There’s something magical about being the mother of twins, especially identical twins. It’s like having a front-row seat to a one-man show, except there are two actors on the stage in front of you. They move with perfect ebb and flow–finishing each other’s sentences and speaking for one another when the need arises. It’s as if they are two performers who know each other’s lines and blocking by heart. They are the middle children in our family, but they prefer one another’s company to all others.

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There’s something mysterious about being the mother of mirror-image identical twins. They instinctively wake up at the same time each morning, just a few feet away from each other in their side-by-side beds. They hop up and somehow know the plan for the day without discussing it. One is right-handed and needs glasses for his right eye. One is left-handed and needs glasses for his left eye. They fall asleep within minutes of one another every night, often having quiet conversations about Star Wars or LEGOs or Minecraft as their eyes close.

There’s something exhausting about being the mother of boy twins.

The wrestling matches are ongoing, high energy. The furniture will never recover from the constant catapulting of bodies and attempts to create an indoor trampoline park. The amount of food consumed morning, noon, and night has increased exponentially with each year. Their new shoes are currently a size larger than mine, and they are excited for the day they will pass me in height . . . as well as be able to hit every doorway in the house in a single bound. The happy banter and occasional bickering and being buddies all day long fill our home and my heart.

There’s something hilarious about being the parent of twins. Once at a diner when they were toddlers, a cashier swiped my credit card then stood on her tiptoes to admire the boys who stared up at her with their big blue eyes and sprinkled donuts. “They are adorable! Having twins is such good luck in my culture!” The register made a funny noise as she accidentally leaned on it. Several confused minutes went by, and the manager was called. “Ma’am, it looks like we added money to your card. Our mistake. Breakfast is on us!” I took that as a sign twins are indeed lucky.

There’s something that makes you very aware of other twins in the world as you observe your own.

My boys will forever hold a grudge against Disney for omitting the twins in A Wrinkle in Time. I explained not all characters in a book are included in a movie, but my words fell flat. They sat in silent shock when Fred died in Harry Potter but George survived. They are intrigued by twin tennis players, entrepreneurs, and entertainers. They are the first to spot another pair of twins in an airport or at the park and instantly report if they are fraternal or identical. They were one of three sets of twins in their preschool and affectionally referred to all six as “us” or “we” when describing their time all together on the playground–their own demographic.

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Ten years ago, a doctor told me that identical twins are simply a fluke of nature–a cell that did not divide as it should but instead decided to proliferate into two human beings, just by chance. I only half-bought that theory. I think the single cell that started as my boys knew exactly what it was doing when it divided, and more than likely, it did so completely on purpose. So, whether it was science or chance or divine intervention, they are here as was intended. My twins play, fight, laugh, and live in perfect synchrony.

This is the magic of twins.

Alexis Linehan

Alexis is a child of God, the wife to a military man, an occupational therapist, and the mama of four very energetic small humans. She loves reading, writing, singing, and going on amazing camping adventures with her family. She is a team member and writer for The Military Mom Collective. Her day begins with a cup of coffee and ends as her youngest asks for a story or two or ten. You can follow her on Facebook at This End Up in Life or visit her website