Almost done

Halloween is almost upon us.  Time to get together the finish pieces of the boys' costume.

We liked having the wagon with us so much last year that we decided to refashion the Thomas the tank engine into a hot dog cart.

Because I'd been using the wagon as a garden cart, and it'd been left out in the backyard all summer, and was completely waterlogged (yea, we didn't make it with very good wood), we had to rebuild the bottom and sides.

Then we spray painted it a shiny metallic silver and resprayed the wheels and handles black.

Finally we painted the sides.  And what hot dog cart is complete without an umbrella?

We are finally all ready for Halloween.  And not a moment too soon, because tomorrow there is a Trick or Treating event in town along fraternity/sorority row that we plan on hitting up!  First time with all of the costumes together!  Can't wait to take some pictures.

Cut the mustard

As a reminder, my 4 year old twin sons wanted to be ketchup and mustard for Halloween this year.

Thing 1 is my mustard eater and Thing 2 can't get enough of his ketchup. So, in my mind that is how I would dress them. But over the past week and a half, they have each been telling me that they are dressing as the other condiment. I have no idea how this will shake out on Halloween night.

But for now, I finished the Ketchup costume last weekend.

And spent this morning finishing the Mustard costume.

I used the ketchup costume as a base for size and height. Then made the slightly more bell-bottomed shape and narrow squirter top. It fits Thing 1 great so far.

Then I hot glued the labels I'd already made, and I added his weight in ounces to the bottom. Then used yellow puffy paint to make lines on the squirter to look like ridges.

Finally, I had to bribe Thing 1 to try it on for me. But once he had it on, he really had some fun with it pretending to soak Superman with mustard.

Next step: the hotdog cart!

Halloween is coming!

Halloween is just 26 days away! Which, seems like a lot of time, but if you saw our family's calendar for this month, you'd understand why I already feel like I'm running behind making Thing 1 and Thing 2's Halloween costumes.

As I've discussed before, I come from the school of make-your-own-costumes. And as a mother of twins, I like to dress my boys in coordinating themes. So this year, we decided to do Ketchup and Mustard. Superman actually came up with the original idea, after seeing ketchup and mustard costumes at Menards. It seemed like a perfect fit for them because we are going through a phase right now where they want "sauce" on everything. And wouldn't you know it, Thing 1 only wants mustard. Lots and lots of mustard: on hotdogs, on french fries, on chicken nuggets, on Ritz crackers. You name it. Thing 2, the same thing except he wants ketchup on everything. I even saw him dipping his apples and grapes in ketchup. And he ate them!!

Of course my boys can't wear any regular old generic ketchup and mustard costume :), so I hit the internet and searched for inspiration.  Basically, I decided to model their costumes after the old fashioned Heinz ketchup bottle and French's mustard bottle.

Last night I measured the boys and then drafted a costume based on their proportions. Then, using felt, I designed the Heinz ketchup label. I used my spring loaded snippers to cut out the intricate letters out of adhesive backed black felt.  I started cutting out the red lettering too, but it came out too fat, so I settled on using red fabric paint instead.

I replaced the original "Est" date with 2007, since that is the year Thing 1 and Thing 2 were born.  And I changed the "Net Wt" to their weight in ounces.  For the label under the cap (not shown) I used 04 instead of 57, since the boys are 4 years old.

Now, I just need to figure out how I'm going to create the bottle itself. I can't decide if I should do all one piece with a face hole cut out or break it into two parts, with the neck as a hat.

Oh, and remember the Thomas the Tank engine we made from a wagon last year? We liked having the wagon so much for practical and logistical purposes that this year we are repurposing it as a hot dog stand.

Now if only we had a dog to stick in a hot dog costume.

Happy Birthday x2

Thing 1 and Thing 2's birthday...where do I start?  This birthday will definitely go down in infamy as the birthday that EVERYTHING WENT WRONG!

