Thanks for Asking!

One of the odd little things I've noticed about parents of twins is that they really don't like to hear people talk about their kids' similarities. If you tell parents of twins that their kids look alike or act alike, they'll never agree with you, and in some cases they get kinda offended. There've been a couple times where Kathy or I have made the social faux pas of asking a twin parent whether their twins were identical when they weren't, and lemme tell ya, they don't like it one bit. One time we met these parents whose kids, I swear, looked absolutely identical - like they put the one kid in a Xerox machine and made another kid. And so we asked them if their twins were identical, and they basically said that they didn't know and they didn't care, and then they totally lost interest in talking to us. It was as if we had asked if their twins had herpes or something.

Our daughters don't look the same at all, so the only people who ever ask us if they're identical are twentysomething-year-old guys who think that all babies look the same. I find that the most common question I get asked now is something along the lines of "So, do they have different personalities?"

Now, I don't find this question particularly offensive, but it is kind of a funny question. Does any parent out there think that all their kids have the same personalities? It would be like saying "my children are not unique or special in any way!" or "my children are little zombie-clones that react the same way in every situation!"

So, for the record, yes, they do have different personalities. Riley, who's the older sister by 24 minutes, does in fact act like the older sister - more reasonable and more independent - while Leah does in fact act like the younger sister - more emotional (in a good way and a bad way), more affectionate, and more scared of new things. In personality shorthand, basically Riley is more me, and Leah is more Kathy. And since I'm an older sibling and Kathy's a younger sibling, it all fits, nice and symmetrical-like.

It all makes me wonder about that whole debate about nature versus nurture. Do Kathy and I subconsciously treat Riley like an older sibling, thereby causing her to act like one? Or does her DNA just happen to include personality traits that are more "older sibling"-ish? Is the fact that I spend more time with Riley and Kathy spends more time with Leah causing Riley to come out more like me and Leah to come out more like Kathy? Or is it their inherent personality traits that attracts them more to a particular parent?

I don't really have any answers, but I find it fun to ask the questions. That's what our life has become - one big high-school-science-fair genetics project. Just without the poster board. Plus I didn't put much effort into my science fair projects.

Um, anyway...

Playing the Card

One of the hidden little perks of having twins is that, for a couple years at least, you have a handy, ready-made excuse that pretty much can cover every little mistake or oversight in your life. Forget a friend's birthday? Sorry - I've got twins! Front yard has been neglected for the past 18 months and looks like crap? Well, twins! Forget an important anniversary? (cough) (Kathy!) (cough) Er, well - y'know - twins!

Last week, Kathy and I walked all the way to our Music Together class before Kathy discovered that she was wearing two different shoes. And for the record, it wasn't two similar shoes, like two slightly-different-colored work shoes or something - it was one sneaker and one work shoe. I'm actually not quite sure how you could possibly leave the house without noticing that you were wearing one sneaker and one work shoe, but somehow Kathy managed to do it. Now, while in a normal person this would be the sign of oncoming dementia or supreme stupidity, fortunately for Kathy, people kinda expect these kind of things out of the mother of twin toddlers. Kathy didn't even have to say the excuse out loud -- you could just see it in people's faces as they looked at Kathy and her mismatched shoes. Oh. Must be the twins. Poor woman.

It's one heckuva trump card. Along with being an excellent excuse, the twins card can also be used to inspire other things, like sympathy or awe. Sympathy is particularly handy if you're at a hotel and trying to ask for a special favor. You'd be amazed at how much more motivated hotel front desk people to allow you to check in early when you're carrying two babies who are totally losing it. But the awe factor is the big perk, one that helps you feel like it's all worthwhile. It doesn't happen that often, but once in awhile, I'm with the girls at the playground by myself and they're in a good mood and being really easy and super-cute and basically charming the pants off all the moms at the playground. And I'm playing with them, and for a few moments, I'm making the whole parenting thing look really easy. And then one of the moms will say something to me like "I don't know how you do it with twins - I have trouble with just one!"

It's a nice moment, I gotta say. I'll usually just smile and say something like "Oh, it's really not that hard". Which is a lie, of course. It is that hard. In fact, in just a few minutes, the girls will be biting each other and/or slapping each other's face or something and I'll have to figure out how to simultaneously scold Leah for slapping and Riley for biting. But until that happens, I just preserve the awe as long as I can. It's one of the perks.

