No Max

Colin's new room
Recently my sons decided they were going to get separate rooms, or rather my entire family, wife included, finally convinced me the boys should have separate rooms.

I always knew this day would come, but it my mind it was going to coincide with something else, like college. 

I just always imagined the boys sharing a room. The place where they play together and pretend to sleep when they're actually talking. We'd read stories and listen to music.

There really is no rhyme or reason for this fantasy, it's just how I preferred to think about it. In my mind, they were going to be best buds, and play tricks on us, conspiring like Huck Finn and Mark Twain, sitting under a blanket with nothing but a flashlight to lay out complex plans. This is similar to the room my brother and I shared until my parents had a feeling that there may be bloodshed so they split us up and put me on the third floor. I thought my boys would be different, because they're twins.

Did I mention my view is antiquated? Of course I know that, but still...

I enjoy watching the dynamic between the boys, and support the way they strive for their own identity. It's something people often remark about. So I shouldn't be surprised that they are seeking their own space.

Seeing twins develop their own personalities is a good thing, I know this. I never wanted them to dress alike, or always do the same things. I supported them in separate classes at school, and understood that their interests and aptitudes would be different. But why separate rooms? And more importantly, why didn't I see this coming? Did I miss something along the way? Have they been unhappy for a long time? Did they stay together just to keep me happy?

Of course I see the irony in this dilemma. I am the grown-up and am supposed to be the model of maturity and judgement. I represent change and growth. And yet, I, probably more so than anyone in my family, has the most trouble with this. I used to get mad at my wife for constantly rearranging the furniture. I like things the way they are. My life tells a different story, but as an adult I find myself seeking comfort in habit.  There's an even bigger picture.

I have enjoyed fatherhood since the boys were born. I loved to sit with them when they were infants and  read while they slept on my chest. I liked taking them for walks before they could talk and watch them learn and recognize the world around them. I remember their first words, and their first steps. As they get older, though, it is apparent they need me less and less. And yes, I know this is a good thing and it is part of the cycle of life, but can't we prolong it just a little bit more? Can't I just keep them together little longer? Do we have to jump right to the stage where they make signs keeping one another out of their rooms rather than longing for the moments that they lay together for warmth and comfort?

This is clearly an emotional argument, not a rational one, and I know that I still have a few years before they go off to college, but it's becoming more and more evident that the day will come when they depart. So I will spend the next twelve years coming to terms with the impending separation, and will hopefully be ready when they make their leap into adulthood. Or I will struggle with it and continue to be consoled by wife, who clearly is better at dealing with this than I am.