My girls were born at 8:01 and 8:02 a.m. on a nippy February day, screaming in their full pink-faced, harmonious glory. They’ve shared a birthday, a hairbrush, a room, and a mommy for every single moment of their twenty-three plus months.

Today we split them in half. Madeleine was shuttled off with Daddy down to grandma’s house. And I had Charlotte and all of her delicious one-ness to myself.

WHAT JOY!

A twin on her own is like the clichéd kiddo in a candy store. A happy, fulfilled, joyous little creature who has Mommy all to herself.

No sharing. No turns. No wait-just-a-minutes.

No being bonked on the head by the OTHER two-year old who can’t control her urges. No need to screech EVEN LOUDER than that bothersome sibling to get my attention.

Just Mommy and Me.

BLISS.

And what a day we had! Hand-in-hand we waddled on two-year old legs through our neighborhood greeting kitties and mailmen, savoring every single precious focused moment of mutual worship.

“What a delightful creature,” I thought to myself. “Just where the heck did she come from???”

And where the heck did that Creature from the Deepest Lagoon of Whining and Discontent go???

Who would have thought that something as simple as splitting up my Charlotte from her Madeleine for a whole day would be such an important moment for the two of us? A pivotal moment in our mutual admiration – hopefully leading the way down a path of mutual respect and mother-daughter FUNCTION instead of mutual, typical dysfunction.

Who knows? But for the moment, we found each other – a mommy and her daughter.
A day on our own.

By Annie Yearout

Labels: Annie Yearout, time with Mommy, twins

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