My twin loves. Not identical, but still mischievous.
Eleven now, so different to each other, but similar in many ways too. Connected by a force I can’t possibly understand. I see it, I hear it, but the depth of their attachment evades me. No matter what goes down between them, they always look after each other. They are truly partners for life.
Born before 35 weeks, they spent almost two weeks in Special Care Nursery. I don’t know who was more fragile at this time: them or me. I suspect it was me. Overwhelmed, ill-prepared and ill-equipped for motherhood.
Parenting twins is fun, tricky and exhausting. Sometimes their twinning wins battles, other times Hubster and I employ the divide and conquer method to resounding effects.
They are my boys. And I am proud beyond measure.