The Boys: Raising Identical Twins

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2010-03-13T20:25:00.001-05:00

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Freaks, wierdos, slapstick duos: identical twins on television

2010-03-11T23:32:00.001-05:00

After a long, hard swimming lesson today, Matthew and Jonathan kicked back on the sofa with a couple sippies of milk (white for Jonathan; chocolate for Matthew) and tuned into an episode of Olivia, the animated series about an imaginative girl pig who is obsessed with red.
I didn't catch all of it, but I found myself pulled in when Olivia introduced a set of identical twin pigs, who were boys. She mixed up their names, of course, and they pointed out her error. Olivia's response? She laughed and referred to them instead as, simply, "twins."
The identical boys then performed the equivalent of a circus act.
This from Nick Jr., the network that proclaims to defy stereotypes and introduce children to a diversity of peoples and cultures with such shows as Dora the Explorer and Ni Hao Kia-Lan.
I have always been annoyed by the portrayal of identical twins in film and in television. When they are the main characters, they sometimes fare well. But when they are secondary characters, they are most often the slapstick duos, the wierdos, the freaks.
They are not hard to find, particulary in the popular animated televisions series targeted at children-- the Egg twins (Eggbert and Leo) in Oswald; Timmy and Tommy Tibble in Arthur; Susan and Mary Test from Johnny Test-- just to name a few.
Now that we are raising identical twins of our own, I am more than annoyed. I am concerned for my youngest sons and the message that these portrayals relay to them. These shows treat identical twins as hillarious units, as misfits, as circus acts.
And as I look at our boys sitting there on the sofa-- one in shorts, the other in pants; one in a red shirt, the other in yellow; both with their heads cocked in precisely the same position with precisely the same expression on their handsome faces-- I can't help thinking that this is hard enough.
Already, their strikingly similar looks and mannerisms require that they announce their indivual identities daily, something other children never have to worry about. But now they have to fight Noggin too, and PBS and Disney and all the authors out there who use identical twins as devices.
The worst part?
(Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe they'll never put two and two together. They are smart boys, smart enough to avoid identifying with cartoon characters. Smart enough to differentiate fiction from reality even at three years old. Maybe, I've just had too long a day and this rant is just the result of stress.)
When the identical boys on Olivia performed their clownish act, Matthew and Jonathan laughed.

The time-out swap

2010-02-27T21:59:00.003-05:00

I used to be able to count on Matthew.
Or, at least, on his time-outs.
He'd begin testing me immediately after we dropped the older kids off at school. By the second trip to the time-out chair, I knew, without looking at the clock, that it was time to get lunch ready.
The third trip generally came just before we left to pick up the older kids from school, and fourth time-out was our call to dinner. Sometimes, there was a fifth time-out. That meant we were late getting them to bed.
But I couldn't count on Jonathan.
Just the mention of discipline made him quiver.
And whenever his brother was buckled in the time-out chair, he would cry and cry, demanding that I set him free.
I could honestly say that Matthew was our difficult twin.
Not anymore.
Just as they have done with so many other personality traits, Matthew and Jonathan have swapped. It's almost like they are toying with us. They push us and push us to label them and then, just when we're confident that we know these guys, that we know who they are and that we can openly say so, they pull a fast one.
One takes on the trait of the other.
But that doesn't mean they mimic each other.
Somehow, they still manage to do it in their own, individual ways.
Yes, Matthew's behavior has improved.
But he doesn't have the empathy that Jonathan had.
He couldn't care less whether his brother gets a time-out.
And I can't count on Jonathan like I could count on Matthew.
Jonathan's time-outs come in one endless stream all day long and they are proceeded by screeches of "I don't like," I don't," and "I will not" along with lots of hitting and pushing.
Matthew simply defied us, quietly and boldly.
I'm not thrilled with this phase, but I am thrilled to find even more evidence that identical genes do not mean that Matthew and Jonathan will respond to situations with identical emotions and attitudes.
Even in their rebellion, they are individuals.

The games they play

2010-02-13T10:17:00.002-05:00

The rice was cooking. The ground turkey was soaking up the taco spices. The black beans (protein for our vegetarian son) were in the microwave. Dinner was almost ready the other day when my domestic bliss was distributed by a frantic, high-pitched cry.
"Help! Help! Someone help me!"
I darted into the living room, afraid of the scene that might await me. What I found made my heart stop ... in a good way. Jonathan stood on the edge of the sofa in a crouch. Matthew stood below him with his arms outstretched.
"I will help you Jonny," Matthew said in a soft voice. "I will help you."
Jonathan leaped gently into his brother's arms and both boys crashed to the floor in a fit of giggles. Then Matthew climbed onto the sofa, stood in a crouch on the edge and yelled, "Help! Help!" while Jonathan reached out to him.
It was a game.
Just a game.
New, complicated, highly imaginative games are becoming an important part of Matthew's and Jonathan's twin life lately.
Among their favorites:
They serve each other pizza and salads.
They use a toy blood-pressure monitor as a racing flag and take turns running to an imaginary finish line.
They have rules about who can shout "bah" and when while they are watching DVDs.
Even more interesting is that they are in agreement.
Matthew and Jonathan do not argue about the rules. When one chastises the other for breaking a rule, the scolded twin complies. Neither tries to take control over the other. They don't question each other's judgment.
Oh, I'm sure their time will come.
They are only three, after all.
But I am living in the moment.
And right now, I am in awe of them.
I am loving it.

The birthday: trains, trains and more trains

2010-02-02T10:53:00.004-05:00

For their third birthday, we took Matthew and Jonathan to a place in West Chester, Ohio, called Entertrainment Junction. Entertrainment Junction has a large train display and a play area that features Thomas the Tank Engine and all of his buddies. It was the perfect celebration for a couple of train addicts.

