Our nursery furniture has arrived! The small second bedroom in our small Brooklyn apartment is now basically wall-to-wall crib, and our rocking chair is jammed between the dresser and the Diaper Genie with barely enough room to actually rock, but I'm ecstatic.
Playing house was my primary occupation for my entire childhood, and I've fantasized about decorating a baby's room (and filling it with real, live, actual babies!) forever. And while it's true the room would look so much cuter and roomier with just one crib (not to mention just one playmat, Bobby, Bumbo chair, and set of clothing), sitting in the rocker with barely enough room to stretch my legs, I feel so incredibly lucky to be having twins.
I don't really believe in a god and I know our twins are the result of simple IVF statistics, but it really does seem like maybe someone was watching me, 25 years ago or so, as I held four dolls at a time, diapering and feeding and dressing and soothing them for hours on end. "Okay," that someone said, "I'll give her two."