My twins are four. They know they are different people. They know it. Yet their lives revolve around this fierce competition, a strange competition, in which no one must win or lose, but all things must be equal at all times. At the same time.
I've just recently gotten them to start accepting different snacks if the want different things. Previously, the twin that wanted something, wanted the other twin to also have it, even if she didn't want it, and if that twin wasn't eating it, then never mind, they didn't want any snack at all.
Not having power over the brain and desires of the other twin eats at the girls day in and day out.
Related to this, one cannot have anything special that the other does not get exactly at that moment. I mean, they can, but they hate it, and it results in some very tactical movements on my part for days.
It's understandable in a way. I mean, they even share a birthday, the most special of days. This is a hard concept for them. But it must be taught. They must understand. It's not a slight to one when the other does or gets something good.
That's something even adults struggle with. When a friend meets with success, we cannot take it as a bad reflection on ourselves. Yet sometimes we do. Doubly so with twins who are only four years old.
Hah! I just told Dulce she was a good girl. Lilly immediately asked, "I'm not a good girl?"
Anyway, the preschool operates on a system of "special days." These are the days each student is responsible for snack and gets to do things like lead the line and sit in the center of the circle.
Every time our special days come (and they're one right after the other, thank goodness), it is mayhem here all week. The first twin constantly harping on how it is going to be her special day first, and the second twin pitching fits about it.
The entire time we prepare, I have to fend off tantrums and ultimatums, constantly explaining about turns and sharing. Constantly affirming that they are separate girls and deserve their own special day.
Yesterday, we made these:
Why, yes, they are chocolate covered pretzels made to look like pumpkins. Because I am a pinterest master. But that's beside the point.
During the craft, I had a glorious reprieve, in which Dulce finally let up and started having a good time. She accepted that she would go second. Or so she said.
I should have known she meant for that one second, and she'd go right back to complaining about it as soon as the craft was over.
I hope to report that as the year progresses, the girls get used to this. And not for their maturity and grace, but for my sanity.