Matthew driving the train

Jonathan waiting for Thomas, Annie and Clarabel to come 'round again.

Big brother Riley (9) and big sister Kiersten (8).

At home the next day wearing the birthday sunglasses. Cool dude Matthew is in green. Cool dude Jonathan is in red.

Today, they are three

2010-01-18T08:16:00.004-05:00

My first thought on the twins' second birthday was, "Thank God. They are halfway to four."
I make no apologies.
Those were tough days.
But today, they are three.
Today is different.
Today, I am excited.
These two little men can talk to me.
They can reason with me. They can argue with me. They can sympathize. They can empathize. They can stomp their feet. They can hold my hands. They can play hide-n-seek. They can dress themselves.
They can leap onto my lap and wrap their arms around my neck for no reason at all.
They can tell me stories.
Yes, it's still hard.
They still run away from me at times. They still open the fridge, strip off their clothes and sneak into my office to play on my computer. They jump off everything, throw their toys and dump their stuffed-animal basket.
They are demanding, stubborn and curious.
But, they bring their plates to the counter after dinner.
They hug and kiss each other when they apologize. They pretend to be their older brother and sister and they pretend to be each other. Their cars and trains go grocery shopping, to school and to Target.
The best part is that they do most of that in different ways.
Matthew is Matthew.
Jonathan is Jonathan.
They are inseparable, but separate.
I let them choose the flavor ice-cream they will have with their cakes today.
Matthew chose chocolate.
Jonathan chose vanilla.
Each will savor his own.
But each will try the other's.
Today, they are three.
And, this time around, I feel no urge to rush it.
I look forward to the journey that will take us to four.

That one

2010-01-08T09:46:00.004-05:00

The realization hit me just before Christmas.
It was early in the evening and all four kids were playing together. My daughter stopped to describe a funny incident involving one of her twin brothers. I asked her which one. She pointed to Matthew and said, "That one."
"Who?" I asked.
"That one," she said.
"No," I said. "Tell me his name."
She shrugged and said she didn't know.
Then I asked her older brother.
He didn't know either.
Neither was bothered.
Matthew and Jonathan were indistinguishable to even their own siblings.
How could we have missed that?
We missed it because we were too busy.
When all four children are together, the household is a chaotic mess. They twins like to get wild and the older kids like to get wild with them. It's all I can do to keep my sanity and to ensure that no one gets hurt.
Who has time for individuality and identities?
I didn't let it go that evening. I pressed my older children to figure out who was who and, in the end, they got it right. When we sat down to breakfast the next morning, we had a chat. Riley (9) and Kiersten (8) told me that they can figure out who is who if they really try, but that they usually didn't bother.
They didn't bother, they said, because I was always quick to identify their brothers for them.
We reached an agreement.
I explained why it was important that they know their brothers as individuals.
They agreed to try.
For a day or two, it was a game.
It quickly became a habit.
There are still times when they refer to the twins as "this one," or "that one," but most of the time it's "Matt," or "Jon."
And something beautiful has come of it.
Their strategy of play has changed.
Riley and Kiersten are learning that Matthew and Jonathan have different play styles and that simply getting wild isn't the only option. Riley and Jonathan have a cuddling game. Kiersten enjoys engaging Matthew in conversation.
The house is quieter (sometimes).
The kids are more content (sometimes).
I am much less stressed.

Happy New Year!

2010-01-01T12:31:00.003-05:00

Matthew and Jonathan did not tear open their siblings' gifts.
They did not throw food at the table during Christmas dinner.
They did not tear down the tree.
They did, however, argue intensly and often over the trains Santa brought them.
Who ever would have thought that Spencer would become a favorite?
Overall, the holidays were a success and we hope yours were too.
Happy New Year from the Foster family!

From left to right: Matthew, Kiersten (8), Jonathan and Riley (9)

Matthew is in the snowman sweater. Jonathan is wearing polar bears. The sweaters came from Grandma Foster. The hula hoops were a gift from their sister, Kiersten.

Jonathan is on the left. Daddy picked out the glow-in-the-dark train shirts.

Identical twins, identical gifts?

2009-12-15T19:53:00.004-05:00

I am a coward.
I know I should be buying Matthew and Jonathan each drastically different Christmas gifts to help them differentiate from each other, to see themselves as individuals.
But it's not going to happen.
Oh, they'll get a find a few things under the tree that are non-identical. I hit the jackpot with Thomas the Tank Engine characters on EBay and got a whole bunch cheap. So Matthew with get Emily, Dennis, and Bill and Ben. Jonathan will get Rosie, Toby, and Annie and Clarabel.
But they inherited a slew of engines from their older brother last year and they already have doubles of their favorite engines (Thomas, Gordon and Percy). So chances are good that they will simply add these new ones to the bin and happily share them.
Not so with the train T-shirts.
(Jonathan chased his brother all over the house yesterday trying to tear off his Power Rangers T-shirt, the only one we have.)
Or the doctor kits.
(One stethoscope? Are you kidding? Doctors don't have to share. Why should they?)
Or the Cars helmets.
(Different helmets could create a hazardous situation in this household.)
So they will each get a Mader car and a Thomas flashlight and a set of Take-Along tracks. They will both get Thomas place mats and a set of four little cars and the same goodies in their stockings.
They will get gifts to share from their siblings and gifts that are just slightly different from an aunt and uncle. We bought them puzzles that are the same size and same difficulty level with closely related themes.
But Matthew and Jonathan are two years old (almost three) and, at this point in their lives, their interests are just about the same. It is not simply because they are identical twins (though I believe that does have something to do with it).
It is because they are little and their experiences in life are slim. They love the things that most toddler/preschoolers love. They have always been attracted to similar colors and textures, and it's just not worth the battles right now.
It wasn't worth it with our older kids--who are 17 months apart--either.
Over the next year, Jonathan and Matthew will start to develop more as individuals. They will experience things differently more often. they will start to cultivate their own interests. We will help them do that by exposing them to as much as we can and encouraging them each to explore those concepts and activities that attract them most.
But right now, I just want them to be happy.
And, to be honest, I want to have a peaceful Christmas.
So, a coward I am.

