Poor Us... Wait, What?

Pity. It happens.

But getting pitied because we are twins? That really sucks.

"Poor you, your family dressed you two alike. However did you live through it?" (Quite happily, thanks).

"You had to SHARE?! Oh, how horrible your childhood must have been." (Sharing is caring, folks, and it really wasn't bad).

"You have always been around each other? How do you manage it?" (Because we like each other).

Not everyone is like this, I want you to know. Yes, you may call me Captain Obvious. Lots and lots of people either a) think being a twin is cool or b) are ambivalent, like "Hey, you're people, I'm a person, it's all good, whatevs" type of ambivalent. Sometimes c) are mildly annoyed because telling us apart is hard or looking alike draws attention (which we don't look for BTW, except here on this little blog of course... alright, moving right along) or whatever.

BUT these statements have happened, or a statement with that general idea has happened. Mostly from kids or people our age, but we have had some random comments from adult strangers. (Heh. Adult. We're 20. When does one stop using "adult" as an adjective?)

It's like twins wear signs like

"OH HAI, we look alike and/or were born on the same day
so please tell us your opinion about how we should run our lives
(based on personal experience or not),
KTHXBAI."

To those people and such comments, we politely smile. And then post it on teh interwebs.

Cheers,
Alison

Personality

If personality was solely decided by star charts and astronomical charts, Baby A and I would be just alike.

Not. At. All.

Baby A likes to stay up late and go out and such. My idea of a good night involves into pajamas and then bed early. Maybe some TV, a movie, or a good book.

Baby A is bubbly. She bubbles like a shaken soda sometimes. I'm more reserved (says she, the one who started this little space to spill her thoughts out onto the information superhighway). I swear.

I'm a measure-twice-cut-once type of girl. It does make sense I'm a little more into crafting. Baby A doesn't always look before she leaps. Sometimes she gets a running start too. She's also the athletic one.

I'm portraying myself as the dour sister and Baby A as the merry sister. Of course, these are generalizations and not close to the whole picture.

I fully admit Baby A is the fun one*, and I love her so much.

Cheers,
Alison

*Did you read this?

Blonde

Baby A and I were blonde during childhood. Blonde. Not towheaded, but... blonde. (I called it "more yellow than white" to my hairstylist. She thinks me and my inexperience in the ways of the world of hair are amusing.)

And then we got older and it changed to "dirty blonde." And it kinda got to a point where, really, it was brown. Particularly in winter when sun+chlorine don't work their magic.

Long story short, Baby A decides, after talking about it off and on for years, that she's going to go blonder. The decision fell to me: to dye or not to dye?

"Wait," you may be thinking. "Baby A is the fun one*, so why didn't she just jump right on that foil bandwagon and ride off into the golden sunset?" Our mother was sooooo anti-dye for the longest time. Then time went on and Mom succumbed to highlights. The decision to put "those chemicals" in her hair was probably less difficult than knowing she no longer had room to talk. Heh.

I did decide to get highlights. Not because I was so concerned that wemustlookexactlyalike but because if you can't do something fun and crazy with your hair during college, really, when can you? I just called partial highlights "fun and crazy." You have my permission to laugh. Like I said, my stylist does.

And, no, our hair color is not the same anymore. Baby A ended up blonder with more color overall. And that's A-OK with us.

Cheers,
Alison

*True story. I'll tell it some time.

One Car Twinkieship

That's right, we have one car. We share one car.

Our life is a two person carpool.

This is better for the environment, of course. We consolidate errands and accompany each other on them. We work at the same place, both during the school year and now, during summer, at a day camp. So that's not a concern.

Dad asked the other day, "So when will you two need another car?"

Now, we work, live, and go to school together. But soon, like two or three years soon, that could change.

When will we need another car?

Cheers,
Alison

Which One AM I?

"Which one are you?" he asked.

He has asked this at least three times since our single file line started walking. I have ignored each question, hoping someone around him would help him out.

This camper has been with us all summer. Baby A and I have explained the differences over and over and over again, since we get new campers often.

He has asked this approximately 300,000 times this summer.

I looked at him over my shoulder.

"This morning, I said that only one of us is here today. I told you which one I am." Baby A had to help out the camp for younger kids. This morning, I introduced myself to the whole group since we had a new camper, and I explained where Baby A was. Also, two seconds ago, another camper got my attention by saying MY NAME.

"Ummm..."

I turned around. I looked at him, head tilted, and not in a Snow-White-I'm-listening-to-the-forest-inhabitants sort of way.

"Uhhh... Well, which one are you?"

"You should know by now."

And then I turned around and continued leading the line.

I said it nicely, so don't think I'm some sort of evil camp counselor who terrifies poor children for fun.

I think I've made it clear here and IRL that Baby A and I are pretty laid back about the whole identical twin confusion thing. It's OK to mix us up or forget, especially if we've just met. Our good friend and coworker calls us by the wrong name probably two or three times a week, more if she's tired. But she tries. Which is more than I can say for some people.

Baby A is pretty noticeably blonder than me now. I have half rim glasses, hers are wire with full rims. I'm taller. My backpack is black, hers is green. She wears slip on Vans, I wear shoelace-less sneakers. And there are differences in our faces, bodies, selves.

And let me say this: yes, some people have a much harder time than most telling us apart. We get that. That's OK. Screaming above everyone else's chatter when the question has already been answered for you at least twice that day is not. Luckily for me, that behavior is usually confined to people under 10 years old.

Cheers,
Alison

Gred and Forge

I mean, Fred and George Weasley. The identical twins in the Harry Potter series, though I do hope those names were instantly recognizable to you. Troublemakers extraordinaire, and businessmen to boot. I do speak about fictional characters as if they were real, thankyouverymuch.

HP movie marathons on TV, Half Blood Prince out in theatres, and it just seems like Harry Potter is everywhere. Again. (Which is just the way I like it). And it came to my attention that *gasp* I had not yet brought Fred and George into my little space here.

I think there's plenty to say about the Weasley twins, but right now, I'll just leave you with some pictures. I am so, so glad that they found British identical twin boys to play George and Fred. Makeup and camera tricks can only do so much. Any one remember Double Teamed, the Disney channel movie about identical twin basketball players Heather and Heidi Burge?



Having a laugh at Hogwarts. From HP Lexicon.


Grown up and looking fine. Heh. From harrypotterupdate.multiply.com.

Cheers,
Alison

Are You?

It's no secret 'round these parts that I love and support Heather and Mike Spohr, parents of the Famous Madeline.

Now they've gone, with friends and family members, and started a non-profit to support NICU families during the difficult time of their child or children's stay.

This is the most amazing way to honor Maddie, who spent 68 days in the NICU. Madeline is still lighting up the world, thanks to Friends of Maddie.



Be a Friend of Maddie.

Love,
Alison