It’s September 22.
Well duh, Kate, you may say, we know what date it is. Tell us something at least remotely interesting.
Unfortunately, I want to talk about my boys, pretty interesting to me, but maybe not so much for you. Hard for me to say.
They turn thirteen today. Not huge, as far as milestones go, but somehow a big one for me. They are twins of course. The first four months of their lives a blur in my memory. The following eight not much better. With twins I couldn’t hold one without feeling guilty about the other. The cycle of feeding and changing and sleeping seemed never ending. The were both breast and bottle fed, and I cried when the nurse told me that I really shouldn’t prop their bottles on blankets so I could eat dinner while they were.
If you’ve had one baby you know how much they need from their mommies. And daddies too. It seems impossible to find a moment to yourself just to have a shower or a pee without taking care of someone else at the same time. With twins there are no moments alone.
I used to go to my obgyn’s office and the nurses would hold them for a few minutes while I walked outside or sat and chatted. I’d let anyone hold my babies, if only to be relieved of the guilt that came from holding only one at a time. I often held two at once. I nursed two at once. And I do believe I thought I would never be a person unto myself ever again.
And yet here they are. Steady is taller than I am already, taller than his teenage sister. Quicksilver hasn’t passed me by, but he will soon. They are well on their was toward independence. I am well on my way to being a person unto myself again.
And now that they are growing up, taking some distance from me, I’m feeling a little pang. A little loss of the little boys wearing metal bowls as hats. The toddlers that would comfort each other when they were sad. The three-year-olds racing down my mother’s street on their Big Wheels, nearly tipping them over as they turned into her drive.
I don’t regret their growing up. I’m old. Two tired for raising babies now. And I’m surprised to find myself a little sad, thinking of where they will never be again.
My wish? For them both to continue growing tall and strong and true. That they find love and happiness and purpose to their lives. Love you boys, always will.
{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
Yes, they are handsome boys now. And sweet. And obnoxious!
Blue Betty, give your mom a big hug from me too. We moms of twins need to stick together!
Oh Kate, that was beautiful, and so are they. Happy 13 to your boys. Those pangs never really go away. I had my son when I was 23, and he is 26 now. I was just repairing a quilt for him last night (he’s had it on his bed in his apartment for about two years). I had washed and dried it and was doing this re-cover work with it in my lap, I kept holding it up to my face and smelling it. I miss that baby so much, but I adore that X-Large young man more with each passing day.
So sweet. My son is almost 12 and I am starting to feel the pangs of baby days gone by, too.
I’m a twin, and you made me want to go give my mom a really big hug.
I know how you feel. My twins are ten. They were beautiful babies, though, and I’m sure they’re beautiful boys now. Happy birthday to them, and cheers to your independence.