A Special Bond brings Double Trouble and Joy

"Are they twins?"

Double Trouble

"Are they identical?"                            

"Do they feel one another's pain?"

"Which one was born first?"

"Do they have a special bond?"

These are a handful of questions my husband and I answer when we are in public with our twins, Joshua and Michael.  While a stranger's confusion as to whether they are identical or fraternal, loses it's novelty, we understand people's fascination with twins, because we, ourselves, are enchanted with their unique relationship.
 

Yes, they share a special bond.  On the evening of the twin's birth, they were inconsolable.  When the brothers were finally placed together in one bassinet, their crying came to a halt.  A sudden calmness washed over their little bodies, and they slept.
  

As infants, our twins slept holding hands, in the same crib.  They nursed, bottle fed, gurgled and smiled their first smiles simultaneously.  Michael and Joshua fussed, caught their first colds, and cut their baby teeth together.

As much as I discouraged it, the boys took their first steps on the same day.  It was wise to pray that they would delay their walking skills.  Two fourteen month old boys, toddling around our home, created laughter and silly mishaps.  Yet, folly and danger lurked around the corner every moment they were awake.

One winter afternoon Joshua and Michael discovered a can of cocoa, left on our kitchen table bench.  Together, they climbed to their destination, and pried off the can's lid.  To the twins, the kitchen floor seemed inappropriate for cocoa dumping.  But, my cream colored living room carpet was a perfect choice for chocolate redecorating.

Being the vigilant mother who allowed them access to the cocoa in the first place, I vacuumed up the twin's mess immediately.  I did not put the vacuum away as quickly.  How fun the vacuum looked to my decorating team.  The cocoa, this time in the vacuum canister, was once again released back to it's carpet destination.

My husband always accepted my unorthodox potty training approach, with our children.  It is efficient, and he does not have to participate in the instruction.  For the duration of the training time, the children wear their birthday suits, which is great fun for them. Little ones are unable to wet their diapers, or training pants, if they aren't wearing them.  The potty then seems inviting.  

The week our twins became potty pros, two events occurred which bothered their dad more than a Minnesota Viking's loss.  The first evening, the twin's attire was entirely absent and they sat down for supper.  They were back at the dinner table fully clothed in diapers, training underwear, and sweatpants sooner than I could remind my husband about my failproof Naked Potty Training Approach.  Secondly, I left a gaping hole in my teaching methods, by neglecting  to provide my toilet etiquette speech: "The only thing you put in the potty is what comes out of you."  By the end of the week the twins had flushed three large legos, a Fisher Price puppy, and toy car down the toilet.  It took my husband longer to fix the broken toilet, than it took me to potty train his sons.

Last year, my husband and I made an exception to our home school protocol.  We sent Michael and Joshua to kindergarten at the neighborhood primary school.  I absorbed every word the "experts" wrote, regarding twins' social skills.  Sending the twins "to learn with their peers, and gain independence from one another" was my motive; and not entirely unsuccessful.  They made friends. More accurately, one friend.  And . . . they shared that friend.  Also, diligent about following the experts' advice, their young teacher seated Michael and Joshua at different group tables.  She reported, however, that the boys were like magnets, sitting next to one another at circle time, and playing together, on the playground. 

Today, Michael decided to play catch with our dog, Tilly.  I might have accepted a little rough housing in the family room, if the tossed item had it not been his little sister's doll.   For once, Joshua was not near the crime scene.  Without an accomplice, Michael sat alone for a time out and sorry prayer.  Not a minute ticked by, before Michael's twin came looking for him.  Joshua sat down next to Michael on the step.

"Joshie," I reminded him, "You aren't in trouble. Go play."

With the world's weight on his shoulders, and eyes brimming with tears, Joshua looked up at me and explained, "I bored.  I really, really bored.  I don't have anything to do until Michael gets outa' here."  

So, Joshua sat with Michael until they were released.

This deep bond, between two children, is a beautiful gift from God.  It is a bond so special that strangers notice, and ask us about it.  May God bless them with confidence to someday go out into His world independently and bravely.  When that time comes, may they always remember the adventures and joy they had getting there.