Author/twin Abigail Pogrebin takes on our questions

2009-12-03T16:10:00.008-05:00

When I learned I was carrying twins, I was terrified that they would be identical.
They would have issues, I thought.
All kinds of issues.
And I would have no idea how to help them.
In fact, I would probably be the cause.
I would dress them wrong, call them by the wrong names, place them in the wrong classrooms, celebrate their birthdays wrong, name them wrong, talk to them wrong, listen to them wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.
Abigail Pogrebin must have been listening.
Her book, One and the Same: My Life as an Identical Twin and What I've Learned About Everyone's Struggle to Be Singular (Doubleday/$26.95), addresses every single one of my questions along with questions I never knew I had. I gain nothing by encouraging folks to read her book.
I don't know her.
I'm not getting paid.
But I have to say that this book is absolutely essential for anyone who has anything to do with identical twins: parents, teachers, siblings, friends, psychologists, doctors, grandparents, cousins.

Everyone.

It has already affected the way I parent Matthew and Jonathan, and my husband plans to read it next.
In a previous post, I invited readers to ask questions of Abigail. Some folks responded in the comments section, The shyer parents asked questions via email. I paraphrased some of the more commonly asked questions so Abigail could address all the aspects.
Here are her answers:

Q: Is it annoying to have similar names or names that start with the same letter?

Abigail: I do think that the “gimmick” of twins—which includes naming them alike or dressing them alike—doesn’t ultimately pay off at all for the twins themselves at the end of the day. I realize that it seems harmless and fun to put twins in matching outfits or give them convenient or cute names when they’re young, but ultimately those things are more for the parents than for the twins, and the hurdle of individuality is hard enough without the gimmicks.

Q: How can I help my son bond with the twins? I don't want him thinking they are more special than him.

Abigail: As much as possible, it would be great to do an outing or activity with one twin and your son, so that he has memories with each of them separately. I wish my parents had done something regularly with me and my brother because we’d have some rituals or experiences that were ours alone. I am close to my brother, but I know we’d be closer if we’d spent some time just the two of us. I hope you’ll read my interview with my brother in my book because he paints a very honest picture about what it’s like to be the third wheel.

Q: Is it better to keep the twins together and treat them as a unit when they are young or to start introducing individual identities early?

Abigail: The sooner you start introducing individuality, the better. That doesn’t mean you have to over-worry about separating the twins, but definitely separate time should be part of the routine as early as possible. I think perhaps the most crucial chapter in my book is the one on separation – called “Making the Break” – and it really covers how twins ultimately have to let go to solidify a separate self.

Q: What we can do as parents to try to insure that both twins get enough attention from us or from any other adult for that matter?

Abigail: Just spend separate time with each on a regular basis. It doesn’t have to be a lot of time– a short excursion with one twin will make a huge difference. But it should be a regular part of life that each twin is with his or her parents solo. Be warned: the twins themselves may resist being apart. But they will benefit in the end by having separate memories with you.

Q: How can I help raise my boys to be close but also have room to be close with others?

Abigail: Usually twins have an instinctive closeness that you don’t have to foster consciously because it’s powerful already. I think the bigger hurdle is encouraging their other friendships. My research taught me that twins can be unused to developing outside bonds because they’re wholly satisfied by their twin relationship. So, as much as possible, encourage separate play dates and social experiences. I know sometimes practically that’s a challenge, but it’s worth the effort. They don’t need to have all the same friends all the time.

Q: Does it matter whether they do all the same sports and are in the same class at school?

Abigail: I have a whole chapter on competition called “You Deplete Me,” and I think you’ll find some fascinating stories and research that will address exactly your question. I would say that it it’s possible to nudge your twins to different positions or strengths within the same sport – such as playing different positions in baseball or swimming different strokes on the swim team-- that would be preferable. When twins do the exact same sport in the exact same position, it invites direct comparisons which are difficult to manage. I think being in the same classroom is fine when they’re really young, but they should definitely be separated by fifth grade. Having one’s own teachers, friends, experiences, projects is crucial and direct comparisons are inevitable in the same classroom.

Q: Is it okay to dress identical twins alike? Are they bothered by it?

Abigail: I have never understood the dressing-alike thing, except because it might be practically easier for parents to buy two of one outfit. It’s not inherently fun for the twins – it’s just a bit of a performance; identical twins already attract plenty of attention, which at times can be fun and gratifying, but can also get tiresome if the attention is mostly about your sameness and not about who you really are. I hope you’ll read my interview with my identical twin, Robin, in my book, because she is remarkably honest about how the “gimmick” of doubleness ultimately felt stifling.

Q: How much do I push them to do "their own thing" separate from their twin? Some amount of discomfort regards to new situations is healthy and normal, and I want them to have that experience the same way non-twins do.

Abigail: I think you’re absolutely right: some degree of discomfort is healthy in the long run. In my chapter called, “Identicals: A Love Story,”I talk about how twins can get very comfortable with having a constant partner, back-up, playmate – to the point where it handicaps them for friendship and independence later. I want to affirm how wonderful it is to have that built-in best friend. But it’s important to develop the muscles of handling the unfamiliar, trying new things, being in new situations, connecting with new people – by yourself.

