Together for preschool - yea!!!

A teacher from the preschool my daughter attended handed me a waiting-list form the other day. She'll take the boys when they are old enough, she said. Both of them.
I was and am ecstatic.
The preschool is run by the county, primarily for children with special needs. The teacher has only four slots for typical kids in her class: two for girls; two for boys. If she takes Matthew and Jonathan, they will fill all her typical-boy slots.
Predominant education practice dictates that she recommend separating the boys. Yet, she's happy to take them together. She believes me when I say that they will probably do better together and that they barely acknowledge each other when they play in large groups.
Her attitude is a relief.
And it gives me hope that as more studies are conducted on identical twins and separation, common sense and open minds will prevail. Several states have passed laws eliminating the mandatory separation policies of multiples in public schools, but the movement has a long ways to go.
For now, there is help for parents who are facing that battle or who want to get a jump start before their kids reach school-age. This Web site is run a woman who is determined to change the way school administrators and teachers think.
Check it out.

Fashion fights

The boys have started fighting.
Now, they've always squabbled a bit over toys and attention. But the all-out, screaming-crying-kicking-tantrum kind of stuff has only recently begun. And that kind of fighting they have reserved for clothes.
Yes, clothes.
Both Jonathan and Matthew seem to have an affection for yellow and/or orange shirts and they will do anything to get them. They will even try to pull them off each other, bowling each other over in the process.
I haven't read any studies on identical twins and clothing preferences.
I can only hope that this is just a phase or that, at least, they will someday prefer a color that is a bit less fluorescent. Like maybe blue or green.

Two ways to play

Again and again I have read that identical twins eventually become shaped by their environments--differently shaped by their indivual experiences and interactions. We have seen evidence of that in Matthew and Jonathan in the past few weeks.
Jonathan has always been a little more mellow than his brother, but his broken leg has emphasized that part of him. It is most obvious in the way he plays with the Little People's doll house,a toy they inheritted from their siblings.
In those first few days, when he had not yet learned to walk on the cast, Jonathan discovered new things about that house. He discovered that he could do more than just open it up, lay it on its back and attempt to sit inside it.
He began walking people through the door (cars too!), sitting people in chairs and laying them in the beds.
Meanwhile, his brother learned how to open all the drawers in the kitchen. Matthew also learned to slip his fingers through the cracks on locked cabinets and pull small things through. He learned to use stools, backpacks and diaper boxes to reach all kinds of things on countertops and dressers.
Then Jonathan became mobile on his cast, and even started to run. I thought Matthew would be distracted, his energy sources drained by brotherly wildness. Jonathan isn't all that fast, but he's pretty darned good. And he can jump and climb too.
But it wasn't enough.
Matthew still craves action.
He walks or runs aimlessly. He "fake" cries in hopes that I will pick him up and flip him upside down. He tumbles on top of Jonathan when Jonathan is sitting quietly, playing with a car, some blocks or a baby doll.
He goes nonstop.
Jonathan gets frustrated.
Jonathan enjoys the rough-housing, but he kind of likes playing quietly sometimes now.
He still has his moments--I just caught him trying to dump a loaf of bread onto the kitchen floor--but he has learned the value of imaginative play.
Matthew has taught him how to reach things he never thought possible (coffee cups set way back on counter tops are a favorite). Now we can only hope that Jonathan will teach Matthew a thing or two (and I'll be able to relax and drink that coffee!).

Ready to run

My 7-year-old daughter and I were at an outpatient clinic for Children's Hospital the other day when a man entered the room with his two-year-old son. My daughter undergoes therapy for sensory integration disorder. This little boy was having physical therapy in the other half of the room, which was divided by a curtain.
I watched as the boy fought with his therapist and his dad, both of whom insisted he walk. He didn't want to walk. He wanted to drag himself across the floor using his arms. The dad smiled at me and said, "He broke his leg. He got the cast off two weeks ago and he won't put any weight on it."
Thanks to his twin, Jonathan will probably never meet that therapist.
That little boy was an only child, according to the father. He didn't try to walk on his cast and his parents carried him everywhere. They didn't push him. Now they wish they had. The doctor told them that would have made all the difference.
We haven't pushed Jonathan.
We don't need to.
Moments ago, Jonathan ran across the living room in his hip-to-toe cast and leaped into his bean bag chair. He was imitating his twin brother, who was lying in his own chair, laughing and watching as Jonathan flew.
Earlier today, Jonathan climbed the steps to his Little Tykes slide and slid down on his belly face-first. Again, he was imitating his twin, who was imitating their 8-year-old brother. When Jonathan reached the bottom, he pulled himself up and did it again.
Jonathan walked the neighborhood for so long yesterday that he ripped right through my sock, the one I had pulled over his cast to protect his toes from the concrete. Fortunately, it was one of those socks that had lost its mate.
No. Jonathan will not need therapy.
My guess is that on Nov. 12, when that cast is sawed from his leg, Jonathan will step down from the table. Then he will walk right out the doors of Children's Hospital eagerly searching for his identical twin brother.