Fail #1 For weeks, the boys have been saying they wanted "guitar cake" (they had a guitar cake last year).  Thing 1 wanted a blue guitar cake and Thing 2 wanted a red guitar cake.  One week ago they sprung it on me that they wanted a train cake instead.  Hmm, so off to google images search for me.  I found a lot of inspiration and decided I could make a decent homemade train cake using bread pans and lots of colored icing.

It started out okay.  But as I was preparing to put the final touches on the train, I noticed that the train tracks I had drawn with marker on the cake board was bleeding.  UGH!  Hours of baking (all cakes and icing from scratch) and now the cakes might be ruined.  It was past midnight, and my choice was to start over or try and salvage the cake, hoping that the bleeding had only affected the cardboard, and not the cake itself.  I checked and the marker was "non-toxic", so I decided to try and salvage the cake.  Thing 1 and Thing 2 mostly just eat the icing off the top anyway, maybe other kids would do the same.

I re-located the cakes to another board, covered in foil, and finished piping it and covering it with candy cargo and oreo wheels.  It came out okay, not as cute as I'd imagined, but not bad.  But I was still worried that it would taste like magic marker, so to me, it was deemed ruined.

Yesterday we took it to school and had the boys' party.  Their classmates loved the cake.  And luckily, most only ate the candy and icing (good!).  But take it from me...do not use magic marker on your cake boards!!

Fail #2 The boys' birthday coincided with their last tee-ball game.  So I told the coach I would bring the snack for the game.  I made some super cute baseball cupcakes.  And unlike the train cake fiasco, these turned out exactly as I'd hoped.  The problem: it stormed last night and the fields were flooded.  So, their game was cancelled.  Am I bad, but I'm NOT making cupcakes again next week.  I'll go buy some popsicles instead!

Fail #3 We decided not to do a party this year.  I am not one of these parents that thinks my kids need a party every year.  We had a big one for their first birthday (actually, we had three!), but did a small family celebration for their second.  We planned a small one for their third birthday, but somehow it turned into a fairly big one because almost everyone we invited came, just one kid couldn't make it.

I honestly wasn't planning on doing any sort of party this year, but I felt bad that this was the first year the boys really got that it was their birthday, so we decided to do a "Birthday Playgroup."  Our plan was to invite their three best friends (two from school and one from church) to go bowling at the bowling alley right near our house.  About two weeks ago, I sent out a "Mark your calendar" email to the parents.  And then sent a FB message to the bowling alley asking if I needed to actually reserve a lane for only five kids.  No response.  About a week ago, I called them.  No answer.  Last night, I called maybe six times, each time letting the phone ring and ring and ring.  I even told Superman "maybe we should just go over there and make the reservation in person."  But in the end we decided that we highly doubted they'd be so crowded at opening on a Saturday that we couldn't just show up and snag a lane.  I was right.  And wrong.

We pulled into the parking lot at 12 pm sharp this afternoon.  There weren't a lot of cars, but no worry, the bowling alley opened at noon, so how many people would be there right at opening.  But it turns out, they weren't open at all.  In fact, they hadn't been open for more than a week.  UGH!?!?  At this point, all five boys were running around the parking lot, hugging and talking and laughing and excited to play.  Now we had to load them in the car and head over to the other bowling alley.

Fail #4  I was embarrassed for my lack of foresight, but everything was going to be fine because the other bowling alley wasn't a far drive.  And in about five minutes we were in their parking lot, which also seemed very empty.  A woman stuck her head out and let us know that they would be open at 2 pm, since their summer hours were different than their regular hours.  UGH!!!  Might want to change your website info people!!!

Man I was so embarrassed now.  I couldn't even think straight.  But with the help of the other parents, we decided to all head over to a nearby playground where we had an impromptu picnic pizza party (thanks to Little Ceasar's $5 hot and nows) while we passed the time waiting for bowling alley #2 to open.

Honestly, the kids had a blast running around chasing each other.  And they loved that they got to eat the cookies and candy in their treat bags while waiting for the pizza (because who doesn't love to eat dessert first?!).

