Be Careful What You Wish For......

When my children were wee tots we used to take them everywhere. We'd wheel them around in either the Lincoln or the Cadillac. The Lincoln was a stroller for twins that sat them in-line facing forward and the Cadillac sat them side by side. The advantage to the Lincoln was that it was really no wider than a regular stroller only longer. Much longer. The stretch limo of strollers. You could share the aisles in stores with other shoppers. The advantage to the Cadillac was that it took up the whole aisle and you could effectively stop traffic in both directions. The Lincoln had about a four foot turning radius and the Cadillac could turn on a dime. Those were great times terrorizing malls and stores with the twins.

Inevitably, however, someone would stop us and want to see the two little ones. Some wanted to touch, some tried to pick one or the other up. When I was driving this was not a problem. When I said "no," they seemed to get it that "no" meant "no" and "go away" and "don't bother us." With the mom it was a different story. People would pick them up, pinch their cheeks, 'coo' and burble at them. Jessica was for the most part tolerant while Erin hated strangers and let them know it. Inevitably and I mean inevitably the woman who stopped us (after having asked "are they twins?" Duh!) would say--oh, oh, here it comes--"I always wanted twins." ARRRGH! What are you nucking futs?

They could never know how much work it was. How much sleep was lost. How all consuming multiples would be. It's not a geometric relationship (like twice the work.) It's more like an exponential scale like 2 to the power of ten the amount of work compared to a single child. But the joy factor went the same way and the awe factor as well. We chose for economic reasons (and perhaps others) to raise the children in shifts or what we called tag-team parenting. Daddy was a teacher and mommy was a nurse. Daddy went to work around 6:30am and came home just in time to tag the other caregiver who went off to work the swing shift until 11:30pm or 3:30am. Last guy home from work usually got to sleep first and the other got up with the kids. Most often we were both up all the time with them because it took all hands on deck to get the jobs done and the babes rocked back to sleep. Afterwards you just collapsed anywhere until the next movement or feeding or bad dream.


Because of this work/childcare schedule, I got to spend eight hours alone with my girls playing, learning, painting, cooking, and building things. I think our greatest single accomplishment was a train setup that took up one whole room of our basement. We laid out the track, made and painted all the little buildings and the people and animals who inhabited our little town right down to the fishing pond with me fishing off the dock. We played at that for years it seems. I got to know them in ways I think most men don't get to because of more traditional jobs and family roles.

The girls went through all the stages from being my little pals to thinking everything I said was dumb and I couldn't possibly understand anything. They went from daddy's little girls to beautiful women in no time flat. We went from doing everything together to wanting and gaining total independence. From little pink babies to prom dresses times two to full grown women. All, it seems, in the blink of an eye. One minute we were scrounging around in train stations for railroad spikes, or going on outings together, doing pal stuff. The next they were graduating from college and starting their lives as young adults. The calls home for help, advice, and just to say hello come less and less frequently. The parental sense of usefulness wanes. To those nutty women who said "I always wanted twins," the sense of loss grows exponentially as well. Having one child grow up and move out is nothing compared to two at the same time. Your sense of purpose is seriously diminished. The psych folks talk about the empty nest syndrome and cutting the umbilical cord--letting them go and what to do when the kids finally move out. It's hard with just one child but with two it's damn near unbearable!


The sense of loss is sometimes overwhelming. In a few short years I feel as though I've lost everything. My kids moved out and away. One got married and one is devoted to her work. My health went to hell and I lost my ability to do what I really love to do. My father died. I felt and still to a large degree feel useless and all too often hopeless. With help I'm working through these feelings but I still can't help, especially now, think that those ladies who wanted twins were really insane. Who would want that kind of grief and loss.

My kids and I are reestablishing our relationships and boundaries but I still miss the old ones. I miss being needed. I'm working on my head and body to get back to teaching. And I'm dealing with the sense or being an orphan when your last parent dies. I must say it's as hard a thing as I've ever done to let go of the bike and let them ride away. I am getting out and away from my stressors. Networking more. Talking to adults. Even blogging. Who'da thunk it? Sometimes I sit around at night and hope one of them will call but I also know they're busy being big people now like I was in my mid-twenties. I guess it's hard for adults to grow up after investing so much time and energy in their kids. Letting go means having to fill that void with something else. Spending that much time with kids makes it easy to forget how to socialize and how to entertain yourself. I'm getting better but only slowly. After all, it's been twenty-six years since I've been out of the social independence pool.

To all those bubble heads who stopped us and said, "Gee, I always wanted twins," a caveat. Be careful what you wish for it might just come true. True you'll never know the joys I had knew with my girls but you'll also be spared the pain of letting go times two. You'll never get to use those two rhymey names you wanted to give them or dress them exactly alike all of their lives. But then you'll never know the flu times two. You'll never know the so very vast hole it leaves in your life when they grow up and move on.

Move on. That's the hard part. So much invested time and energy that parents don't really know each other any longer. Not the children's fault but choices we made long ago to not be like our parents who left us home alone or with older siblings, or sitters and continued on with their lives in spite of their family situation. Strangers sleeping in the same room or house more like roommates than married people. Time for the old folks to get it together or get out of each other's way.
I wouldn't trade one second of my life spent with my children. It has been the greatest thing to ever happen to me and I thank the powers that be for that time every day. They could call more often but then things don't change much here so there wouldn't be much news from our end. It's just nice to catch up on their accomplishments, friends, and stuff. But they probably think that's boring to talk about but I love to hear their voices when they describe what's going on for them. I'm as proud as any parent could be of my children and their choices in life. Their courage and strength and convictions. I always will be. And I'll always be on the other end of the phone when and if they ever need me.

But for the women who wanted those twins back when, I just feel sorry for them. They never got to know all the pleasures and pains of having twins but I really don't think they considered all of the realities before they made that wish. So, be careful what you wish for, it just might come true!