When my twins were infants, everything felt hard — not like double the effort but some exponential multiplier. Little could we have imagined that by the time they got to age 5, and we all found ourselves suddenly amid a global pandemic, these close-knit siblings would ease the burdens not only on each other but on the whole family.
When our school district shut down in March 2020, my daughter and son were just kindergarteners, having had merely months so far to start finding their way in a big new school across town. They came home with two weeks of the curriculum in their backpacks — but I think we all knew they’d be out longer. Perhaps a month, we thought. (Spoiler alert: We didn’t quite nail our estimate.)
Eventually, kindergarten resumed in the form of an hour a day on Zoom, with teachers and students equally flailing. My kids hadn’t mastered reading or writing yet, but now they were supposed to master technology and its associated etiquette? It wasn’t ideal — and it was far from elegant — but maybe this strange way to wrap up the school year won points for novelty, at least.
Soon enough, school was out for summer. Sure, we couldn’t go on a vacation, or to a theme park — or anywhere, really — but my kids remained upbeat because they had each other as built-in besties under the safety of our roof. They made mud pies in the backyard, splashed in the kiddie pool, and generally entertained each other in a refreshingly analog way.
When first grade started remotely, we’d made the decision — somewhat controversial among parents of multiples — to have our kids in the same classroom. This was a matter of practicality. We have a two-bedroom house, and it’s hard to find separate corners to work on two curricula without battling audio feedback.
“For their entire first-grade year, they rarely left the house as COVID raged and our city at one point became the world epicenter of the disease. It felt like there was an uncontrollable inferno outside these walls. And their world — geographically speaking, at least — became very small.”
Plus, as working parents, we were overwhelmed. My husband was working daily to save his severely impacted business and the livelihood of the employees who depended on it. As a writer, I was trying to get a few unbroken moments to string sentences together before being asked to troubleshoot a tech issue or make a snack. Keeping the kids in the same class streamlined the process at a time when “just get by” was the name of the game.
With the help of excellent teachers, my kids thrived academically in spite of it all. They marched toward mastery of reading and writing. They excelled at math. And they definitely figured out technology.
But they still never saw other kids. For their entire first-grade year, they rarely left the house as COVID raged and our city at one point became the world epicenter of the disease. It felt like there was an uncontrollable inferno outside these walls. And their world — geographically speaking, at least — became very small.
Day stacked upon day and, somehow, 400 days passed. I knew the kids felt the weight of world events (they took turns with disrupted sleep, for instance), but they didn’t collapse under pandemic uncertainty. They invented games, they came up with in-jokes, they kept smiling and laughing.
All things considered, they did OK — and I know this is only because they had each other. Not just womb mates and built-in besties for life, but partners through a pandemic through the eyes of 5- and then 6-year-olds.
Flash forward to August 2021, and my newly minted 7-year-olds are preparing for their return to school — back in person amid normal campus operations (and safety protocols, of course) for the first time in 17 months.
“After so much togetherness in this ever-smaller-feeling house, I’m launching them out to find their own paths. Not as twins, but as individuals, maturing and differentiating more and more with each passing day.”
They’ll each have their own teacher. Their school will be populated with full classrooms, filled with potential friends … not to mention potential frenemies, bullies and cliques. The schoolyard is theirs again to navigate together sometimes, sure — but also separately as individuals. It will be a breeding ground for childhood triumphs and pitfalls. A microcosm of life.
After so much togetherness in this ever-smaller-feeling house, I’m launching them out to find their own paths. Not as twins, but as individuals, maturing and differentiating more and more with each passing day.
I’m nervous, sure. And I’m emotional. (Yes, mommy will cry on the first day of school — guaranteed.) But I’m also tingling with excitement for everything they’ll encounter on their journey as they finally have the chance now to fully explore what it means to be themselves as they head back to school in a most historic year.