Q: Should they share a birthday cake and/or the song, or should we sing to each separately and give each a separate cake?

Abigail: I never had my own birthday cake or song and I wouldn’t say it scarred me for life, but I do think it was a missed opportunity to shore up a sense for me and for Robin of being separate people, entitled to our own celebratory moment.

Rules of engagement

2009-11-17T11:00:00.004-05:00

I've never seen Jonathan quite so stunned.
We were at my daughter's tumbling class Monday evening and the twins were playing with a few other toddlers and preschoolers in the observation area. Jonathan wanted a train that the other boy was playing with.
So he did what he always does.
He made an offering.
And the boy declined again and again and again.
Jonathan didn't know what else to do.
So he just sat there.
He sat there and he stared.
Eventually, he found his toy school bus and rejoined Matthew, racing the buses up and down the floor.
You see, Jonathan and Matthew have an understanding. If Jonathan wants Matthew's toy, he keeps offering Matthew something else until Matthew trades. Matthew negotiates in the same way with his twin.
It's quite diplomatic ... most of the time.
But this boy wasn't buying it.
He had the favored train and he wasn't about to let go.
This twinese thing isn't just about language.
As Jonathan and Matthew grow older, they are developing their own ways of accommodating and playing with each other.
They understand each other's intentions with simple nods and gestures.
They play games with each other's plates at the dinner table and only they know the rules.
They make faces at each other and start laughing, clearly referring back to some event or memory that they share.
With one word, one twin engages the other in a preconceived game.
I watch them and I envy them.
I can't imagine what it must be like to know someone so well.
But, at the same time, I fear for them.
This bond, the bond that makes them unique, will also hurt them sometimes.
At some point, they will have to learn the hard way how to let others in. They won't always be able to ignore the boy with the train and turn to their built-in playmate for social comfort. Sometimes, they will have to learn to pick up another toy and figure out how to play with him.
They will not always have each other and it's not healthy for them to know only each other deeply.
So, as they grow, we will have to guide them as best we can without compromising their bond. Their bond has allowed them to skip the stage of parallel play, where toddlers play near each other, observe each other in play, imitate each other and, in doing so, learn social codes of engagement that lead to friendship.
We will have to walk them through it.
Now, if only I knew the way.

This your chance: ask an identical twin

2009-10-29T14:25:00.008-04:00

I don't know what I'm doing.
And, with a few exceptions, neither do most parents of identical twins.
Most of us have never shared an egg, our DNA and a uterus with another human being.
We don't know how our babies feel about dressing alike, sharing bedrooms or sharing cakes on their first birthdays. We are forced to go with our guts, the advice of others and the few, unproven theories that some folks present as fact.
By the time our twins are old enough to express their preferences, it's too late.
The damage, if there is any, is done.
We've had to wing it.
Until now.
In her new book, One and the Same: My Life as an Identical Twin and What I've Learned About Everyone's Struggle to Be Singular, journalist Abigail Pogrebin makes an offering. She rips open her own relationship with her identical sister, Robin, and lays it out on these pages for anyone to exam.
To help us and to help her better understand their complex dynamics, Abigail interviews an endless stream of identical twins along with parents, spouses, friends and siblings of identical twins. She talks to psychologists, geneticists, obstetricians, fertility doctors, all of them.
She attends the largest twin gathering of them all: Twins Days in Twinsburg, Ohio.
I bought the book Wednesday and started it Thursday.
Today, I am already halfway through.
I can't put it down.
It's funny. It's honest. It's intriguing.
But here's the best part:
I chatted via email with Abigail, a former 60 Minutes producer and a married mother of two children, and she has agreed to answer our questions through this blog. So, for the next two weeks, I will collect questions in the comments section or, if you're too shy, you can email your questions to me at lori@loriduffyfoster.com.
I will then forward them to Abigail and post the answers soon after.
This is our chance.
Should we separate our twins in school, give them their own bedrooms, sing them separate birthday songs? Do they mind sharing first initials, being referred to as a unit, taking baths together as kids?
You won't find a better source than Abigail Pogrebin.
So ask away!

No more preschool. This is why ...