2 o'clock came and we headed back to the bowling alley.  It was chaotic, but so much fun.  And I was really really glad that we only invited 3 kids though, because I don't know how we could have coped with more.  Teaching four 4 year olds and one 6 year old to take turns bowling was definitely a challenge. :)

Interestingly, while we were there Superman ran into a bunch of people who knew from his pre-married/kids life.  Among those, two birthday parties.  And guess what?  They had both had the same exact morning as us.  Well, not same exact.  Because their parties were a bit bigger than ours, and they had actually made reservations at the other bowling alley only to show up and find it closed.  So, I felt a little better knowing that even if I had made that reservation, the morning would still have been so disorganized. Turns out, the other bowling alley was closed down by the IRS.  I guess you can only go so long without paying your taxes...  And they had never notified any of the people with reservations of the closure.

After settling in to our game, the boys were all having a blast.  But then one by one they had to go home.  Bless their parents for letting them stay sooo long in the first place, after going from location to location.  We were so thankful they were so understanding and gladly waved goodbye and thanked them for coming.

The day did end on a perfect note, though.  Thing 1 and Thing 2, despite my best efforts, love McDonald's chicken nuggets.  So, we packed in the van, along with Grandma and Papaw Train and headed to Mickey D's and had a fast food feast with a side of indoor playground.  We came home, gave the boys a bath, and let them fall asleep in their train pajamas watching one of their new train DVDs.

In the end, the boys had a great birthday.  They didn't notice the train cake may or may not have tasted like magic marker.  They didn't notice that they missed their tee-ball game (because we spent that time skyping with my parents and opening their presents).  They didn't understand the bowling alley confusion fiasco; all they knew is that they got to play at the park and eat pizza and open presents and eat cupcakes and even ride in our van with two of their favorite buddies.  And of course, they loved their birthday dinner at McDonalds.  They even were able to get Papaw Train to buy them McCones before we left.

This is probably the first birthday they will remember (it's crazy to think they are going to be able to start remembering stuff that is happening long term now), but they will only remember the good stuff.  It's only us Type A hyper-organized mommies that will remember this as the birthday that taught her to always, always have a plan B! :)

Big boy beds

Thing 1 and Thing 2 have big boy beds!

Superman and I were pricing out bunk beds for the boys (the kind that you can start out as two twins and bunk later when they turn 6) and were definitely feeling the pinch on our wallets.  One set of wooden bunk beds, two mattresses, four sets of sheets, two pillows, two comforters...it was adding up all too quickly.

And then something amazing happened.  My aunt sent me an email asking if I had a need for two twin beds (they are in the process of converting their guest room to a king bed).  So, for the price of gas to drive to and fro Indianapolis (about 60 miles), we got two complete twin beds, with frames.  Score!

A lot of people are surprised to know that we are keeping the boys in the same room, and ask when we plan to give them their own room.  I have a few thoughts on that:

1. I plan on keeping them in the same room for as long as possible.  Puberty maybe?  I don't know.  It'll really depends on when they start bugging us for their own room.  But for now, I love hearing them chatter in their beds at night before they fall asleep.  I am not anxious to break that up.

2. Since when do kids HAVE to have their own rooms?  I know I sound like a bit of a hypocrite, seeing that the first time I shared a room I was a senior in college (at the sorority house), but I just don't think that having your own room is an inalienable right of childhood.  Especially two young children of the same sex.

The one problem...how do I stop the boys from jumping back and forth between their two new beds?

Kids say the darndest things

It's hard to believe that my 3 year old sons used to be considered delayed in their speech.  When they first entered pre-school last year, their teacher was concerned enough about it that she was recommending speech therapy.  We didn't put them in it, because we knew in our hearts they would catch up to their peers.  And we were right.