So what do we call them now?

Apparently those folks who insist that Matthew and Jonathan are not identical might just be right.
Maybe not now.
But they might be right someday.
Scientists have known for years that identical twins can differ in their expression of genes due to environmental influences, such as diet. But it was always assumed that the basic DNA--the genetic framework--was precisely the same.
A recent study of 19 sets of adult identical twins has throw them for a loop.
The study, conducted by geneticist Carl Bruder of the University of Alabama, found slight differences in DNA sequences in some sets. In one set of identicals in Bruder's study, a genetic variation indicated the risk of leukemia in one twin. That particular twin did, indeed, suffer from the disease.
You see, all of us are supposed to inherit a copy of each gene from each parent, but sometimes, something happens that causes us to have too many or too few. Scientists believe those variations might put us at risk for certain diseases such as AIDS, leukemia, autism or lupus. These differences are called copy number variations and they were just discovered a few years ago.
Previously, the assumption was that if any of these variations were found in one identical twin, they would be found in the other because the twins come from the same egg and share exactly the same DNA.
This study throws that theory out the window.
What remains a mystery, however, is whether these variations occur in utero or as we age. Bruder suspects they come with age. Regardless, his findings mean studies of identical twins could be valuable in figuring out which genes are linked with certain diseases.
But the study raises an even more pressing question: if identicals are not truly identical, what do we call them now? Almost identical? Mostly identical? Sort of identical? Same-egg children?
Will I someday have to admit that those annoying people who stop me in the mall for the sole purpose of informing me that my twins are not identical simply because one has less fat in his cheeks are right?
The implications are frightening.

No longer entirely identical

We can easily tell the boys apart now.

Jonathan and I spent two hours at Children's Hospital today. He broke his shin bone, a small fracture. The doctor said it is a common toddler injury. Orange seems to be his favorite color right now, so that's what he will wear for the next four weeks.

Matthew seems more affected by the cast than Jonathan. With no active playmate, his curiosity is in overdrive. Yesterday, he climbed on the dining room table, got stuck in a small space between the hutch and the wall and repeatedly tried to empty the silverware drawer.

He imitates his brother by crawling on the floor and dragging one foot along.

It's going to be a long four weeks.

Can you guess who this is?

Accidental separation

I've mentioned before that Matthew and Jonathan have rarely been apart. They've made separate trips to the grocery store a few times, but, with two older kids and a husband who works a lot, I just haven't had the time or the energy to intentionally separate them.
According to the experts out there, we are doing everything wrong.
So last night and this morning should have been emotionally traumatic for them. They should have cried for each other. They should have been looking around corners seeking each other out. They should been calling each other's names.
They didn't.
Last night, just before bed, Jonathan was walking through the living room when he somehow took an odd step and fell. He screamed and screamed and couldn't put weight on his left leg. So off we went to the ER while Matthew stayed behind with dad.
X-rays revealed no fracture, but the doctor suspects injury to the soft tissue. We left Matthew behind again today to pick up the X-rays and stop by the pediatrician's office for a quick check of the circulation in the splinted leg. Tomorrow, Jonathan and I will spend an estimated two hours in the orthopedic unit at Children's Hospital, a 30-minute drive away.
There have been no sad good-byes and no overzealous reunions between Matthew and Jonathan. Neither had any trouble getting to sleep on his own last night. Neither seems annoyed or upset to have the other back in his midst.
Aside from logistical challenges presented by the splint, Matthew and Jonathan have fallen right back into their usual relationship patterns without missing a beat. They seem confident in their relationship.
Confident and secure.
So much for the experts.