Labelling the Kids

Having twins in the house has made us rather label conscious.

First of all there is the label "twins." Don't really like it. But haven't figured out a way around it. They used to be "the babies," but that can only last so long. If we didn't have an older brother, they could be "the boys," but yeah....we got more than a couple of those. We've tried "the little ones" but that always irked me when my friend did that with HER four-year old twins. For crying out loud, they can only be "little" for so long.

My shrink - who also has twins - suggested calling them "Aidan and Matthew," but that's rather a mouthful on a chaotic weekday afternoon. I've generally got that "Ryan...Andrew...Aidan...Matthew....oh to hell with it, you know who you are".....thing going on.

Add to that the fact that I have always talked to the OTHER twin while I was physically comforting his brother. Since I can't be everything to everyone all at once, I tried to split myself in half by reassuring one with my arms and the other with my voice.

This has led to interesting results.

Imagine having your mother cradling you in her arms, all the while calling out reassurances to your brother.

"Mommy," Aidan has taken to complaining recently, "I am NOT Matthew. I am Aidan."

My goodness, is he expecting both my physical presence AND attention?!!

Well, I guess at least I'm lucky he knows which one he is. (Thank goodness for kindergarten!)

Aidan has retaliated though. He calls ME "Mommy Connor." Or, when he's really angry "Mommy Mommy Connor." Appears I spend a lot of time calling them by their full names.

The strange thing is that Mommy Connor doesn't really exist. I am officially still a Steinmann. Dr. Steinmann if the kids are going to get snooty about it. Damon's mother is remarried to a Crossen, and has been for over twenty-five years. And Damon's father's mother - the REAL Mommy Connor - died in childbirth over sixty years ago. I consider Aunt Linda, Damon's father's sister, and a Sanicola by marriage, as the matriarchal head of that whole clan.

Mommy Connor. It is so weird to be known - and loved - by a name that really isn't mine. It's as if the kids have taken me, erased my past, and invented a brand new person for their own private, little world. Which is part of what being a mother is all about.

Ah well. I take it all in stride. Yesterday Matthew was pretending to be his sister, Ryan, and refusing to answer by any other name. If that continues, things are going to get mighty confusing around here.

Although, come to think of it, at that point his NAME is going to be the least of our issues!