Sometimes as parents, you have to just follow your gut.  In our case, we knew that Thing 1 and Thing 2 were perfectly on par with the rest of their development (gross motor skill, cognitive, social, etc), so the speech thing was less troubling.  Plus, they were preemies, boys, first children, and twins, all four risk factors for delayed speech.  Add that to the fact they stayed at home with their dad for the first three years (no older kids around to model after) and we didn't let them watch tv for the first two years (kids really do learn a lot from Sesame Street) and we had two 3 year olds who were still speaking in two-word phrases and were barely understandable to anyone except for us.

But it's true what they say about watch what you wish for, because now they won't shut up.  Actually, that is just a phrase for effect.  They talk a lot, but I LOVE it!

Here are some awesome things they've said recently.

When I got home last night, I was telling Superman a story about Thing 1 and his friend from school.  He had declared his new little Korean classmate his best friend, which I, as a prior ESL teacher, loved.  (I'll tell this story in more detail later.)  The boys overheard Superman tell me that he hopes Thing 1 and Thing 2 are always one another's best friend.
Thing 1: No. J----- is my best friend.
Thing 2: Yeah.  B----- is my best friend.
Thing 1: Yeah, J---- is my best friend.  And B----- is your best friend.
Thing 2: Yeah, (Thing 1) is my brother.  B----- is my best friend, daddy!

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While I was making dinner, Thing 2 sat down at the table with a crayon and paper and seconds later said "(T) for (Thing 2)."  Sure enough, I walked over and there was a perfect (well, almost perfect) letter scrawled on the paper.  His first letter!  Without me prompting him!  Then he asked me to help him make the letters for the rest of his name.  Yes, my kid with the speech delay can spell his name already.

Thing 1, not wanting to be left out of the action when he heard mom cheering and encouraging, came running over and proceeded to draw, unassisted, the first letter of his name.  It was backward, but how adorable is that!?

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After my walk/jog last night, I picked the boys up at the driveway on their trikes and they did my walk the block cool down with me.  Thing 1 was trailing behind with Superman, but Thing 2 was right up with me the whole time.  We got to a T in the road, one way was up hill but back towards our house, the other way was down hill but away from our house.  Thing 2 said "Let's go that way" pointing down the hill (they like to ride fast down the hills).  And I said, "No, honey, we have to go this way, back towards our house for dinner."  And he said "No mom.  That way is too steep."

Seriously?  What 3 year old says "that way is too steep."

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My last story happened while I was in Madison.  Okay, another bad parent confession is that my kids know all of the words to the entire Bowling for Soup Hangover You Don't Deserve album.  Their hands down favorite song is 1985 (which they call Woo-hoo-hoo), however most recently they've discovered hidden track 18 (which they call Hello).  It's basically a reprise of another song, Ohio (Come Back to Texas), where the band members really drunkenly sing "(Insert decidedly Texas item) wants you back" over and over, laughing and burping a lot.  After Superman got them out of the car one afternoon, they kept singing the song long after the radio was turned off, and the were making up their own phrases.  "Thing 1 wants you back"  "Thing 2 wants you back"  "Kitty wants you back"  "Doggies wants you back" (even though we don't have a dog!).  Then, they told Superman that they wanted to call me and sing me the song.  They proceeded to sing me about 10 verses.  It was the sweetest thing!

I hate mornings

I hate mornings.  But not for the same reason most people probably hate mornings.

I've always considered myself a morning person.  I'm like my dad in that way.  And it turns out that Thing 1 and Thing 2 follow in our footsteps, because those little guys wake up in amazing moods 99% of the time.  Most mornings, they don't even wake up groggy.  They just seem to pop up excited and ready to play.

But that is the problem.  They want to play.  They are happy, sweet, and playful...  and mommy is all business, trying to get ready for work and school.

It breaks my heart, because mornings are the most one-on-two time I get with them.  Superman leaves for work at about 7:15, which means it's just me and my boys until it's time to take them to school.  I want to just lay in bed and cuddle with them while they tell me about their dreams (which they always seem so excited to tell you about), or get down on the ground and play trains, or play endless scenarios of "doggy", but I can't because I'm racing the clock.