2009-10-27T09:30:00.005-04:00

I thought I was doing the best thing for all of us when I pulled the twins from the sitter's and sent them to a formal preschool two mornings a week.
They loved their sitter and she still took them one morning a week, but I needed more consistency and I felt they needed more social interaction.
Their sitter is a neighbor's nanny.
Whenever the neighbor's children were sick, she had to cancel. Whenever, she was sick, she had to cancel. Whenever our kids were sick, we had to cancel.
Then there were vacations to deal with: hers, ours and the parents of the other children.
I don't need a lot of time to focus on my writing, run some errands and get a little cleaning done. Nine hours a week is plenty right now, but I really need that nine hours. Even six will do. Heck, when I'm desperate, three is better than nothing.
At the preschool, they would stay home only when they were sick and they had seven other children in their class along with an assistant. The school promised help with potty training, drinking from cups and following directions.
It sounded great, it was highly recommended and the twins enjoyed the tour.
They were reluctant that first week, but by the second week, they were happy.
Sort of.
Compliant was more like it.
So I pushed that nagging feeling further back in my mind and labeled it "mommy guilt:" guilt over the fact that I had placed my twins in a formal school setting at only 2.5 years old, something I never would have considered with my older kids.
But an incident today finally opened my eyes.
Matthew had dropped his sippy cup in the parking lot. It slid under a car. He wasn't supposed to bring it into preschool anyway, but, like any toddler, he was devastated by the thought of leaving it there even for a few minutes.
While I tried to retrieve it, Jonathan ran into the parking lot.
Not good.
So I coaxed them inside with Matthew crying.
I explained the situation to the teacher and tried to tell Matthew I would get it and come right back to show him. He wasn't buying it. The tears flowed harder and that triggered a waterfall from Jonathan.
Ten minutes passed and the teacher did nothing to help me.
In the end, I had no choice, but to leave with the twins in tow. The teacher smiled and offered words of sympathy, but that was it.
As I buckled Matthew and Jonathan into their car seats with tears flowing down my own cheeks by now, something occurred to me. That teacher did not know these boys as Matthew and Jonathan.
She knew them as the Identical Twins.
Just last week, she told me that she couldn't see any differences between them. I took a few minutes to point out physical differences and then behavioral differences. She shrugged. She just didn't see it.
Now, I don't expect people to be able to apply the differences to the appropriate children, especially if they see them only in a classroom setting twice a week. But I would expect that after a month or so, this woman would at least see that there were differences.
She could have if she had tried.
But she didn't care to try.
So when I got home, I picked up the phone and I called their sitter.
I apologized for pulling them in the first place and begged her to take them more often.
"They slam the door in my face and say 'Bye, mom,' when I leave them with you," I said. "You don't need name tags and you never have. They adore you and I feel like you care for them," I told her.
She didn't even hesitate.
Matthew and Jonathan start their new schedule tomorrow.

In sickness or in health

2009-10-13T19:48:00.004-04:00

It was a terrified cry.

The same kind of cry that had pierced my dreams 26 hours earlier when Matthew vomited in bed while lying on his back. When I found him, it was obvious that Matthew had choked on his vomit and had coughed it out of his throat to get air.

So, despite the lack of sleep the night before, I flew out of bed and down the stairs.

What I saw made my heart melt.

Jonathan, who had bemoaned the temporary loss of his playmate all of the previous day, had crawled into Matthew's bed, snuggling up next to him and scaring him out of a deep sleep. I resettled them both and they quickly fell back asleep.

Some identical twins insist that they can feel each other's pain.

I met a man once whose identical brother lives in Cleveland, about five hours from his home in Cincinnati. One day, the man said, when he was in his 50s, he complained to his wife that his arm had been aching all day.

He couldn't figure out what he had done to it.

Later that evening, his sister-in-law called. The man's twin had just emerged from surgery in a Cleveland hospital. He had broken his arm earlier that day, the same arm that had caused the Cincinnati twin so much pain.

Even if is true, even if Jonathan has been feeling Matthew's misery throughout this illness that has lasted 48 hours so far and kept him from venturing more than two feet from the recliner, Matthew and Jonathan are too young to fully understand its meaning.

Yet, the depth of their empathy leaves me in awe.

Several times today, Jonathan stopped his play and climbed into the recliner beside his brother, an act that is usually met with kicking hitting and screaming on the occupant's part. But today, Matthew didn't fight it and Jonathan didn't try to kick him out.

They sat together for long period of time and watching Max and Ruby, Diego and Little Bear.

Just a few minutes ago, Matthew started to vomit again. I grabbed the bucket and Jonathan grabbed the other side. We held it together while Matthew heaved and heaved until he had nothing left.

Then I cleaned Matthew up and sat him in the recliner once again.

And Jonathan climbed in beside him.

All three of these photos were taken today. Matthew is on the right.

The book store

2009-10-09T22:47:00.005-04:00

I have noticed that identical twins often have identical temperaments.
Or at least they are usuually pretty darned close.
And that can be a good thing.
Take my friend Misty who has identical triplets. I first met her about four years ago at the YMCA. Her girls were three years old. They lined up to go potty when asked and then they lined up to dress in their swim suits.
They walked, not ran, out the door and headed for the pool.
I have never seen those girls misbehave.
It's just not in their triplet nature.
Matthew and Jonathan are a whole different story.
They are highly active, highly curious and stubborn.
I have become so accustomed to planning outings in fence-in areas, running errands at night when my husband is home, and instinctively dreaming up new distractions before the current ones wear off, that I forget just how powerful this combined temperamental force is, and just how often I bow to it.
Until it hits me head-on.
Like yesterday.
Over the past few days, I have been trying to plan an afternoon play date with a mom of 3-year-old boy. My first suggestion was a fenced-in playground. I never considered anyplace else. The children's gym that I often rely on closes at 2 p.m.
Fortunately, the other mom liked the idea.
But then it rained.
I was baffled.
These guys refuse to ride in strollers or their wagon. When forced into either one, they take their anger out on each other, kicking and hitting like little mad men.
They will hold my hand for short durations, but when it's over, it's over. I've gotten very good at carrying them in a double football hold.
In frustration, I once resorted to those harnesses, the cute little puppy ones that look like backpacks. Matthew and Jonathan sat on the concrete as soon as they realized that their freedom was limited and refused to budge.
Anybody need a couple of barely used harnesses?
So, on rainy days in the late afternoon when we've already been to the YMCA and the children's gym is closed, we go nowhere. That's home time. Dangerous time. It's the kind of time when toy dolphins swim in toilet water, glass coffee tables become human launching pads and the entire main floor becomes a highly dangerous race track.
But I really wanted to meet up with this mom, a fellow writer, so I decided that for once, I would just have to be brave.
She had suggested Joseph-Beth Booksellers, a large book store about 25 minutes from home. She assured me that the bookstore had a separate children's area with a train table and a play kitchen, two of the twins' favorite things.
So we went.
And, to my amazement, we survived.
With their newness, the kitchen and the trains were the main attraction. By the time they'd lost interest, her son was ready to leave to. We walked out of Joseph-Beth holding hands, carrying the price of admission: two stuffed snakes.
It will be quite a while before we can return. After my new friend left, Jonathan found the door and tried to leave. Meanwhile, Matthew had gone back to the snakes and was pulling them off the display one by one.
They were getting to comfortable.
The newness had worn off.
Still, it was nice.
It was different.
It gave me hope.
Maybe someday I'll even be able to browse the books.

