Baby A, one of our roommates, and I are looking to live together for the next school year. We need to find another roomie to share a room with our roommate, or we need to move to an apartment with a big master for Baby A and me and a smaller bedroom for our roomie. (We break rent down by square footage, and since Baby and I share, we can afford a bigger room than a singleton alone). Moving might be nice (walk-in closet, anyone?), but we love our apartment complex and our neighbors.
Said neighbors know an identical twin looking for a room to share! (Her twin goes to a different school). That's the hard part, getting people who want to share. Since she's shared her whole life (and it's cheaper, I presume), sharing is preferred! Obviously, Baby A and I are golden on the whole sharing thing, and our roomie shared a room with her older sister. We're all about sharing around here :].
Since we haven't met this girl yet and we haven't solidified our own plans yet, I am really not sure how this will all turn out. But, in any case, I was very excited to hear another example of the sharing skills of multiples. We all had at least one partner in the womb, right? It must have rubbed off on us. Now this part is more about twins who choose to live together/share a room when they don't have to. Some people assume multiples need lots of space after, *gasp* the horrors of having to share with the same people our entire lives. (Anyone hear of marriage? Anyone? Pretty much sounds like "you and me forever, deal with it." Welcome to twinhood). People tend to give us advice, or substitute the beginning of "assume" for the beginning of "advice," about how we need "spread our wings" or some other psychobabble they are totally unqualified to give. Some multiples do live apart and enjoy it. Some live apart not by choice. Others are sticking together until something changes. (Hi! That last one is us!) Most of the people who like to give us their opinion are singletons who have maybe seen a TV special on multiples. Or something. Next time we get psychobabbled, I am going to ask them if they are married, and then tell them sorry they have to share their life with someone too.
All parents get tons of unsolicited advice, and I am sure parents of multiples (or preemies, hi Heather!) get a bit more than usual. And it's the same for the kids too. I know that Baby A and I have had our fair share of people trying to tell us how to live our life. It's refreshing meeting (or hearing about, like at the snowboard shop the other day, identical males who share a room who are close to our age) about twins just like us. We are not freaks.
Cheers,
Alison
Monday, February 2, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
The Eternal Question, Or, Two Of Them Actually
When something bad happens to people, "Why me?" is a common thing to ask. When something good happens to people, "Why me?" is also asked. I am sure that there are very few people who can (truthfully) claim never to have asked themselves this question.
And so it is with Baby A and I. "Why us?" Why our zygote? Why are we lucky enough that our split was even and clean? Why? Parents of multiples ask similar questions, as Pam mentioned in a comment on my last post. One baby turned into three sweet boys. Oh, the chances!
We have jokingly said "We were too much person for one person!" But really, chance favored us, and we are not sure why.
Another eternal question: what happens after we die? Oh, don't worry, I won't wax philosophical on you here. Here I introduce to you the idea of an ibeji. The Yoruba in western Africa have the highest rate of dizygotic twinning in the world. Their word for "twin" is "ibeji."
The meaning of "ibeji" I want to talk about is the wooden statues they carve to house the souls of twins who have died. They are formally known as "ere ibeji," where "ere" means "sacred image," "ibi" means "born," and "eji" means "two."
The Yoruba believe that twins share a soul, and thus if one passes away in infancy, that part of the soul must remain on earth so the other twin can live. The statue houses that part of the soul. Even if both twins die, ere ibeji are made and kept. The statues are cared for as if they were living, and are kept in a special place in the family's home.
Interestingly enough, apparently twins are descended from the colobus monkey, whose flesh is forbidden to the Yoruba. During festivals where mothers dance with their ere ibeji, they sing songs honoring twins, many of which emphasize this connection. Sometimes, twins are even referred to as "children of the monkey." Our parents used to call us "monkeys" because we were climbers as toddlers (we climbed EVERYTHING). Coincidence? Maybe not.
Here's where I got all this information:
Yoruba Customs and Beliefs Pertaining to Twins
Wikipedia article: Yoruba People
Wikipedia article: Ibeji
Ere Ibejis: Yoruba Twin Figures from the Bryn Mawr College Collection
Cheers,
Alison
And so it is with Baby A and I. "Why us?" Why our zygote? Why are we lucky enough that our split was even and clean? Why? Parents of multiples ask similar questions, as Pam mentioned in a comment on my last post. One baby turned into three sweet boys. Oh, the chances!
We have jokingly said "We were too much person for one person!" But really, chance favored us, and we are not sure why.
Another eternal question: what happens after we die? Oh, don't worry, I won't wax philosophical on you here. Here I introduce to you the idea of an ibeji. The Yoruba in western Africa have the highest rate of dizygotic twinning in the world. Their word for "twin" is "ibeji."
The meaning of "ibeji" I want to talk about is the wooden statues they carve to house the souls of twins who have died. They are formally known as "ere ibeji," where "ere" means "sacred image," "ibi" means "born," and "eji" means "two."