Over and over again, my meanest mommy moments (which are also the most disappointed in myself parenting moments) always happen in the morning, while trying to get them ready for school.  At the time that my kids are perhaps at their sweetest and best, I turn into Momzilla.

They don't want to get dressed (because they want to stay in their pajamas and play) so I find myself physically restraining them to put their clothes on.  They want to play, but I get angry when I walk in the living room and find that they've pushed the coffee table over to the front closet and are standing on it to get their Candy Land game off of the top shelf, spilling dozens of other games in the process.  No matter how many times I promise myself I won't lose my tempter, I invariably end up yelling at some-Thing in the morning for something.  And I hate myself for it.

Some mornings I give in to the desire to just be mommy with them and enjoy their morning mood.  Like this morning.  I had just gotten out of the shower, when I heard Thing 2's soft whispering.  He was sitting in mommy and daddy's bed, next to Thing 1 (who was still sleeping) and saying "Time to get up brother."  Within minutes, both were giggling and laughing under my covers.  So, I abandoned the urge to use the time to blow dry my hair and put on my makeup, and I hopped in bed next to them.  We played tickle monster.  Thing 2 played puppy.  Thing 1 and I took turns giving puppy commands.  We gave lots of sweet kisses.  It was heaven.

But then at some point, I thought "Ugh, we are going to be so late."  So I got up and got back to getting ready.  The rest of the morning included a Thing 2 not wanting to get dressed fit.  A Thing 1 not wanting the breakfast Superman had set out for them.  And me walking into the coffee table incident described above after I finished blow drying my hair.

Our utopic morning in bed was long forgotten as my frustration and irritation grew.

I don't know what the solution is.  Some people say "wake them up earlier so you don't feel so rushed"  However... 1. when you wake them up, they wake up grumpy, 2. we'd have to put them to bed earlier, and I already feel like I barely get any time with them in the evening.

I need a different job.  I need to be a free-lance something or other, working from home.  Or a professor, where I could set my teaching time for afternoons.  Something where I didn't have to push my happy children out of bed and into the arms of others at 8:30 am every morning.

Sometimes I really miss Superman being a stay at home dad.  The boys could stay in their pajamas as long as they wanted!  Often, I'd come home for lunch and the three of them would still be in their pajamas with disheveled hair and in the happiest of moods.

Tornado Twins

pre·co·cious/priˈkōSHəs/Adjective

(of a child) Having developed certain abilities or proclivities at an earlier age than usual.

mis·chie·vous/ˈmisCHivəs/Adjective

(of a person, animal, or their behavior) Causing or showing a fondness for causing trouble in a playful way.

ram·bunc·tious/ramˈbəNGkSHəs/

Adjective

Exuberant; boisterous.

These are the words I most commonly use to describe my children.  Sure, they are sweet, smart, funny, kind, ___insert other random generic adjectives used to describe children here___, but these are the qualities that seem to be distinctly my boys.  They have moments of sweetness, but they are perpetually mischievous.  They are smart, but most typically it manifests in a precocious manner.

I sometimes have to laugh at suggestions other mothers give me.  "Oh, I took my 3 year old daughter to this pottery shop and she painted her own pottery.  She loved it.  You should take Thing1 and Thing2."  Uh?  Because I have nothing better to spend my money on than 20 lbs of broken ceramic?  Because I can tell you that my Tornado Twins will want to touch everything, climb on most things, and play with all of the above.  And maybe, just maybe, they'd sit long enough to scribble two lines of paint onto a statue of a train (because of course they'd want to paint a train).

Does it bother me that my children are so ill-mannered?  Yes and no.  Do I wish they wouldn't touch things they aren't supposed to touch?  And sometimes break those things.  Of course I do.  And I also wish I didn't have to be running around like a mother hen clucking "No.  Don't touch that.  Not for you."  And actually, I probably look more like a chicken running around with her head cut off squawking uncontrollably because I'm so terrified they are going to break something expensive or worse yet, sentimental.  I've been there before and it didn't turn out well.

