Boy has been walking since month 11.5. And he's become progressively uncontainable. Girlie has been standing for a couple of months and taking 1-5 steps between grownups after significant encouragement.But that all changed when I was informed that Girlie decided to start officially walking. Wifey says, "What happened to my kids today?"
"What do you mean?" Says I.
Girlie, she explained, is now walking like a pro. And Boy suddenly knows [most of] the motions to Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes!
"I didn't do it." I admitted.
They are becoming so engaged in one another! It's often quite sweet. Yes, there are early hints of squabbling--and no I'm not surprised. Girlie wants to bite Boy and he wants to push her and/or pull her hair. Ah, yes. This is where the fun starts, right? The sweetness I mentioned occurs, for example, when Girlie pushes a little walking toy around the house chasing Boy. This is usually accompanied by hysterical, screaming laughter from her and silly giggles from him. I waited so long to see these types of interactions--ones that I thought would occur sooner than they did. For many months they seemed little more than vaguely aware of each-other. Twins of Change indeed.
This evening, whilst shopping for a toilet, I had chosen to bring Girlie along leaving Boy home with Wifey. The toilet part is non important, by the way. So I was driving home from an unsuccessful mission and really began pondering and reflecting upon the differences between singles and multiples. (I hate the term singleton by the way. It sounds clinical--and lonely.) While I have no real frame of reference regarding only children, I thought about how our parenting time is divided amongst the twins. We have such hopes that the kids will get along as they grow. I have no illusions that it will be all grits & giggles. But I SO want them to be each other's advocates and supporters! So what did it mean to be to be out and about with just one? Well, we didn't really interact much. She wasn't babbling at all--just content. Content means a lot. That's for sure. But it was also just nice to be in her presence without distraction. Don't get me wrong, I would feel and have felt the same way with him. I'm just talking about a special moment that doesn't often present itself. Very sweet. I love them.
Are we losing anything from not having a single just as we gain so much from having two? I suppose it's irrelevant, but I wonder if they're missing out on something special. Everyone's experiences growing up are strikingly different, aren't they? Why am I humming I Got You, Babe?