The Yoruba believe that twins share a soul, and thus if one passes away in infancy, that part of the soul must remain on earth so the other twin can live. The statue houses that part of the soul. Even if both twins die, ere ibeji are made and kept. The statues are cared for as if they were living, and are kept in a special place in the family's home.
Interestingly enough, apparently twins are descended from the colobus monkey, whose flesh is forbidden to the Yoruba. During festivals where mothers dance with their ere ibeji, they sing songs honoring twins, many of which emphasize this connection. Sometimes, twins are even referred to as "children of the monkey." Our parents used to call us "monkeys" because we were climbers as toddlers (we climbed EVERYTHING). Coincidence? Maybe not.
Here's where I got all this information:
Yoruba Customs and Beliefs Pertaining to Twins
Wikipedia article: Yoruba People
Wikipedia article: Ibeji
Ere Ibejis: Yoruba Twin Figures from the Bryn Mawr College Collection
Cheers,
Alison
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Can't Take Us Anywhere
Not even home, apparently.
Baby A has had some fun (and spent some dough) outfitting us for the snow. It doesn't snow here, but we are within reasonable driving distance to the best snow in California (or so I hear). Anyway, as kids who grew up in SoCal and whose major snow events meant driving into the mountains to see a couple inches of snow, we never got into the whole snow clothes thing. But when there's feet and feet, and you want to actually do something in it, like hike or snowboard or just play, you NEED waterproof snow clothes.
So she cruised the online sales and found some great deals, to be delivered to our doorstep by Fed.ex.
The packages came yesterday, and we went to open the door together. (My sister bought me snow gloves and snow pants, what a good sister!) The nice delivery man did an extreme double take. He was very friendly, and he was very interested in us being twins. He thought it was great that we like each other enough to continue to live together.
When we shut the door, and Baby A started to open the packages, I realized that a conversation that usually occcurs when we are out and about just occured on our very own doorstep.
Seriously, I have a lot of stuff to put down in this blog, but it's midterms. Again. I know, it feels like I just started school again. It feels that way because it's true. But anyway, after this round of exams... Promise.
Cheers,
Alison
Baby A has had some fun (and spent some dough) outfitting us for the snow. It doesn't snow here, but we are within reasonable driving distance to the best snow in California (or so I hear). Anyway, as kids who grew up in SoCal and whose major snow events meant driving into the mountains to see a couple inches of snow, we never got into the whole snow clothes thing. But when there's feet and feet, and you want to actually do something in it, like hike or snowboard or just play, you NEED waterproof snow clothes.
So she cruised the online sales and found some great deals, to be delivered to our doorstep by Fed.ex.
The packages came yesterday, and we went to open the door together. (My sister bought me snow gloves and snow pants, what a good sister!) The nice delivery man did an extreme double take. He was very friendly, and he was very interested in us being twins. He thought it was great that we like each other enough to continue to live together.
When we shut the door, and Baby A started to open the packages, I realized that a conversation that usually occcurs when we are out and about just occured on our very own doorstep.
Seriously, I have a lot of stuff to put down in this blog, but it's midterms. Again. I know, it feels like I just started school again. It feels that way because it's true. But anyway, after this round of exams... Promise.
Cheers,
Alison
Monday, January 19, 2009
Living Together
Baby A and I have always shared a room. Always. We know that a lot of siblings share a room their whole lives until they leave home. There is probably a much lower incidence of siblings electing to live together after leaving home.
For us, it makes so much sense. I've touched on this before, but we share everything. Our clothing is truly shared clothing. We have one printer (why buy two?). We usually get along so that's not a problem. And living with your sister is a little more comfortable than living with a stranger when you move into the dorms.
Now that we are in an apartment, still sharing a room for the foreseeable future, I wonder what it will be that will split us up. Graduate school? Boyfriend? Job? We know that some time, relatively soon, one of us will be called to go elsewhere. We will miss each other when we live far away, and I honestly can't see permanently living far away from each other. Human brains are terrible at predicting what they haven't experienced, so right now it is inconceivable that we would ever live far away from each other on purpose. We're not like Tegan and Sara. But who knows? We may live on opposite coasts one day and be OK with that. (Baby A, don't shoot!)
On a completely different topic, I need to blog about some twin mythology. Because, dude. There's some crazy stuff out there.
Cheers,
Alison
For us, it makes so much sense. I've touched on this before, but we share everything. Our clothing is truly shared clothing. We have one printer (why buy two?). We usually get along so that's not a problem. And living with your sister is a little more comfortable than living with a stranger when you move into the dorms.
Now that we are in an apartment, still sharing a room for the foreseeable future, I wonder what it will be that will split us up. Graduate school? Boyfriend? Job? We know that some time, relatively soon, one of us will be called to go elsewhere. We will miss each other when we live far away, and I honestly can't see permanently living far away from each other. Human brains are terrible at predicting what they haven't experienced, so right now it is inconceivable that we would ever live far away from each other on purpose. We're not like Tegan and Sara. But who knows? We may live on opposite coasts one day and be OK with that. (Baby A, don't shoot!)
