Twin Crazy Nana Nutkin

I was not born a twin but descended from a colorful one. My great grandfather Basil Hampton Blakeney was one and also had a pair of twin brothers. He was lovingly called B. H. or “Bonehead” by the family.

Although I thought that twins would be fun, I was blessed with five children spread out over 17 years. (Never had two in diapers at the same time. I guess I couldn’t have said that if I’ve had twins.)

 With one son beginning his senior year in high school and another beginning seventh grade, you’d think my life was calming down.

But no! My “over-achiever” son and his wife delivered twin girls last week. AND six days later my daughter had her first girl. My cup runneth over!

After delivering my grandson to his first day in pre-K 4, I discovered that the strain of it all had rubbed off on him.

“I hear you have a new baby sister,” the teacher said.” What’s her name?”

He stuttered, “Charlotte?” “No,Olivia?”

I saved him, “Your baby sister’s name is Lainey”. But even I had to stop a minute to think it through.

I read that research from the University of Utah reveals that the mothers of twins tend to live longer than mothers of singles.
That may be right but I’m thinking it may reduce the longevity of the grandmothers. Ya think?

I also read that once you’ve had a set of fraternal twins you are three or four times more likely to do it again. Woopee!

Honestly my husband and I have truly enjoyed having our grandsons home with us while their mother and father recover from having little Lainey. But I can’t help but believe that the younger generation recovers a heck of a lot more quickly than we do.

The first time I saw the twin girls roll their heads together my heart melted. How wonderful to have such closeness and intimacy. A study in Italy suggests that in utero twins deliberately begin interacting with each other as early as 14 weeks. I guess the fighting doesn’t begin until 32 months later.

 I suppose, sadly, that I have become lazy, grumpy and selfish. Where is the mother who tirelessly stripped the soiled sheets every morning, packed the lunches and drove the tots to kindergarten? I guess she became the grandmother who now only has to take her self-sufficient 13-year-old to and from school, football, etc. AND this blessed teen helps me with my grandchildren!  How did I ever make it without him in raising his four older siblings?

I commend my grown children for their courage and hope. I did warn them. “Once you have children your life is forfeit. There’s not much time for selfishness. The life of a mother is characterized by patience and self-sacrifice!” How beautiful to see that in my children.

Reese surprised me the other day with another statistic. “Mom, it says that there’s a higher chance of having twins after you’re 50.” I assured him that I was pretty sure that no 14 week fetuses would be frolicking in my womb anytime soon.

In the meantime- and with the promise of school starting next week- I am hopeful to conquer this melancholy and old age fatigue. (Oh, did I mention that I fractured my foot while mountain biking with my middle child?) There’s no self-pity here, really!

Seriously, I am over the moon delighted with my three precious granddaughters. I am immensely proud of their parents and grateful that they are such giving capable adults. My hats off to all the parents of twins out there. May their energy and tribes increase. And to the grandparents who love them—Lets just hang on.

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