New York State of Mind

So, we're back from our little New York "vacation". People have been asking us "how was your vacation?" and it's hard to know how to answer. It certainly didn't feel much like vacation. It was pretty damn exhausting, actually. Every night when we finally put the girls to bed, Kathy and I would be drop-dead exhausted. The kind of exhausted where you can't talk and you just collapse on to the couch and stare blankly into space. Or stare at whatever movie was showing on the FX channel. I know it's a cliche for parents to say that they need a vacation to recover from vacation, but seriously, when we got back to San Francisco, Kathy and I needed, like, a sabbatical. Or at least a few stiff drinks.

As a couple days have now passed and we've gotten a little distance, we're starting to see that our trip wasn't all bad. It was actually a varied collection of highs and lows:

HIGH -- The Airport: Leah and Riley apparently love airports with intensity of a thousand suns. And it's not because they like watching planes taking off, or because they like metal detectors or luggage or crabby security people. For no apparent reason, these girls just like being in an airport. As we rolled our stroller into SFO, Leah and Riley were bouncing up and down in their stroller seats in eager anticipation, like they were on the beginning of a Disneyland ride or something. They would say "wheee!" or "yay!", not because we were pushing the stroller fast or anything, but just out of the pure joy of being in such a wondrous place as the San Francisco International Airport Jetblue Terminal. And then when we got to the gate, we took them out of the stroller, and, man, the fun really started. With their faces lit up with glee, Leah and Riley ran around the gate for a full half hour, yelling and giggling like schoolgirls, stopping occasionally to render a heartwarming smile at one or more of the strangers waiting to board. They basically charmed the pants off all the travelers on our flight, which was a good thing a few hours later, when our daughters started turning to the Dark Side. Which brings us to...

LOW -- The Airplane: So, I usually don't give advice in this blog, but in this case I have to make an exception. Kathy and I decided that it would be a good idea to save money and buy just two seats on our flights and just keep our daughters in our lap for the whole flight. To anyone out there considering doing this with your toddlers, I say, for the love of God, don't do it. Seriously, do not, under any circumstances, do it. I cannot emphasize this enough.

You don't realize how squirmy and uncooperative your children can be until you try to keep them on your lap for six hours. And then if you're lucky, your child finally falls asleep in your lap, and you think for a moment that everything's great, until you realize that - uh oh - your left arm's asleep. And - uh oh - your right leg and right butt-cheek are asleep. And somehow, remarkably, half of your crotch is asleep. And - uh oh - if you make any attempt to restore circulation to your dead limbs, you will wake up your daughter and the sleeping angel in you lap will turn back into squirmy serpent-beast.

Just don't do it. This concludes this public service announcement.

HIGH -- The Sidewalk: Boy, our girls sure did like the sidewalks of New York. They didn't particularly notice or care about the tall buildings or the taxis whizzing by or the millions of people walking around, but they sure did like the sidewalks. Not sure why the sidewalks of New York were so much more appealing the sidewalks of San Francisco, but really -- they liked walking on the sidewalk almost as much as walking in the airport. They would run down the block, squealing and giggling, then stop occasionally to touch a fire hydrant or standpipe or parking meter, gaze back at mommy or daddy with a look that said "ohmigod - this thing is SO cool", then take off again down the block toward the next hydrant/standpipe/meter. If it hadn't been raining so much while we were in New York, the girls would've been totally happy spending the whole vacation just walking around on the sidewalk.

LOW -- The Restaurants: Since this was New York, we ate out pretty much every meal, and the girls decided to rebel by seeing which one could create the biggest mess. Leah was usually the big winner, as she became obsessed with dunking things in water that shouldn't be dunked in water (e.g., pancakes, french fries, toast) and/or pouring water on things that shouldn't have water on them (e.g., menus, the floor, her high chair, daddy's pants). Whenever we tried to separate Leah from water, she responding by emitting this extremely high-pitched squeal that bored like a drill into the brains of all the surrounding restaurant patrons. Meaning that Leah and her water would swiftly be reunited.

Anyway, you get the picture -- it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. We really enjoyed seeing all our New York friends and showing off our charming but kinda gross daughters. But we would like to apologize profusely to the restaurant cleaning staffs and restaurant patrons in the diners of the Upper West Side. We are truly, truly sorry.

And now here's a nice little moment from Kathy's parents apartment in New York:


And an obligatory picture (thanks Patricia) of Leah and Riley walking the New York sidewalks in their puffy pink marshmallow jackets, with Leah apparently trying to hail a cab: