Dear ones, today our twins are 17 years old and I should actually let them write this text because I’m no longer part of their everyday lives that often myself. Our home has become a dovecote, sometimes everyone is there, sometimes no one is, sometimes no one knows where the other is, everyone moves through their lives independently.
Big sister packed the removal van yesterday and took her belongings with her to her new home, everything is changing, something new happens every day. I started with Stadt Land Mama when the big one was 6 and the boys were just 4. And now? Big people. Meeting at eye level. Conversations about God and the world.
I have the feeling that puberty is over, at least what it’s known for. The caterpillars had pupated (and barricaded themselves in their rooms) and suddenly the most beautiful butterflies are flying through the house. The doors are opened again and we can once again become part of their world and their view of it, which is so enriching.
I asked them both independently what it means to them to be 17 now, and the twin who is two minutes older replied: „It means a lot to me because I’ll be the biggest of the little ones, the oldest non-18-year-old, the oldest child in the world.“ What thoughts! No more children from next year…
And his brother took a completely different view: „17 is such an age, you can’t do anything with it.“ You can have new things at 16. At 18, too. That’s what he meant. But well, the driving licence for accompanied driving, that’s coming soon, they’ll do it soon, the last driving lessons are scheduled. Pay for two driving licences at the same time – then accompanied driving.
Who gets to drive mum’s car today? That’s going to be fun 😉 So much simultaneity with twins. But also: so much closeness. I’ve often mentioned it, but I always have to say it in retrospect: from the age of about 5 to about 14, they fought every day, swore at each other, didn’t allow each other butter on their bread. And today? Like a miracle.
Often like best friends, but sometimes more, when they get out of their 45 car with their blonde curls, when one of them drives to his driving test without his brother and the other writes to him: Brudi, I’m getting really nervous, are you nervous? So it’s not a rumour that twins sometimes empathise with each other, even if they are far apart. It used to be unthinkable for them to praise each other to the skies after a football match, but at the weekend one of them came up to me and said that his brother had been the man of the match.
When I was tidying up this week, I had pictures in my hand of them sitting there with those big helmets, behind the photo was an information sheet about the risk of transfer for one of them and behind that was the one for the other. Sometimes the two of them made it really exciting and then again they surprised us so often.
Happy birthday, twins!
Boys, you’re like no one else, you’ve been in a tight-knit group for years and yet you’re also friends outside of it and each on your own. You are each other’s world, nobody is closer to you and if I don’t stop now, I’ll start clapping with pride and melancholy and memories and overwhelm, so I’ll just say a quick HAPPY BIRTHDAY and thank you for letting us accompany your very last year as „kids“ so closely and with such fascination.
