Twinspeak

Having not written on twins for quite awhile (see here and here), I have been promising my grandmother-of-twins friend a new post on my twin experiences. Here are my most recent reflections on the uniqueness of twins (bearing in mind, of course, that I know no other way! And I can't be sure if twinness is the cause of these things, or something else)

Best of Friends, Worst of Enemies

I think, of all of the aspects of twindom that we have experienced recently, this is the most powerful. The kids have a real love-hate relationship. They have the ability to make each other happier, angrier, sadder, more excited than anyone else can. Sis can make Bud laugh harder than anyone; Bud can make her madder than anyone else can. They bring out the best and worst in each other, with moods being much more contagious than any germs (which, oddly, they rarely seem to pass to one another). This probably explains why they are rarely interested in other children: they much prefer each other's company, or no company at all. Because, like magnets, they are always stuck together. Unless they are repelling one another! But for now, they can't imagine sleeping without the other nearby or being in separate classrooms. They help one another complete tasks; "teamwork" is one of their favorite concepts. They are always yelling "wait for me" when one twin takes off faster or begins something earlier than the other. And even though they never engaged in any twinspeak, oftentimes they are the first or only ones to understand the other's ideas, jokes, games, wants, or needs. I get asked all the time, right after "are they twins?", if they get along. And the answer is, like most siblings, they get along except when they don't. But, perhaps unlike other siblings, I think they will always be connected to one another, positively or negatively, not indifferent or distance or not close. I think it's some kind of twin co-dependence or symbiosis (though, I haven't checked my theory with any adult twins).

Olympic-Sized Competitors

Bigger. Faster. Longer. Stronger. Better. Everything can become a competition. Because they do everything together and are learning new skills at approximately the same rate, they always want to one-up their sibling. It's a challenge to stress that they are both wonderful, capable individuals with unique traits and talents. Especially when one is always faster than the other, one can always write more clearly than the other. And of course, I am often at the center of the competition, not just positioned as the judge ("Mom, my gingerbread house is better, right?") but also as prize. They still rarely adhere to the "one knee for each" rule and can't often bear to see their twin absorb my attention without wanting theirs RIGHT NOW! I try to do his turn-her turn, but they don't grasp delayed gratification well when it comes to Mom. We tried to do separate outings, with my taking one twin out each afternoon the babysitter came, but Sis couldn't bear the days it was Bud's turn, even if she'd had a great turn already herself. That system is on hiatus for a bit until I figure out how to avoid the weeping she would do all day leading up to and during the outing. Yep, jealousy is at the center of a lot of the competition, with one wanting what the other has or has done, hence the upset about the outings or the infamous gingerbread tea party, which still upsets Bud. Perhaps it is because they are so desperate to both differentiate themselves from their sibling but also to remain connected, the same. Sometimes, they are so desperate not to have to share, and then next they are so desperate to be the same. Next year with separate classes for kindergarten should be quite a challenge, which is why we are planning on only half-day; they couldn't bear to be separated for 8 whole hours yet.

