T is for: Twin Talk

T is for: Twin Talk

Part I

Marriage & Divorce

        They called it twin talk or idioglossia, and it is the single most mysterious secret language known to mankind, not even Linguists understand.  It’s an underground party not any person may join; you must be borne of a multiple birth…ABSOLUTELY NO OUTSIDERS ALLOWED, period.  Trust me, even if you are a sibling or parent of the idioglossia world, you can say you’ve experienced it, but you’ll never ever be included in this exclusive secret society.  Beyond the stars and the moon, twins and multiples have an indefinite union that no man can fathom, no man might measure, no man may put asunder.  This idiosyncratic language goes beyond the bond of any wedding nuptial.

     Twin talk is more than a babble; it’s an unbreakable bond which unbelievably begins in the womb, because it arises the precise instant they are born and it never dies no matter the distance between them. Some don't talk to anyone but their twin for years.  Some carry on conversations with their twin in their sleep,

        My twins were separated for days in the hospital nursery.  They were restless beyond belief.  The first time they were comfortable with their surroundings was on the fourth day of their lives when they were reunited and placed next to one another.

 And then they were content.

        We discovered they were not relaxed their first evening at home.  They wouldn’t sleep unless they were side-by-side, face-to-face, and Evan was always on the left and Emma always on the right.  
       They started with their twin talk during the day, and it didn’t end there.  It lasted all night long, as they would converse in their sleep.  It was a never ending story: 

one would talk, the other would talk;

one would cry, the other would cry;

one would mess their diaper, the other would mess their diaper; 
one was hungry, the other was hungry.

As they grew, the diaper changing and feedings at night lessoned, but the chatting didn’t.  We endured mild conversations to escalated arguments.  Even when the children had their own wing (we’ll call it), Mummie & Daddy heard way on the other side of the house their slumber squabbles. 

Then one night, Evan, a decade-aged man, all of ten years old, declare so loudly and intently, it jolted their dad and me out of bed…

 “I’m divorcing you, Emma!   

You never shut up all day and all night!   

Talk, talk, talk! 

I can’t take it anymore!  

 I’m moving out!  

 I’m moving into Edie’s room!   

She’s always at Spencer’s anyway!”

So I said to their dad, “Be quiet. Come on. Follow me…”

Their dad and I literally snuck and crawled into a spot so we could get a better ear-shot of the situation.  And their dad whispered, “Should we get involved?”

And I said, “Heck, No.  This is their marriage.  It’s deeper than a husband-wife sort of thing. Even our marriage, or our parent's marriage/s can't even compare. They have to work it out for themselves!”   
The next morning, Emma was: 

in Edie’s room,

snuggled in her Johnny Depp blanket,

head nestled in her Johnny Depp pillow,

sleeping on the floor,

with Evan sound asleep atop in Edie’s bed,

and Emma,
 well, she was still babbling twin talk.
and Evan,
well, he awoke the next morning,
and sounded like my dad,
"Je-sus Chir-ist, Emma!"

Part II

The Van Incident

One day, Edie Marie and I learned what the wonder of idioglossia was really all about.  It was the beginning of winter, and the twins were two years old.  We were driving in our van.  Edie finally was able in age and weight to finally sit in the front seat, and thank God for that, because wait till you hear…  Evan & Emma were on a bench chair in the center of the vehicle.

When all of sudden, Emma started moaning and groaning in misery.  Edie and I seriously thought that the world was coming to an end and Emma was literally dying…

“O MY GOSH! 

I’m so sick!

O MY STOMACH!

O I need some Berners!

(i.e., Vernors Ginger Ale)

Now,

Mummie,

NOW!”

Evan was calmly and collectively looking out the window the whole time, quietly, and stated, “She really needs it.  Please stop for pop.”  And he proceeded to go back to his window.

We stopped and bought four Sprites.  We left the drive thru.  Turned out onto the mainstreet.  Edie passed each of them their drinks.  Emma said, “Thank you.”  And she started chugging it down the liquid like she was at an oasis longing for days for a water or sitting on a barstool chugging down a beer.  Edie and I looked at each other in amazement.  Evan took the pop, said nothing, a blank stare, and looked out the window.

