I counted the oranges. That's how I know what my struggle will be. The older my twins get, the less unique my story. My challenges will become more and more like anyone with closely spaced children because having two two-year-olds or two three-year-olds is not all that different from having one two-year-old and one three-year-old. There will be quite a few more people in my boat as we move along on this journey.

Always wanting to be prepared, I started reading twin-specific books and articles almost as soon as I knew we were expecting our double blessing.  Most of the literature focuses on twins as babies, partly because that is the most unique time, and partly because it’s just hard. 

The majority of what I’ve read past this stage has centered on two topics.  The first is whether or not twins should be in the same class in school or purposefully separated.  I don’t see this as an issue for us.  I fully expect G and M to adapt beautifully to whichever situation they find themselves.  The other theme deals with preserving the individuality of twins.  I admit I worried about this before they were born.  I promised myself I wouldn’t fall into the habit of referring to little M and little G as “the twins.”  This resulted in my constantly referring to them as “the babies.”  I’m not sure that’s any better, except that they will not always be babies so there is a natural end to that habit.

But I no longer worry about their individuality.  They’ve been displaying their inimitable personalities since birth.  G is my sensitive observer, the one who notices every single time I try to slip out of the room, finds any new object fascinating and likes to snuggle.  M never stops.  She’s always after something and is so frustrated that she cannot talk.  I can see in her eyes all the opinions that she desperately wants to share.  I know neither one will let me forget how separate they are.

So what is this struggle that I see in the future?  It’s the notion that fair does not always mean equal.  Life is not fair of course.  Some of us accept this earlier than others, but we all accept it if we ever want to be happy.  But while life is not fair, Mom should be.  I try to be.  And most of the time I’m pretty comfortable that I am. 

Every parent with more than one child wants to be fair.  When your kids are different ages though, fairly different is easily fair.  It doesn’t matter if one could sit at the table without being strapped in a whole year ahead of another or if one gave up naps at a younger age.  You simply try to dole out privileges and responsibilities as they seem appropriate. 

I’m afraid it won’t be as easy with two kids the same age.  Already I’ve occasionally found myself trying to force an impossibly equal treatment for “the babies.”  For example, I cannot physically put two babies to bed at the same time.  Their beds are in separate rooms.  In working out a bedtime routine, I first considered putting one baby to bed first every night, reasoning that at least that would be expected.  Then I thought of alternating so each had equal turns staying up those extra ten minutes.  Then I came to my senses and decided that the best idea was to put to bed first whichever baby seemed more tired (i.e. cranky) regardless of which baby was first on any other night. 

Then there was lunch.  I had opened up a can of mandarin oranges to feed the babies.  At some point, I realized that I was counting the oranges to make sure each baby was getting the same amount.  I made this discovery when I came across a particularly large slice and paused to consider whether it should count as two.  I knew I was being ridiculous even as I knew it was not the first time I had counted their food. 

Of course my husband admits to a different type of forced equality.  He has slipped a few extra Cheerios to whoever weighed less at the last check-up and nudged along the twin who sat up and crawled later than the other.  Both of us are normally rational people.  I’m not concerned about our weird internal hang-ups scarring the children.  (I’m not even worried about M and G accusing me of being unfair.  I already know that’s a given.)  This is just something I’ll be thinking about as they grow. 

The other thing I wonder is whether or not I’ll miss the attention.  There is a definite irony to the fact that as it becomes less and less obvious that M and G are twins, fewer people will feel the need to stop us and ask if they are.  Fewer people will gawk and point us out in a crowd (because of our twins anyway, there will still be those who think four children in one family is some sort of spectacle).  I’ve never liked the extra attention.  It’s hard enough to manage all the buckles involved in car seats and stroller seats without feeling like everyone is watching to see how I do it.  And it’s not my imagination.  I once had someone start clapping in the middle of a parking lot because he was impressed with the way I folded the double stroller. 

But I’ve gotten used to the fact that people regard my babies as something truly special.  Will I feel like we’ve lost something when no one comments on their presence?  Will I find myself telling strangers that M and G are twins when one hits a growth spurt ahead of the other?  Will I be reluctant to let M ride her bike without training wheels until D can get her brother to catch up?  I doubt it.  I think we’ll adapt beautifully to whatever changes our kids throw our way and we will largely do it in private.  But I know better than to say anything with certainty.  I know better than to try and predict the future.  After all, I never would have predicted that we’d have twins.