they're going to have to move out.
Kids who are reading and writing and soaking the world up like a sponge. Kids who are arguing and developing opinions, a sense of style, and a very serious set of likes and dislikes. Kids who want to be part of everything and do all the stuff big kids do, but still tell me they don’t want to be adults because they don’t want to not live with me.
 |
| Twin Powers, Activate! |
Five year olds also means that Husband and I have survived as the parents of twins for five full years. We may not have slept a lot, and some of it was hard. Like really, soul wrenchingly difficult. I can’t compare to something else, but I do know that holding two kids at once and nursing two kids at once is hard. Then there was the week and a half that they both had a stomach bug and it was just exploding diapers and crying babies and laundry constantly. I’m pretty sure that experience alone left Husband with some kind of PTSD.
But now five means they tell me all about their day and read me books and try so hard at everything in the world. They try and mimic and you can almost see effort emanating from them. Even when they’re making up stories (we do a lot of that) they’re giving it their all. Those magic little girls, weaving a world through play and imagination that rivals any writer I’ve ever read.
As I tucked them in after a full day of birthday stuff, they each got hugged and kissed and then I made sure to take a minute with each of them and reinforce all the things that sometimes get lost in the hustle and bustle of daily life.
Reminders that they are smart and strong and can do anything. That I love their imagination and they should never stop. That they are wonderful and can be and do anything they want in this life. Except live with me forever. Pretty sure eventually they're going to have to move out.
Comments