They sing!

2009-10-01T13:01:00.005-04:00

They sing!
Matthew and Jonathan sing!
And they sing everything: lullabies; theme songs, Twinkle, Twinkle; I've Been Working on the Railroad, The Wheels on the Bus.
They lie on their beds and sing to Laurie Berkner.
They dance in their room and sing with Laurie Berkner.
They twist and twirl and flap their hands, and sing with the Wiggles.
Their voices are beautiful.
Imperfect and beautiful.
They are confident.
They are proud.
They are having a blast.
This, despite the fact that I rarely expose them to raw music.
They get too much TV, too many DVDs.
I did the opposite with my older kids. I was strict with television and I kept the music playing--in the car, in the living room, in their bedrooms. We listened to Laurie Berkner, Raffie, World Playground.
I had more energy.
Yet my older children rarely belted out tunes at this age.
Now, my son sings only in bathrooms.
And my daughter thinks she's the next Hannah Montana.
But, when I pop in a CD for the twins, they are captivated.
Absolutely.
The best part? Matthew and Jonathan used to say, "No sing!" whenever I tried to sing them a lullaby. I can't really blame them. I have this problem with singing on key. But I craved that connection with them, that warm, sweet cuddle time.
That has changed.
A few months ago, Jonathan crawled into my arms and said, "Rock-a-bye?"
I held him and rocked and sang to him as tears welled in his eyes and trickled down his cheeks. A few days later, Matthew did the same. Now I sometimes rock and sing to both in the recliner or sneak them in another room one-by-one.
And each time, they cry.
Tears of relief, I think, or of release.
And while they let it all go, I take it all in.
All of their sweetness.

Beware the wail of the twin sirens

2009-09-22T09:05:00.009-04:00

It started as a whimper and it was irresistible.
I can't remember the date, but I do remember that a few weeks ago Jonathan held his arms up to me and whimpered ever so slightly. When I picked him up, he wrapped his toddler fingers around my neck and buried his head in my chest.
And I held him there for the longest time.
Enjoying his warmth.
Loving that he needed me.
But that whimper became a full-blown wail today.
And it's not so cute anymore.
Jonathan has become my clingy one. His once-adorable whimper now makes my blood pressure rise. His outstretched arms are dangerous: he grabs my legs and trips me; he grabs my arms and spills whatever I am carrying; he grabs my shirt and pulls me backwards, throwing me off balance.
Until today, Matthew has simply looked on.
He has patiently waited for something else to attract Jonathan's attention, knowing that I would give him his share of hugs and cuddles the second my arms were free.
Sure.
Every now and then, the two of them would start to battle over that space on my lap, but, in the end, Matthew would relent.
And he never whimpered.
Until today.
Today was third day of preschool.
The twins are attending two mornings a week.
They had a blast the first day. Jonathan cried a little when he realized I was leaving, but he couldn't resist the lure of the new toys, the new kids and the novelty of it all.
They were tired when I picked them up, but tired in a happy, worn-out kind of way. The second day was much the same.
But this morning, Jonathan began to whimper just outside the room.
And I could see Matthew perk up.
Matthew was about to go through the classroom doorway when he turned back to me, bright-eyed and determined. He stretched out his arms and began to whimper.
Jonathan was stunned for just a second, but then he whimpered louder.
And Matthew whimpered louder.
And Jonathan cried.
And Matthew cried.
And Jonathan began to wail.
I couldn't pick them both up while carrying backpacks, so I tried to lead them in by the hands. They threw themselves down on the floor and refused to budge. The teacher came out and grabbed one. The director grabbed the other.
I kissed them good-bye and lingered outside the door.
Finally, I asked a passing dad to peek in and give me a report.
Each boy was snuggled in a set of arms, he said. They seemed happy, but they were whimpering just a little.
"It was so cute," he said.
And, despite the stress of the morning--despite my throbbing veins, my aching head and my queasy stomach--I was suddenly overwhelmed with a new feeling. One I didn't like because it hurt too much.
I was jealous.
I was jealous of the teacher and the director who held Matthew and Jonathan in their arms, feeling those toddler fingers wrap around their necks and those heads buried in their chests.
Feeling their warmth.
Feeling loved.
Feeling needed.

My little guys

2009-09-10T20:44:00.003-04:00

Some new pictures just because it's been a while.

Above:

Jonathan loves to grab Matthew from behind and let Matthew "lead" him through the house.

Below:

Jonathan is in the green, Matthew is in the white and blue.

Seeing each other without seeing double

2009-08-31T09:38:00.004-04:00

Matthew and Jonathan have plenty of toys that are duplicates of each other.

They have two Thomas the Trains, two Percys, two Gordons, two Lightening McQueens, two school buses, two dump trucks, two ride-on inch worms, two of most any vehicle that they might fight over.

But their white cars are an exception.

Both are white, both are sports cars and they are about the same size, but the two cars are different models. Yet, it was these cars that Matthew pointed to the other day when looked up at me, his eyes bright, and said, "twins!"

Jonathan looked on with interest as Matthew repeated his revelation over and over again.

