Mike Crider’s twin girls are almost 1,000 days old. And he has a few words for them.
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Dear M and N,
You are closing in on an important milestone that people rarely talk about. You are very, very close to 1000 days old, and I want to reflect on what a journey those days have been for you and for me.
I remember when you were born. M, you weighed four pounds, and N weighed five-and-a-half. I could hold both of you in the palm of my hand. I remember the nurse gave you, M, to your Nana (my mother-in-law), who quickly pointed out that I needed to be the first to hold you. I remember seeing how peaceful you were when you had just come out of the womb. Even at barely over four pounds, you only needed a bath and some food and you were ready to snuggle. N, I remember that you woke anyone up at the hospital that may have been asleep at the time of your birth. You needed help breathing at first, but you were wrapped up in a blanket and given to me to hold, while I handed M off to your Nana. It was then that I realized I was the father of twins. Even though I knew at our first ultrasound, it was when I met you that it became a reality.
We took you both home after a mere three days in the hospital. You were so small you barely fit in the car seat. Even though the ride home was only a mile, your mother and I held our breath the entire way. Your nursery was decorated and ready for you, the closet stuffed with diapers others had given to us. You were born during a heat wave in July, and it was so hot outside that we didn’t go out much with you. Before long, however, you quickly caught on that you were unique in many ways, because you were twins and had someone to share your adventure with.
You both got teeth the day after Christmas. You were a little over five months old, and none of us could believe it, since we had not noticed it the day before when everyone ate way too much. You would use those teeth a lot, biting teething toys, my finger, and eventually each other. M, you started crawling at seven months, and we knew our world would not be the same afterwards. You wanted to go everywhere, and your poor sister couldn’t figure out how to do what you were doing. But, as twins do, N caught up, and started crawling at nine months old. Funny enough, she started walking at fourteen months, when you were still watching her and trying to mimic what she would do. From the time N started to crawl she insisted on trying to stand up, and she eventually did, and eventually didn’t need me to hang on to her anymore to do it. N started to walk to get away from you, and learned rather quickly that she could run when she needed to. But, as twins do, you figured it out too, and you started walking at fifteen-and-a-half months. From there, you both chased each other, learned to climb on the couch, fed each other food, and learned to fight and love only the way twins can.
We’ve been through a lot already. Just the staggering amount of times we’ve taken both of you to the doctor for RSV, colds, viruses, bronchitis, ear infections, and strep have added up to a fine amount of visits. We’ve been through several rounds of shots, and each time it has hurt me to watch you get stuck with a needle as much as it hurt you to have to endure it. We’ve survived the biting stages and the fighting stages, and even though I know you will always fight, as it is a part of growing up with someone, you will always love each other. You’ve learned to call each other by name, you recognize that you are “Sissy” to each other, and you constantly check on each other when you are apart.
It has also been a joy to watch you progress from preemie formula to eating a banana, and from going from rice cereal to eating…rice. You both have always had healthy appetites, and I remember when we first fed you green beans from the jar of baby food. N especially, you licked your lips, and after you figured out what the spoon was for, you smiled. You went from that initial enjoyment to splitting an adult-sized can of green beans with your twin sister.
And yet, maybe the greatest joy has been interacting with you. You have learned to talk, identify objects, identify colors and shapes, and are learning your alphabet and numbers. You both are so intelligent in your own ways and it makes me smile inside and out to see you blooming into the beautiful flowers that I know you will become. We have had to go from guessing why you hurt and where you hurt when you cry to being able to specifically tell us that “Sissy” was the root cause for 95% of your ailments. You both have your own unique voices, pitches, and interesting ways of pronouncing different words. You are searching for the “right” way to say things between your mother’s Southern accent and my Midwestern dialect.
You both are now preschoolers. You are now closer to kindergarten than the day you were born, and you sometimes do things that make me think you belong there now. I am so proud of the girls you have become, and I hope that I can be the father you need to find your fullest potential.
If a 75-year-old person counts in days, they will have lived for 27,375 days. You are at a mere 1,000, but it will go quickly. I love you, and I hope you will cherish every day and make it count. You have filled my last thousand with joy.
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photo courtesy of author