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.