I work in my dining room. What this means is my beautiful dining room table is covered 24-7 with my laptop and 50,000 papers like bills, love notes from my daughters (including one recent that said simply “Read me Harry Potter NOW!”, threat implied and hint taken…more bills, random stickers and books, blah blah blah. One recent addition is actually right outside my dining room window that I stare vacantly out, waiting for inspiration: a mama robin built her nest there, a couple of weeks ago.
This was so real life Nature Planet and absurdly cool. I kept watching as it went from a bunch of sticks to a nice organized nest (in about the same quick length of time that my nice organized clean nest of a home goes to looking like a trash heap in the sticks, whenever any of my family members come home). Then she laid some eggs and that was cool too. Everyone wanted to know how long they would take to hatch and since I’m a mommy and I know everything (with the help of ask.com) I answered “2-3 weeks” and on schedule, they hatched.
Now I am FASCINATED by watching these little tiny baby birds with their little mouths open, facing the sky, waiting for their mama (and daddy, I am 99% sure there are two robin parents involved here) to feed them. They are so sweet and also heart wrenching. And juxtaposed against this is my own nesting issue.
I have these twins, as previously written about and alluded to. They are now 5 1/2 and enjoying them some kindergarten. In truth we all enjoy their stint in kindergarten. Because the thing with twins is–it’s not the same as a new child in your family that everyone then adapts around. Twins, at least mine, continually hit everyone over the head with their twin-ness. It’s not something that goes away or is no longer new, like a new baby is soon a part of the family–the twins are always twins first and foremost. They gang up against their sisters; they fight, but always put each other first and certainly put up with FAR more from each other than they do from anyone else.
They are very separate personalities but tied so much closer to each other than even they know. And I kept them together for kindergarten–even though everyone said “Separate them”. It’s been good, for the most part. Though not for their big sister–their alliance is stronger then ever so the Middle East peace talks have more hope of being successful than a long term detante amongst my 3 oldest (everyone gets along with the baby–all she does is yell DA DA DA DA DA and smile at us, so no one can object).
The other day, however, their kindergarten teachers called me in and said I should separate them for first grade. In my head I know this is the right thing. In my heart I am conflicted. Which played out with me bursting into tears that I didn’t even really know I felt in the middle of the school hallway at the thought of my little twins heading to first grade on their own.
I know that C will always look out for S. S is more shy. She’s thoughtful, contemplative, and an observer. C jumps right in and has on multiple occasions, stood up for S this year. They have to learn to stand on their own, I know, and get their confidence–and come into their own. I know this. But I also feel that having a twin is a gift. Having someone to always have your back, always be your best friend. If that person happens to look exactly like you, well–that’s fine.
And now as I watch these little baby birds outside I worry about my little ones. When they went off to kindergarten this year I didn’t think twice. I was happy for the peace. And I know I’ll feel differently as I send them on their separate ways in first grade.
I totally know this is the right thing. I know they have to grow up. I know I have to get a grip.
When does this ever get any easier?