Different

My newest nanny, Linea, gets major points for ingenuity. The other day, the girls were refusing to nap in their crib, so she played guitar for them until they passed out on the floor. I peeked in and wanted to take a photo, but I was too paranoid that they would smell my breath from across the room in their sleep and wake up yelling “UP!!!!!” like they are wont to do.

Up as in, pick me up. Now.

A while back I wrote a post about how up was Eliza’s first word. It was also Phoebe’s first word, it turned out. It’s still Phoebe’s only word, and she uses it sparingly. My husband and I like to joke that Phoebe doesn’t need to talk because she just acts cute and points to things and gets what she wants. We have a dark sense of humor that often touches on how one of our daughters is cuter than the other, when in fact, they look exactly alike, because they’re identical.

Guys, having identical twins is weird. Case in point: same first word. For the most part, they also like the same foods, have the same general temperaments, and usually poop at the same time. It’s like their DNA makes them poop. Weird, right?

People often ask me how they are different. Actually, they don’t ask; they generally make a statement like “I bet they are totally different” or “I bet you have no problem telling them apart.” Er. That’s so generous of you to think that about me. The truth is, I’m nearsighted, and if they are more than 5 feet away, and I haven’t memorized their outfits that day, I have no clue which one is which.

There are, of course, little things. Eliza has a hemangioma (a strawberry) on her lip, which supposedly will fade over time. Phoebe also has a hemangioma, but hers is on her neck and is hard to see. Eliza is a little more clingy with me; Phoebe slightly more outgoing. They are both extravagantly silly, but Phoebe is perhaps just a twitch more inclined to laugh maniacally over nothing for a very long time. Eliza has done most things first, from crawling to walking to talking. Depending on how you look at it, Phoebe is either slightly lazier or slightly more laidback.

I am obsessed with cultivating their individuality over time. I’m terrified they’ll end up lonely old spinsters, neighborhood novelties in some sad city like Milwaukee (I don’t think I know anyone from Milwaukee, but just in case, no offense)—always together, in matching cutesie outfits, virgins. I know it’s weird to think about my infant daughters’ future sex life, but you know what I mean, right?

However, it’s hard to cultivate individuality when, by the very nature of raising baby twins, they are pretty much always together, stuck to the same schedule, eating the same things, and getting two-at-a-time attention from Mom and Dad. As much as I can, I try to spend one-on-one time with them, but it’s pretty hard what with the working and whatnot.

Today, my colleague in twin-toddler-mom-freelance-writingness Mei Mei Fox just happened to post a link to a great New Yorker article about identical twins. Instead of asking ourselves why identical twins are the same, it poses the question Why are they different? After all, they have the same genes, and basically the same upbringing. Nature versus nurture is pretty irrelevant.

One of the things that I look forward to most in the world is getting to know my daughters and how they are different. According to epigenetics, they will be.