But, I'm also proud that they are so active and curious.  I know other kids their age who are already couch potatoes: addicted to tv, to video games, to the computer.  I love that my boys would rather run around and play with actual toys.  Sure, they watch some tv, but they lose interest fast and run away to go play together.  And, c'mon, they are only three years old.  Do I really want to stifle natural curiosity by forcing them to adhere to behavior norms of adults?

Their teacher tells me all the time how advanced their sensory skills are.  That they are always the first at the table to try a new activity.  Whether it is playing in water, with play-dough, shaving cream, paint, mud...the boys love all mediums.  They aren't afraid to touch different textures or try new things.  They are adventurous.  I always take this as a compliment.  Why shouldn't I outside of the classroom?  Focus on these developmental milestones as indicators of cognitive acheivement, instead of focusing on whether or not someone is going to give me a dirty look.

A few years back, when a parent would say "oh my child is so rambunctious", I would say that I have a special place in my heart for those children.  They capture my heart more swiftly and well than the quiet ones.  And I meant it.

The problem is when that child is yours.  And you deal with them every day.  It's just so tiring.  And when you have two of these children, and they feed off one another's behavior.  It's downright exhausting.

This past Sunday, we were at our wit's end.  Both Superman and I could feel ourselves bubbling at the children's increasingly rambunctious behavior. So, we did something fairly unusual for us.  We split them up.  Sure, we'd done things with them separately before.  But usually it was because one had a doctor's appointment, was sick, or sleeping.  I don't think we'd ever before consciously said, "Look, I'll take this one, and you take that one."  But we did.  I got Thing2 dressed, loaded him in the car and took him grocery shopping and errand running with me.  Superman got Thing1 dressed and took him out to play in the snow.

And it was great!  Thing2 was such a good boy sitting in the cart, reading his train book, and talking to me about all of the groceries I was putting in the cart.  He got a free cookie, lots of samples, and even got to snack on some Pringles straight out of the can.  As we are checking out at the third store, he looks at me and says "Mom, I wanna go home now.  Go play with brother and Daddy."  And I gladly obliged.

When we got home, Superman reported that Thing1 too had had a great time.  He had helped shovel the driveway, and then was rewarded by being drug and flung around on the sled.  Without having to wait his turn.

It is amazing to me how calm, demure, and behaved the boys can be when they are by themselves.  When they don't have that other half fueling the flames of their curiosity and playfulness.  I still wouldn't trade my precocious, mischievous, rambunctious Tornado Twins for the world.  But, I think we will have to start making Singleton Outings a regular habit.

Please don't call them "the twins"

I love being a mom.  And I especially love being the mother of twins.  There is something so sweet and special about the bond my boys share, and have shared since they were womb mates kicking around in my tummy.

When my cousin's wife (who also had twins) found out our good news she told me "parents of twins are the rock stars of parents".  And she was right.  People are drawn to double strollers with two little pink-nosed bundles of joy.  I couldn't go anywhere without throngs of people who would ooh-and-ahh over how beautiful they were and how lucky I was.  I actually sometimes got embarrassed when I'd be out with a friend who also had a baby and strangers would seem to ignore their singleton to fawn over mine.  I would say it's because my boys are especially beautiful, but I know deep down it is because double the baby equals double the cuteness.  Period.

 It seemed that for the first year I had my sons the soundtrack of my life was on a track repeat of "I always wanted to have twins" and stories of "my cousin's sister's neighbor's ex-boyfriend's mother was a twin."  And other parents of twins alternating between "don't worry, I survived" and "it gets better, honey".

And don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining.  I actually liked the attention.  What mother isn't proud to show off her new baby(ies)?!  And believe you me, I played up the twins aspect by keeping them in coordinating outfits.  Even their bibs and blankets were coordinating with each other.  And yes, if one messed up his outfit, they both got changed!  (Even when it was just us at home.)

