Story-time with Nikita

Life With Two (The Other Side of Hell)

I recently overheard my kids—aged five and three, respectively—conversing with each other about safety while working together to transform the littlest’s crib into a fighter jet “with big flames that shoot out the back when we turn on the engine.” The littlest (who is mostly lax on the safety front) was making a case for having no roof on the aircraft. The eldest (the cautionary king) was arguing that the jet needs a roof because, without a roof, they would surely fall out upon takeoff.

This is the shit I live for.

With every human added to a household comes a personality—and life becomes a constant dance of conflicting character traits. Of course, there is (a lot of) chaos involved in such a dance, but as the kids grow into themselves, a balance begins to emerge. You see that the yin is growing alongside the yang. They challenge each other in a way that is so important. They show one another that there’s more than one way to be. They force each other out of their respective comfort zones and test one another’s limits every day.

I get it now.

For years I cursed the people who said a two-year age gap would be “so great”—the first two years were not so great. They were fucking bananas. And, frankly, if I had not written it all down at the time, today I would have almost no recollection of the days detailed here. But, as someone who has survived Life with Two (The Early Days), I need you to know what lies in a faraway land where everyone is toilet trained and capable of leaving you alone for a hot minute.

Yes, they fight. Yes, it’s terrible when they do, because how could the two things that have both resided inside my body so badly want to tear each other to shreds? But despite the “epic battles” and the sword fights in the toilet bowl (undeterred by my best attempts to enforce a “sit-down-pee-only” policy at home), we’re finally in a place where there is symbiosis.

We’re four crazies under one roof. Loving each other. Helping each other. Teaching each other. Respecting each other. Accepting each other. We’re a team now. Finally. And a damn good one at that.