My daughter scares me

I have long perceived that my daughter, the likely introverted one, is more likely to have a crafty side than her brother. In many ways, I am frightened by this, because I recognize it from myself, and therefore I know what to expect. Well, I know to expect that I won't be able to expect what she's able to hide from JM and me.

Tonight, E conned me for the first time. Just before story-time, N banged his head against the arm of the sofa, and so we gave him a cold-compress (that's shaped like a little cartoon child). E had an absolute fit: she wanted the "boo-boo". She shrieked and cried and demanded a series of things from JM before finally settling into our usual position: N on my lap on the rocking chair, E on the ottoman, lying on my legs.

Midway into the stories, N realizes he no longer has the "boo-boo" and climbs out of the chair. I get frustrated and declare that it is time for bed, and pick up E with her assortment of stuffed toys and security blankets and put her in her crib, and N looks around for the "boo-boo". I get on my knees and look, behind the chair, in between the cushions, around everywhere. "I don't know where it is, N. Where did you drop it?"

I am frustrated, and then start to look in E's crib. She starts to protest, and I slide my hand under her body just as she starts crying "I wanna hold it... I wanna hold it." The "boo-boo" is underneath her.

The usually nice, tranquil end to the evening is shattered.

I fear what's to come.

No, Mine!

You'd think that in a year, the dynamic of sharing would change. Well, it has. They both now know that when you count to ten, it is the other one's turn. Except, the phrase "my turn!" is shouted excitedly without reliably being related to a full count of ten. In fact, N has learned from this to count as follows: "1, 2, 3, 9, 10, My Turn!"

The other night, I was struck. I heard the words, "No, mine" from their room. It was about 11pm, and I heard nothing before or after, so I concluded this: N was having a dream, perhaps a nightmare, in which E takes something away from him, and he shouted out his usual retort.

Oh, the inner life of a two year-old twin! To have the constant companionship of a sister, but also be constantly guarded to the notion that he might have to share. I mean, really, he gets no break from this. He can't just go play with any and every toy (or non-toy, as the case may be).

However, it is pure love when I see one of them voluntarily give over a toy/object in the ten-second-sharing ritual, or offering something to his sister/her brother that he/she thinks she/he might like. To see them learning to share by necessity is pretty satisfying.

Oh, gotta go! I'm hearing N cry out "my ____!"

Playtime

"Do they play together?"

That's a question we've been getting for seven or nine months now.

At first, the answer was clearly: "no". Then it was "sort of", and now, it is "yes, sometimes".

"No"
When N was crawling and E was not, the main interaction between the two of them was described in Sharing is Fun.

"Sort of"
Once they were both crawling, I started to notice that, with few exceptions, wherever in the house one of them was, the other was as well. If one of them was in our bedroom, pulling objects off of nightstands, the other was there too. If N was in their room, pulling books off the bookshelf, E would be there pawing at the books. I started to think of this is not-at-all coincidental. That said, it didn't look exactly like a game, or like they were necessarily interacting with each other in a playful way.

"Yes"
Within the past several months, they started to play clear games with each other. Sometimes, they follow each other around a piece of furniture, laughing the whole way. Other times, they play peek-a-boo with each other (sans the words). And after we've left them in their cribs for bedtime, several nights a week we'll here them "talking" to each other and laughing laughing laughing.

It's really beautiful.

Travel!

Ah, to travel. To experience relaxation in the warmth of a tropical sun. To sit:




thusly...

Notice something missing from that picture? Yes! No children!

We took a glorious four-night vacation to Mexico last week, and didn't take the kids. We pushed the limits of their grandparents' generosity and escaped by ourselves.

Not that we didn't imagine what it would have been like to have the kids along, but again, I feel like having more than one made it the hard part. A couple of factors:

• Sleep is vital: Our rituals to get the kids fed and to bed start each evening by 5:45pm, and it is nearly impossible to feed both us and them at such an early hour and then get them to bed before one or more of them overloads. In fact, we have yet to take our kids to dinner with us at a restaurant. However, with just one, we might be more willing to take some risks with sleep patterns, and more able to feed one child while eating dinner at a restaurant ourselves.
• Moving two kids around is work: Our main mode of transportation while we were in Mexico was walking, and the road between our hotel and town was rough and unpaved. I can't imagine our double stroller (which isn't one of those ultra-big-wheeled-sport-utility-jobbies) navigating that road even once. And having each of us constantly carrying a 24+ pound baby around, well, that's just not my idea of a vacation.

That said, we saw plenty of parents with kids, just not kids the age of our kids (pre-walking but post one year). We even saw parents with twins (aged just five months), but those twins barely even turned over, so they mostly lay them on a chaise lounge next to them and let them nap. So while we may return there with them, it won't be until they are older.

Sharing is fun! It just involves a lot of crying.

When N learned to crawl, he would often crawl over to his sister and take whatever she was holding out of her hands, probably because whatever object is moving is the most attractive. Sometimes, this would mean that his head was in her lap, N not having figured out that he was capable of a grab-n-go. Hence, N's head became the moving object, and E would grab fistfuls of N's hair. Let the screaming begin!

Now, E has learned how to take things back from N, something she does from time to time. N has yet to make this into an opportunity to learn about tug-o-war: he just cries in reaction.

Hence, learning to share.

Yesterday morning, E was holding a giant blueberry toy (about the size of a medium tomato). N took the blueberry, E took it back, and N started crying. JM saw this as an opportunity to teach sharing, which involves the parent shuttling the contested toy back and forth between the children, explaining what is happening, and counting out loud the time of the sharing interval. It sounds like this:

• (N is crying because E has taken the blueberry)
• "E, it is N's turn."
• (E immediately starts to cry as JM takes the blueberry and hands it to N).
• "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Now it is E's turn."
• (N immediately starts to cry as JM returns the blueberry to E. E continues to cry for a few seconds once regaining possession.)
• Repeat over an over again until B goes mad.

I don't imagine this is common for parents of two children of different ages. If that's the case, I would imagine that the older of the two children has learned a bit about sharing (perhaps a similar exercise), and can be verbally encouraged to share with the less comprehending younger sibling. Having two children who do not understand sharing seems a bit of a challenge.