Then, less than half an hour later, Jonathan pulled out two Diego vehicles. One was a pick-up truck and one was a jeep-like vehicle, but both were yellow and both held figures of Diego and Baby Jaguar snuggled close to one another.

"Twins!" Jonathan said proudly.

Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Maybe at 2.5 years old, they don't know what the heck they are talking about.

Maybe I overreacted.

But it was one of those identical twins moments that hit me hard, right in the chest, right in the stomach, right in my heart. These two boys who look so much alike, who were born of the same egg and share the same DNA, did not relate their status to that of the replicated vehicles, differentiated only by wear and tear.

Instead, they chose vehicles that look similar at first glance, but that are, in reality, unique from each other.

Just like them.

A difference of weight

2009-08-17T13:29:00.003-04:00

For the first time ever, Matthew's and Jonathan's weights are significantly different.
I first noticed it two weeks ago when they were recovering from colds. Both boys had preferred milk to solids while they were sick, but Matthew tended more toward the liquid diet than Jonathan.
So when they stepped on the scale after a bath, I attributed the difference to their illnesses.
Matthew weighed in at 33.5 pounds.
Jonathan was 35 pounds.
But two weeks later, the difference remains.
Part of me wondered whether I was feeding one twin too much or another too little, but then a babysitter put things into perspective: Matthew is much hyper than Jonathan, she noted as she watched them play.
And she was right.
Very right.
Matthew is spontaneous.
Always.
He moves without thinking and he moves constantly.
He rarely stops to eat, though he can't resist a sippy cup full of milk, especially when he is offered his yellow bear and a corner of the sofa with it.
Jonathan, on the other hand, contemplates things more often. He watches his twin brother and he learns from his mistakes. Then he decides whether to act. He does not waste energy; He lets his brother waste it for him.
And, boy, does he ever love peanut butter and jelly.
So, it is possible that this illness was just the beginning. That Matthew will never make up that caloric difference because he can't be bothered: he is too busy. And that future illnesses will create even greater differences until the two boys are double-digit pounds apart.
But then you never know.
Identical twins like to keep parents on their toes.
In utero, Matthew staked out his place as first-born from the beginning (or rather, from the 20-week ultrasound when we first learned two little guys were hiding out in there). He was head-down right near the cervix when we first saw him and there he stayed.
He never gave Jonathan a chance.
Jonathan was all over the place, kicking my ribs, my bladder, my pelvis.
Even after his brother was born, he wouldn't stop moving long enough to come out. He yanked his second foot away every time the doctor tried to breech extract him and took off swimming. When he finally decided to join the world 20 minutes later, he took a spontaneous pike dive, engaging fully head and foot first, and had to be removed via emergency c-section.
The boys were seven ounces apart and Jonathan was the lightweight.
I'm learning that just when I think I understand Matthew and Jonathan, that I know who they are and why they behave like they do, they pull a switch on me.
So I'm not going to worry.
Instead, I'm going to sit back and enjoy the ride.

More than twins: friends

2009-08-02T15:38:00.005-04:00

One day several weeks ago, Jonathan took me by the hand and pulled.
"Come on, Mom," he said, leading me toward the room he shares with Matthew. "Come on. Play."
And I did.
This method of manipulation was new to Jonathan and he was thrilled that it had worked.
So, after that first incident, he started pulling me everywhere--to his room, to the basement, to the front door, to the refrigerator. His glee at his successes was irresistible, so I complied whenever possible.
Then, one day, I saw him reach for Matthew's hand.
"Come on, Matty. Jonny's bed. Play," he said.
Matthew appeared stunned for a moment and he would not take Jonathan's hand. But when his brother repeated his request, Matthew followed. Jonathan decided that was good enough. He dropped his hand to his side and simply led the way. They played for almost an hour, jumping on their beds and crashing back down in unison.
That was the day the dynamic began to change.
In the old days (like about two weeks ago), Matthew and Jonathan would go separate ways when freed from their stroller in large play areas. Jonathan, the social one, would seek out an occasional playmate. Matthew preferred to play on his own. Toward the end, when they both grew tired, they would come together and play.
That's how I knew it was almost time to go.
No more.
I first noticed it at the playground last week. After a few minutes of independence, Jonathan sought out Matthew. "Come on, Matty. Come slide," Jonathan said, starting out in the direction of his favorite slide.
Without hesitation, Matthew followed.
And for the rest of our time there, Jonathan led the way.
The same thing happened at the YMCA toddler pool yesterday.
"Come on, Matty. Jump in water."
"Come on Matty. Eat Goldfish (the crackers, not the real thing)."
"Come on. Matty. Swim."
And again at the Children's Museum today.
"Come on, Matty. Tunnel."
"Come on, Matty. Roll balls."
"Come on, Matty. Sand."
Where Jonathan went, Matthew followed and he followed willingly.
I'm sure the day will come (soon) when Matthew tires of being the follower and the two struggle over who gets to lead. But that's okay. The point--the thing that makes me so happy inside--is that Matthew and Jonathan find each other to be worthy playmates outside of the home when there are so many other kids to choose from.
They are become far more than brothers.
Like their older brother and sister who are often inseparable, they are becoming friends.

We're almost big boys now!

2009-07-23T21:24:00.003-04:00

Matthew introduces his bear to the potty.

Jonathan patiently waits his turn on the "big" potty.
(The little potties have lost their appeal.)

Below:
Relieving stress after a long day of potty training.
(Jonathan is on top.)

