So it's almost here. The birthday is almost here. My babies are officially 2 years old tomorrow at 8:35 and 8:36 pm.
I am almost the mother of 2 year old twins. People will stop me and ask if they're twins (they will always stop and ask if they're twins) and then they'll ask, "how old are they?" As if the mismatched outfits, marker-covered arms, and contrary attitudes don't give it away. When they ask this I will say, "They're 2." Maybe I'll say, "They just turned 2," that way my babies won't sound so old.
Today the woman delivering our census asked if Lola and Jackson were twins (as I said, they will always ask if they are twins). Then of course the next question was, "How old are they?" "They'll be two tomorrow," I told her and she looked at me with what I would swear was the tinniest bit of envy. Not one of the looks I usually get. I get curiosity, amazement, and occasionally pity. But not often envy. Her look made more sense when she said she had twins that had just turned 26. She and I are, I'm sure, very different but in one way at that moment we were very much the same. We are so proud our twins have made it this far and still a little sad that so much time has passed.
So much time. 2 whole years. Tomorrow.