But as much as I worked to keep them in coordinating outfits, I steered clear of exactly matching.  You see, whether or not my sons are genetically identical (we'll discuss this in a later blog) they look almost exactly alike.  They have the same hair color, the same eye color, the same nose, the same mouth, and since they've been born they have never been more than a few ounces and a 1/4 inch different in size.  Sure, their father and I can tell them apart by their subtle differences (one's face is rounder while the other's is more oval...one has pointy eyebrows while the other's are more arched), but we are their parents.  We have been with them day and night since they were born.  We can tell their laughs apart.  Their voices.  The way they say our names.  We don't expect other people who have just met them, or only see them a few times a year, or even a few times a month, to be able to pick up on those slight differences.  So, since they were born, I have used a color coding system.  Thing1 is almost always dressed in blue and Thing2 is almost always dressed in red.  Which is handy because Thing1's name and blue both have four letters and Thing2's name and red both have three letters."  Of course, not every outfit can match up exactly to this pattern. Sometimes Thing1 ends up in green (almost blue) and Thing2 in orange (almost red).  Again I didn't do this so we could tell them apart, I did this so OTHER people could.  I wanted people to be able to call them by their name, without always having to ask me "which one do I have again?"  (Although, I will admit that three years later as I'm belatedly working on their scrapbooks, it comes in very handy for recognizing who is who in pictures, which is often harder to tell.)

So, you see, I really don't understand why after all of the trouble I go to to make sure the kids are dressed in code, some people don't even bother to try and tell them apart.  The worst was the woman who called them "the twin" and "the other twin".  I didn't say anything right away, but I did let her know later that that really bothered me.  See, I don't even refer to my sons as "the twins."  I will call them "the boys," "my sons," "my kids," but never "the twins" or "my twins".  I do occasionally say "I have twin boys" or "my three year old twin sons", but I try to always use "twin" as an adjective not a noun.

I can't even really clear explain why this bothers me so much.  I guess for me being a twin is a description of them (adjective), not a definition of who they are (noun).  Sure, they are the same age, look amazingly alike, and both love trains, but there are a lot of differences too.  Thing2 loves fruit.  Any fruit.  And will steal it off your plate if you aren't looking.  Thing1 loves carbs and junk food (pray he gets Daddy's metabolism!).  Thing2 is very independent and wants to do everything himself.  He'll play by himself and doesn't care who is playing with him.  Thing1 always wants help and is always trying to recruit someone to come play with him.  He loves to be cuddled and often asks for extra kisses at bedtime.  Thing2 is stingy with affection and rations how much you can kiss and hug him.  Just to name a few.

To me they aren't "my twins" they are two very different children.  Sure, like I said, I call them my boys, but so does any mom with multiple male children, regardless of age.  Or my kids, like moms who have multiple children of different ages and sexes.  But to call them "the twins" to me conjures up creepy images of pale faced dark haired girls in bobby socks willing you to "come play with me".  Or silly twins in movies who laugh alike, walk alike, and even times they talk alike, finishing each other's sentences and trying to switch places to fool their teachers.  I feel like that word "twin" carries so much connotative meaning that I don't want to pigeon hole my children with.

I should say that not all mothers of twin children agree with me.  I know plenty that they themselves call their children "my twins".  So, my suggestion is that you listen for what the mother says and follow her lead.  And if that isn't clear, I think it is always safe to call the children by their names.  I will never get upset with someone for calling them the wrong name.  To me, what is important is the effort.  How would you feel if I called your son or daughter "the baby" or "the kid" all of the time instead of learning their name?

In any case, they are finally at the age where they can correct you!  Which is really a good thing, because their other new thing to show individuality is their desire to pick out their own clothes.  Yesterday Thing2 picked out a blue Thomas the Tank Engine to wear to school, and Thing1 picked out a red shirt with James on it.  And wouldn't you know that I forgot to mention it to their teacher and she confessed to Superman at pick up that she spent the first part of the morning calling them by the wrong names!

My worry...how will I be able to tell them apart in pictures now!