Sabrina died: a twin mom remembered

2009-07-21T10:42:00.005-04:00

I don't like sad news, but sometimes it serves as a necessary reminder.
This is sad news.
A fellow member of the Baby Center community died July 2.
Her name was Sabrina.
She was mom to 5-month-old identical twin boys and a son who is 5.
Sabrina died of an infection she contracted a month after the twins were born. The infection spread to her brain and caused a heart attack. Her husband, Andres, has launched a memorial blog where all who knew her can post remembrances for her children to read when they are older.
Sabrina lived in Argentina and most of the posts are in Spanish.
But many who plan to post will be writing in English.
When I first read her husband's announcement, I was having a particularly frustrating day.
Jonathan and Matthew were on a stripping streak. Every time I got them back into diapers and clothes, they'd announce that they wanted to use the potty and strip again.
Sometimes, they really did use the potty.
But most of the time, they just ran around naked.
They needed a nap, but getting them to sleep during the day in their big-boy beds was next to impossible. I felt like I was neglecting my older kids, who had spent most of the morning taking turns on their computer.
I was feeling sorry for myself because I never seem to have time to write or run.
Then I read about Sabrina.
And I was reminded.
It's cliche, I know.
But all I could think of then and all I can think of now is that life is good.
Life really is very, very good.

Potty training: where one goes, the other will follow

2009-07-17T09:43:00.005-04:00

Jonathan has always let Matthew take the lead in all things physical.
When Matthew was learning to crawl, Jonathan sat aloof, unmoving, in the center of the living room floor and watched. He watched for weeks as Matthew learned to fall from sitting position onto his belly, lift himself up onto his hands and knees, rock back and forth and then, finally, propel his body in different directions.
Two days later, Jonathan was at least as fast as his brother.
It was the same scenario for rolling over, sitting up and walking.
So I supposed I shouldn't be surprised that Jonathan shows no interest in potty training while Matthew is obsessed.
It started at the sitter's three days ago and Matthew's obsession has grown each day since.
This morning, he refused all potty seats and the toilet insert. Instead, he propped himself up on the big toilet and, for almost two hours, he sat and peed and sat and peed, watching Once Upon a Potty over and over.
He missed a few times and he didn't quite get there for number 2 (though he knew it was coming and he tried), but he had three or four successes (He drinks a lot.). Meanwhile, his brother sat on the sofa, aloof and unmoving, drinking milk.
For a moment, I thought Jonathan might join in. He stood up, pulled off his shorts and peeled off his diaper with an eager look on his face. I pointed him toward a potty seat and he moved forward, right past it to the Cars pull-up that lie on the floor next to it.
He handed me the pull-up and his shorts and said, "Cars? On?"
So I helped Jonathan into his pull-up, gave him more milk and turned back to Matthew, who was alternating toilet-flushing with toilet-sitting and hand-washing. Matthew was, once again, taking on the physical burden for his identical twin.
But he didn't seem to mind and, although Jonathan's eyes appeared glued to the little cartoon Joshua who was sitting on a little cartoon potty, I'm sure I saw his eyes shift to the bathroom every now and then.
So, for now, I'll focus on teaching Matthew.
And I'll let the brothers work out the rest.

Are they natural?

2009-07-11T20:42:00.005-04:00

I logged onto my favorite online forum for parents of twins the other day and I couldn't believe what I saw.
On the first page of recent posts, there were three new threads.
One was a lengthy thread of vents from women who were tired of being asking whether their twins were "natural." Another was a poll created by a fellow member asking others whether their twins were conceived naturally or through fertility treatments. The third asked the same question, but not in poll form.
I usually avoid those threads all together.
People have a million reasons for asking that question (They are undergoing fertility treatments, they are concerned about a family history of twins, they are struggling for something to say while their eyes are fixed on our adorable babies, they are just plain curious). But rarely is the reason malicious.
I'm not bothered.
So I don't bother with the threads.
But this situation piqued my interest.
I opened the two threads in which board members posed the question to each other. I expected rants. I expected anger. I expected virtual riots between those who spontaneously conceived and those who underwent fertility treatments.
There were none.
Those who conceived with the help of drugs or IVF told of their struggles, their tears, and their gratitude to have not just one baby, but two. Those who conceived spontaneously told of their shock, their family histories, their glee.
Not even the teeniest bit of irritability.
So I opened the vent thread.
Many of these same women, these women who so cordially and eagerly answered the same question for each other, expressed outrage that anyone--family, friends or strangers--would even dare ask.
All babies are "natural," they argued, even those conceived through fertility.
So, I wonder.
Why is it okay for strangers (because, really, no matter how long you've known someone through an online forum, that person is still a stranger) who might also happen to have twins (How do you even know that other person is who he or she claims to be?) to ask how our twins were conceived on an online forum, when the same question is concerned taboo, rude or unbelievably inconsiderate if asked in person?
My conclusion is that some women just love to get angry and they love to tell others how angry they got. They seek out confrontation where there is none and then they feed off of it for the rest of the day, sometimes the rest of the week.
And this might just be the way some twin moms deal with the stress.
It's a non-issue for these particular women in an online setting. They can answer honestly because they have no desire to destroy the relationship. They need the other moms on the forum. They have an investment in the online "friendships," where they can hide behind usernames, never revealing their real-life selves.
Beside, confrontation is more fun when it's face-to-face.
For the record, not all identicals are spontaneous (depending on our definition of spontaneous). Many sets of higher-order multiples include sets of identical twins. The identical twinning is an indirect result of the treatments (Treatment aid fertilization and implantation, and the eggs just happened to split), but still, chances are that those identical twins would not be here without the help of modern medicine.
So if you ask "the question" of a triplet mom or a quad dad or even parents of octuplets and you get a puzzled look in return, try to be understanding. It's a long story and perhaps they are just wondering whether they have the energy to answer.