I occasionally think God knew that having six children was going to be difficult for me, so he purposely blessed me with my little (almost) Irish twins. It's not that they, as individual children, are any more special than any of my other children (yes, I love them all equally, and I'm not just saying that because I'm "supposed" to), but there's something special about how close in age they are and watching that bond develop as they get older is really fun. It's especially interesting because they typify our two "stains" of children that we seem to consistently produce. The delicate, fine-boned (although, let me tell you, looks can be deceiving) brown-haired version, and the sturdy, bubbly blond-haired version. They wear the same size clothes for the first time ever, and I'm stressing about how I'm going to manage that this summer. But mostly it's just a great joy and pleasure to look back in the car and see them side by side in their identical carseats, or snuggled up together in the full-size bed they share, or to listen to their hilarious conversations. I would have never chosen this on my own, but somehow God does manage to give you exactly what you need, doesn't He?