I sat in work today and cried.
Fortunately the workshop we were delivering had finished, everyone had left, and I was left reflecting on the week ahead.
A week in which my babies turn 5.
By the time everyone wakes up, B and E will really be 5.
And I don’t know how it happened.
I know we have lived it, I know- especially in the early days- we wondered how we’d all survive.
And yet somehow, we’ve reached a day when my boys will be five.
I was brought down to earth with a bump. I phoned Mr J as I waited for my train home. E has been fighting again.
To alleviate this, we have both spoken with the boys, and both have separately declared E was beating up on B, and no-one else.
The dilemma of twins. They only treat each other badly. And yet every night I will find them cwtching up together in one single bed, despite two being available.
And that’s it.
They haven’t changed so much.
But now they are part of our family of five.
And I can’t imagine life without them.
And I can’t imagine how these boys, with their sprawling limbs, who weigh their head on my tummy to watch films, ever fitted inside me.
But proudly I wear my badge, that there was a time when I had three heartbeats.
And now my heart just beats a little louder, a little more anxiously, as these babies of mine grow, to the boisterous boys they have become.
And where my nerves used to be wrangled with whether I could provide for them, now they are wrangled with the adventure these boys pursue with every breath.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We’ve five years under our belt.
And as much as I miss the moments, I can’t wait for the next five.