Walking out of Noah's school this morning, a man walking in with his daughter held the door open for me pushing the twins through in their double stroller. I thanked him and he said "I've seen you with them before and kept thinking "I'm glad I'm not her, I'm glad I'm not her, I'm glad I'm not her"... and then my wife was "diagnosed" with twins due in September, so we're going to go through that anyway."
I congratulated him and then felt sorry for his wife as I walked away...
I love these twins, even when it's been hard or when I've thought "how can I possibly do that" or "I can't imagine when I'll be able to...".
I proudly drove home. "I'm a twin mom and proud of it" I thought, as Hayden cried the whole way home (he's not feeling well, bad cold) and listened to Nate, who was fascinated by the sound his nose was making as he forced air out past the bugery remnants of his cold.
I'm a lucky mama...