Separate But Equal

The competition bit segues directly into the important "separate but equal" rule. Everything must be fair. Equal. But different. Unless, of course, it should be the same. Bud wants strawberry; Sis wants chocolate. She likes bunnies and is excited about Easter; he prefers penguins and insists there is an Easter Penguin. He's blue; she's all about pink. She wants the girl happy meal toy, unless the boy one is cool, and vice versa. He eats pizza; she eats chicken fingers. Then there are the times they must match--she often dictates when they are going to wear matching t-shirts or insists that they play something exactly the same way, with matching pillow houses or block structures. And of course, they get upset when the other won't follow the rules (see below). Finally, I think there is a twin pact that, if I give them a choice, they are obligated to choose oppositely. Do you want to go to the library or the playground? They never choose the same. And then I have to be the tie-breaker, which invites all sorts of unwanted sibling jealousy (I remember my mom being in the middle of Aunt Banana and I choosing opposites, such as to eat at the deli or not, and having trouble figuring out how to make a decision fairly). So I'm an eeny-meeny-miney-mo/coin toss expert. I can't wait til they understand even-odd numbers because then the date will be the tie-breaker (she'd be even and he'd be odd, based on the times they were born and the number of letters in their names). Finally, I think gender will instill in them the strongest sense of separate identities, particularly in elementary school as the genders begin to divide themselves. For now, they both play with both gender-stereotyped toys: she loves blocks and knights and tools while he loves his tutu and dancing. They don't really understand why people are divided or excluded by gender (such as the gingerbread party), but they hear a lot of talk of boys- or girls-only at school and are picking up the lingo (which we strongly resist and disallow as much as possible). And she does sometimes ask for "girl" things or he asks why boys can't do something; I can see their confusion. I can only hope we are instilling a respect, even an understanding of the other, before they are separated (ideologically? theoretically?) for . . . how long does that last? Anyway, with both a boy and a girl, I sometimes joke that we could do amateur gender studies or nature vs. nurture experiments. I would've said gender identity was often the result, even subconsciously, of parenting and culture; but, mercy, sometimes it seems to come straight from their DNA.

Who's In Charge Here?

Of course, I'm officially in charge, but truth is, they spend a lot of time trying to dominate one another. Just the other day, Sis kept reminding Bud about a dinner table rule, and Bud objected, "Quit controlling me!" Sis replied coolly, "I'm controlling myself." Sis is like Mom #3 most of the time (with our cat Hermione being Mom #4, but that's another post), reminding Bud of the rules, tattling on him to me when he doesn't follow them (even if they don't affect her), and in general trying to get him to do what she likes. He of course similarly tries to force her to play the way he wants, but it doesn't happen as often. The preschool teachers say she is a classic first-born girl. (And, with two first-born girl moms, rules and order, particularly to control the boy, are important. Poor Bud.) And four, even according to the AAP, is a bossy age. Even so, that doesn't mean they like the rules enforced on themselves--anytime one tests a rule, like don't stand on the couch, the other one will immediately do the same thing to test if the rule applies to all. So, I constantly find myself saying things twice. And reminding them that I'm the mom and I'm in charge and I will be the one to worry about what the other twin is doing, so long as they take care of themselves. None of it seems to have an effect though!

Twin Culture

People rarely identify them as twins anymore. It must be the missing double stroller. Or that they aren't clearly, i.e. identical, twins. Sometimes, I think people forget that boys and girls can be twins. But really, they are almost exactly the same size--do you really think they are more than 9 months apart? When people ask their ages, I say, "oh, they're four." And the people stammer, "what? You mean they're twins?" Yep, twins. And Sis and Bud don't really know what it means to be twins. I don't think they grasp that not all siblings were born on the exact same day, even though we don't play often with any other twins and most of their friends have younger siblings (which clearly mystify Bud and Sis, who aren't that fond of most toddlers--too much interference, not enough fun). Of course, for me, it's hard to think of them as anything other than twins. When I'm talking about them, I always mention them in the plural; if I say something about one, I'm obliged to mention the other. When I'm out with just one and someone comments, I feel the need to mention that they are twins. I can't conceive of them separately (I know, punny). Of course, I recognize their different characters and (believe) I do a good job at not comparing them. People then often say, "oh, twins, that must be extra hard." Well, I say, it's all hard, right? And I don't really know any differently. Besides, I look now at my friends with preschoolers and toddlers--with different interests, abilities, schedules--and am grateful mine are in synch, even if it was a steep learning curve in the beginning and seems to cost more (perhaps even take up more space) because we need two of everything and can't rely on intra-family hand-me downs (like cribs, high chairs, tricycles, etc etc).

Okay, Miss D-with-a-Y, that's all they'll let me write today and it's about all I can think up about twins for now . . . you have a lot of wonderful things to look forward to, but different too, as your grandchildren are both girls, which is a whole other experience.