Delaney's Blog

Delaney started a blog this Thanksgiving weekend. One of the things she put in the “about me” section was that she is a twin. I found this amusing, given all the times she walks around saying, “I hate my sister.” She also wrote that that she has two moms. That actually did surprise me. She’s fine with having two moms. But she doesn’t always want to tell people. She declined, though, to explain that her two moms do not live together anymore.

We’ve been talking about the blog for a couple of weeks—ever since she wrote a story about her life. She and her best friend, Ava, are starting a publishing company. They even made signs, listing each story for four dollars. Dixon was supposed to be part of it, too, but she came upstairs and said to me, somewhat distressed, “Mom, I don’t want to be a writer.” I hugged her and told her she could do or not do anything she wants. But I also secretly thanked their scientist sperm donor. At least one of my kids has a fighting chance of not being some sort of artist.

Delaney, I’m afraid, is doomed. And, yet, I still find a little glimmer of hope.

When I first suggested the blog, she got completely excited. Then I suggested she post the story she was writing, and she got indignant.

One of the signs she made for their publishing business.

“No, mom, that story is to sell. What I want to put on the blog is a thing that says, ‘We have stories to sell and call us to get one.’”

I think this shows promise that my child might be able to feed herself when she gets older.

But for now she just needs to write, so I thought it might be a good idea to start the blog with another story. She wrote her fist installment about her search for a cat. And I sat next to her, watching her not need much of my help in forming the paragraphs.

Did I mention that she turns 8 in a month?

She even put a sign in our front window.

What I find interesting is that as she has learned to read and write, her personality is settling in more. The other thing she put on her profile is that today she is happy about four things: her family, the fact that she’s getting glasses, her first-ever e-mail account, and starting a blog.

You will forgive me if it’s starting to dawn on me that I’m raising a nerd. And, I’m afraid, a bit of a mama’s girl. Her sister went to a sleepover at Ava’s this Friday after Thanksgiving. Delaney opted to stay with me. And write.

This is not the first time they’ve been separated, but it’s pretty rare. The first time was about a year and a half ago. Dixon had a birthday party to go to on the Saturday she was supposed to be with Connie, my ex. They were both ecstatic to be apart. At one point, I asked Dixon if she missed her sister. “No,” came the answer. Like lightening.

Delaney sometimes will list the people she loves most in the world, and it will include Ava, but not her sister. Pointedly not her sister. Just to get a rise out of her. And yet, the night they were first apart, Delaney called.

“Hi mom.”

“Hi Delaney, watcha doin?”

“We just baked a cake. I’ll bring you some. Where’s Dixon?”

“She’s right here, you wanna talk to her?”

Without waiting for an answer, I handed the phone to Dixon. Her face completely lit up. Her entire demeanor changed, like she came to life. I could hear Delaney through the phone and I realized as I watched Dixon that this was the first time they’d ever talked to each other on the phone. And they were so happy. I could feel the connection through the line.

At the end of their conversation Dixon says, almost as an afterthought, “Delaney you’re the best sister in the world.” Then she handed the phone back to me and it sounded like Delaney was in mid-sentence, so I asked her if she just heard what her sister said. She stopped talking and gave me a drawn out, satisfied “Yeah.”

So, I think that’s where the “I’m a twin” part of her profile came from tonight. She was separated from her sister. She asked if she could sleep in my bed tonight, because it was too spooky to be alone in her room.

But she needn’t have worried. Dixon called about 10:30 saying she was homesick. We picked her up, fed her a snack and all jumped into my bed, where they laid side by side giggling and playing, trying to define their no-kick boundaries; Delaney displaying a giddiness I hadn’t seen all evening; Dixon submitting to her relief at being home and literally, in the midst of her family.

And then came the line that made me realize that today truly was the first step on a glorious journey. Or maybe it just made me realized the child is definitely doomed. As they were kicking each other and giggling, Delaney said, “Oh, god, I have got to write about this.”