Identical voices?

Matthew and Jonathan have the same cry.
When I hear them call out over the monitor at night, I can never tell whether the same toddler has awakened twice or whether both woke up at different times. It drives me crazy, especially when they are sick.
So, before they started speaking, I often wondered whether they would have the same voice.
I finally have my answer.
They do.
But they don't.
If both boys say the same thing with the same inflection (and they often do), their voices are indistinguishable from one another. They also have a similar vocabulary and are at the same stage of speech development.
They string words together, but they do not form complete sentences.
What distinguishes them in speech is not their voices, but their personalities.
Matthew likes to yell.
Sometimes, he'll just stand there and holler, "Mom! Mom!" in a flat, loud, determined tone even though I'm right there. Then he'll grin. He just really loves to yell. It seems to makes him feel good, strong, in control.
If he wants to go into the basement playroom, he commands me: "Mom! Basement!"
Jonathan doesn't do that.
When I hear a question asked in soprano, that's when I know it's Jonathan speaking. He is inquisitive and his voice often climbs almost unbearably high when he struggles with that first syllable of a question.
When Jonathan wants to play in the basement, I hear a high-pitched squeak that grows louder, stronger and fuller as it finally escapes: "Basement?"
He doesn't command me; he makes an appeal to me.
Over time, I'm sure experience will change their approaches. They will learn, like we all do, how people react to their attempts to manipulate with intonation and inflection, and their voices will be like their cries.
They will be indistinguishable.
But that's okay.
That's okay because, by then, I won't need to hear different voices to know who is speaking. Jonathan and Matthew will have different interests, different concerns, different questions, different life experiences.
Their personalities will override their biological similarities.
They will sound different simply because they are different.

Language explosion

It started about two weeks ago with the light switches.
Jonathan suddenly discovered that lights can be turned on and off. He wanted me to flick the switch. I refused. Not until he said, "on."
His response was "Ah. Ah."
Good enough.
I flicked the switch to the dining room chandelier, not realizing that I was flicking a switch inside his head at the same time. Over the next few days, Jonathan was obsessed with light switches. He took great joy in saying, "Ah. Ah" and in seeing the result.
Soon Matthew joined in and every light in the house had to be on constantly, even during the brightest part of the day. Eventually, we pulled out a couple of stools, placed them under light switches and gave them the power to do it themselves.
With that urge satisfied, they began to testing me to see whether words could get them other things.
Matthew pointed to the box of Mini Nilla Wafers on the counter and said "cookie." After Jonathan got a time-out for standing on a chair to reach the apples, he stood below the basket, pointed and said, "ahhh-pp."
Both boys grinned widely when they realized that saying "no" was even more fun than simply shaking their heads. They run to the gate blocking the stairs to the second floor at least once a day and say "bath" with exciting clarity.
Just a month ago, we were talking to the pediatrician about speech therapy if the boys didn't start saying a few clear words soon. Now I have trouble reading books to them because they interrupt constantly, making animal sounds or pointing to objects and attempting to verbalize their names.
The best part?
I finally get to hear their voices.
Their real voices.
The voices of my identical twins boys.