On a completely different topic, I need to blog about some twin mythology. Because, dude. There's some crazy stuff out there.
Cheers,
Alison
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Identical Quadruplets in Armadillos
What a title, right? I know, you are on the edge of your seat awaiting this fascinating subject. Not.
But this is actually very interesting. No, wait, I am serious! Don't leave yet. Hear me out.
The nine-banded armadillo (Dasypus novemcinctus) produces identical quadruplets as their standard litter, or whatever a group of baby armadillos is called. The fertilized egg (after hanging around for 14 weeks or something without implantation, which is strange in and of itself) divides into two, and each half divides into two more. Then normal development continues, and you get four little clones come spring. Awww. Sometimes, armadillos will have three or five pups but they are always identical.
It happens to be the state animal for Texas. Oh, and the only animal known to carry leprosy besides humans. Um, yeah. Texas' state animal clones its babies and carries leprosy. Just saying. I can't be too harsh on the little bone-plated mammals though, since they are really important for research on Mycobacterium leprae and Hansen's disease (leprosy's more official name).
Here is more than you ever wanted to know about armadillos from Texas Tech University. And in case you haven't had your fill of armadillo (bad joke, since people can and do eat armadillo), check out "fun facts" here and FAQs here.
Side note: I wonder if anyone has done nature/nurture research using baby armadillos from the same litter raised in different environments. Too bad I am not a biologist or biology major. I would have a research project all set there.
Cheers,
Alison
But this is actually very interesting. No, wait, I am serious! Don't leave yet. Hear me out.
The nine-banded armadillo (Dasypus novemcinctus) produces identical quadruplets as their standard litter, or whatever a group of baby armadillos is called. The fertilized egg (after hanging around for 14 weeks or something without implantation, which is strange in and of itself) divides into two, and each half divides into two more. Then normal development continues, and you get four little clones come spring. Awww. Sometimes, armadillos will have three or five pups but they are always identical.
It happens to be the state animal for Texas. Oh, and the only animal known to carry leprosy besides humans. Um, yeah. Texas' state animal clones its babies and carries leprosy. Just saying. I can't be too harsh on the little bone-plated mammals though, since they are really important for research on Mycobacterium leprae and Hansen's disease (leprosy's more official name).
Here is more than you ever wanted to know about armadillos from Texas Tech University. And in case you haven't had your fill of armadillo (bad joke, since people can and do eat armadillo), check out "fun facts" here and FAQs here.
Side note: I wonder if anyone has done nature/nurture research using baby armadillos from the same litter raised in different environments. Too bad I am not a biologist or biology major. I would have a research project all set there.
Cheers,
Alison
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Back To The Daily Grind
Baby A and I are back in school, which means we are also back at work.
We both love coffee. We come from a long line of coffee drinkers, and we occasionally even drink it black (which is a foreign concept to much of our generation). So we stop at Star*bucks on our way to work more often than not. Hey, it's right off the freeway right there. Them corporate gurus really know how to suck you in, right? They even put it a little more than halfway to work, so it's drinkable by the time we arrive. Thanks, guys! Side note: why would anyone ever order anything extra hot from St*arbucks? Anyone? I'm pretty sure "boiling freaking hot" is the default setting. But I digress.
So the cashier today did the whole double take thing, then "Are you twins?" We answered "Yes" at the same time. Not on purpose. She thought that was really cool. But then we ordered different drinks, tall brewed coffee for yours truly and a tall mocha for the twinkie. She seemed genuinely surprised we got different drinks. I gave her the brief run-down, "I don't like chocolate, she does." Of course, then I get the weird look, like the "Why the hell don't you like chocolate??" look.
Life is strange enough without being an identical twin who doesn't like chocolate while her sister does. Usually if the twin thing doesn't blow someone's mind, my anti-chocolate stance does the trick.
Cheers,
Alison
We both love coffee. We come from a long line of coffee drinkers, and we occasionally even drink it black (which is a foreign concept to much of our generation). So we stop at Star*bucks on our way to work more often than not. Hey, it's right off the freeway right there. Them corporate gurus really know how to suck you in, right? They even put it a little more than halfway to work, so it's drinkable by the time we arrive. Thanks, guys! Side note: why would anyone ever order anything extra hot from St*arbucks? Anyone? I'm pretty sure "boiling freaking hot" is the default setting. But I digress.
So the cashier today did the whole double take thing, then "Are you twins?" We answered "Yes" at the same time. Not on purpose. She thought that was really cool. But then we ordered different drinks, tall brewed coffee for yours truly and a tall mocha for the twinkie. She seemed genuinely surprised we got different drinks. I gave her the brief run-down, "I don't like chocolate, she does." Of course, then I get the weird look, like the "Why the hell don't you like chocolate??" look.
Life is strange enough without being an identical twin who doesn't like chocolate while her sister does. Usually if the twin thing doesn't blow someone's mind, my anti-chocolate stance does the trick.
Cheers,
Alison
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