Margot
had a fever. She had had it off and on since
Sunday evening. She had been up for a
good part of the night on Sunday night and then again for a good part of the
night on Monday night. Both nights Margot
and I ended up in the guest room together, neither of us sleeping very well. Now it was Tuesday morning. A school day.
She would not be going to school today.
Margot not going to school was not a problem. Flynn going to school without Margot would be a problem. By himself? For the first time? A big problem. How would I break the news to him?
To
state the obvious, twins are together all the time. They’re never without their best friend, their
wingman, someone to give them a bit more confidence when they go out into the
world – together. Flynn and
Margot have spent very little time apart from one another. Margot took swimming lessons last summer
while Flynn didn't. Each of them has
gone to Los Angeles with Papa for his work.
That's about it. This would be different.
Flynn
is very attached to Margot; honestly, more than Margot is attached to him. If you ask him who he plays with at school,
he’ll tell you “Margot.” If you ask him
who his best friend at school is, he 'll tell you “Margot.” Margot knows the names of other kids at
school; I am not sure that Flynn does or cares. At
school Flynn and Margot sit at the same table together, they play together, and
they eat lunch together. At the school’s
cultural celebrations, they sing and dance next to each other.
Going to school without Margot was going to
be a very big deal for Flynn. There were
going to be tears.
Before
breakfast I sat down in the big chair in the kids’ room and pulled Flynn onto
my lap. “Flynn, Margot isn’t feeling
well today so she can’t go to school.”
“Me
stay home too,” he said.
“No,
Flynn you have to go to school.”
The
tears came swiftly as I knew they would.
“Me not want to go to school by myself!
Me want to go with Margot!”
I
hugged him. “Flynn, I know you don’t
want to go to school by yourself but you need to go to school today. We’ll go together. You can ride on my shoulders all the way to
school and all the way home! Won’t that be fun?”
“Nooo! Me no want to go to school by myself!” he
said, crying.
I really wanted to tell
him he could stay home. I was
tired. I had been up with Margot two
nights in a row. My FitBit
told me I had gotten only four hours of sleep that night. I was imagining Flynn crying all the way to
school, through the park and on the bus, and then clinging to my leg and crying
when I tried to leave him for the day by himself. I had so much to do at work. Why couldn't I leave Flynn at home with Mari, go straight to
work and avoid all of the drama? It
would be so much easier for both of us.
At
that point Margot came in. “Why is Flynn
crying?”
“Margot,
since you’re not feeling well today you have to stay home from school, and
Flynn doesn’t want to go by himself.”
And
then Margot started crying, which I hadn’t seen coming. “Maestra mad if I don’t come to school!”
“No,
Maestra won’t be mad. She’ll be sad but
she won’t be mad.”
“I
don’t want Maestra to be sad!” she said crying even more.
So,
there I sat in the big chair in the kids’ room.
Flynn on my lap in his Christmas nightgown crying because he had to go
to school but didn’t want to, and Margot standing in front of me in her
Pull-up crying because she couldn’t go to school but did want to.
I
needed to change the subject. “Let’s
have breakfast.”
Downstairs,
I texted Ken. “Margot’s still sick. I was up
part of the night with her. She can’t go
to school When I told Flynn he was going
to school he burst into tears because he doesn’t want to go by himself. Margot then burst into tears because she
wanted to go because her teachers will be sad if
she doesn’t come. I have a ton going
on and don’t know that today is the day Flynn has to fly solo at school. It would be good for him but not sure if
today is the day I can make that happen.”
Ken
texted back. “I think he should go by himself.”
“I
know that,” I thought to myself. That
wasn’t the question. The question was
whether I could be lazy or if I had to be strong and make him go to school by
himself.
Apparently I was going to have to be strong. There was no getting out of this – for Flynn or for me.
Apparently I was going to have to be strong. There was no getting out of this – for Flynn or for me.
Mari
arrived and I told her Margot would be staying home with her and Flynn would be
going to school. “Solo?” she asked in
Spanish. “Si, solo.” Mari gave me a look that very clearly said, “Are
you sure about this?”
So,
at 8:00 a.m., after more tears and protests from both Flynn and Margot, Flynn
and I left the house. On the porch, I
asked him if he wanted to ride on my shoulders.
He nodded without a word and wiped his tears with his sleeve. I hoisted him up on my shoulders and we left
for school.
The
walk to school with Flynn was wonderful.
I have often thought about how very different my trips to preschool with
Flynn and Margot are from my trips with Coco.
Coco and I had conversations on the way to school. She would ask a string of questions (mostly “Why?”
“Why?” “Why?”) and I would try to answer them as best I could. She would tell me about things that popped
into her head. She would ride on my
shoulders. If we were late for the train
I’d pick her up and run for it.
Flynn
and Margot, on the other hand, play with each other on the way to school. They run around, hang on to poles, jump off front porches, hide
in doorways and point out circles and squares on the sidewalk. They are very clearly a team of two. Thing One and Thing Two. While sometimes I might get brief fragments
of conversation from them, for the most part I merely accompany them and herd them down the
sidewalk and on and off the bus. I sometimes
put them up on my shoulders but that always involves negotiating taking turns
and making sure the turns are not “No fair!” If we're late for the bus, there's no picking them both up and running for it.
So,
taking just Flynn to school was wonderful.
He rode on my shoulders the whole way to school. High up on my shoulders he reached up to touch the
tree leaves and the street signs not worried about sharing or taking turns. Whether it was because he was nervous about going
to school by himself or because he didn’t have Margot to play with, he talked
with me the whole way.
When
we arrived at school without Margot the teachers knew this was a big day for
Flynn. They gave me looks and nodded, acknowledging
the event. One teacher whispered to me, “I
have your telephone number. I call if
any problem.” I said thank you. I gave Flynn a hug and a kiss good-bye and
turned to leave. He didn’t cling, he
didn’t cry. He went about his business of
finding a place to play. At the end of the
day when I picked him up, he was happily building a castle with his
teacher. He didn’t immediately want to
leave as soon as I arrived, he wanted to play for a few more minutes so we did. He rode on my shoulders all the way home. It was a good day for Flynn. And it was a good day for Daddy too.
So
what about Margot? Mari told me later
that around the middle of the morning Margot wanted to get dressed. And she wanted to put on a pretty dress with
tights. After her dress and her tights
were on she announced to Mari, “Me go to school now.” Margot was determined to go to school. Around noon I texted Mari to see how Margot
was feeling, if her fever was gone. After
my text my phone rang almost immediately.
It was a call from Mari. When I answered,
though, it was Margot on the phone.
“Hi,
Daddy.”
“Hi, Margot. How are you feeling?”
“Good.”
She said. “When are you going to take me
to school?” She was still determined to
go to school.
“I’m
sorry, Pumpkin, you can’t go to school today.”
“Oh,
me want to go to school.” Margot was all dressed up, in a pretty dress and tights,
waiting to go to school. She'll go to school on Thursday.