Considering I used to babysit for five children, I thought I had seen it all, but no… this topped anything those kids ever put out.  Projectile vomiting occurred, worse than Linda Blair, it was something like I’ve never experienced before and I pray I’ll never again since: 

Evan

There’s no nicer way to put this but…

Began to Blow Chow

Backseat

Frontseat

Behind the Bench Chair

On the Driver of the Vehicle

On Edie in the Front Passenger Seat

On Himself

On His Perspective Twin

It was Dreadful

Meanwhile

That Emma Baby

Continued Sucking Down Her Sprite During this Scenario

And Suddenly

And as Calm as Day

And So a Matter of Fact

(Like Edie and I Should Understand?)

Emma declared,

“O MY! I feel better now, don’t you?”

        Edie and I looked at each other and in synchronicity said, “No way did this just happen here!”  We pulled over. And in spite of the sickness, the smell, the mess, we burst into hysterical laughter (seriously, these types of things do not happen to normal people), and we tended to the chaos that we were presented with.  Emma had a clean bill of health; Evan had a fever of 102^o.

Part III

Kindergarten Roundup

        YOU MUST SEPARATE TWINS WHEN THEY START SCHOOL.  And kindergarten came along and we started grade school.  After meetings with the principal and their new teacher, and school psychologists, I decided, and I alone, that they should stay in the same classroom.  Let me tell you one thing right now ─ when it comes to love, I’m a hopeless romantic; but when it comes to life, I’m a realist.  It was as simple as:  there were only two classes, count them…two.  I didn’t think that it took an idiot to figure out what would happen if I were to separate them:  one would be in the morning, one would be in the afternoon.  It’s such an easy easel, let’s paint the picture, but no one else looked at my masterpiece.

I would have to be running to the bus stop four times a day (did the principal realize this?  I say not‼!)…and what if we missed the bus, I’d be driving to school back-and-forth all friggin’ day long…and I wouldn’t be just dragging one child to school, I’d be dragging two.  And what if I volunteered?  Would it be alright to bring one’s little life partner to class, or should I hire a babysitter???  And babysitters never worked out.  One even asked me if they could bring a “helper” with them the next time they came over and pay that person, too.  (And I paid more per hour then than I make per hour now.  And that’s fifteen years plus later.)

        Well, your guess is as good as mine; what do you think I chose?  Yeppur, I put them both in the same class.  And the afternoon session at that.  
   But.... Look at what I had to deal with. 

 I let them be independent and dress themselves.  When I tell you I sent my children to school with clean clothes, full bellies, brushed teeth, and for the most part ─ on time ─ that’s what happened in my world. 

        The decision was made.  And Evan & Emma took the bus everyday.  Sarah, their bus driver was in the Israeli Army.  So, being the good Mummie like I was, I told the twins that they had better behave themselves, because she knew how to use an uzi.  

I wasn’t even sure if they knew what that meant.  But the two of them had earned an excellent reputation both on the bus and in the classroom. 

        Until…

        This One Dreaded Day,

When I got “the phone call from the teacher”.  In my 8 ½ years of having Edie in school, I never ever “had the phone call from the teacher”. 

Apparently, one of my twins was on one side of the room, the other twin was on the other.  The entire classroom was remarkably silent (not my words) and working diligently on a project, when, there’s no other way to put this, and this is exactly what their sweet teacher said,

“Leslie, all Hell broke loose today in class, and for once, I didn’t know what to do!”

        “O!  My!” I said.

        And the teacher told me how my children have always been poster children for behavior, and how silence was golden, and in unison they started screaming at each other saying the same things…and in synchronicity, this was basically how it went…

I heard you say that!

Shut up!

Yes, you did don’t deny it!

You are being mean!

Mummie loves you more!

Daddy loves you the best!

I’m a minute older!

(Well, we all know who said that one…)

(Emma!)

Yes, I am!  I’m older than you,

So you have to listen to me,

And you must do what I say!

And the confrontation continued to escalate, to the point where all of the dirty laundry came out that was going on in our home:  Edie, their father, their mother, their grandparents, and the cat surfaced in the argument.  And the teacher baffled and bewildered said, “I had no clue, Leslie, I had no clue.” 

        Well what was I to say to this accept, “Well, I guess, we all have our moments, right?”

        She told me that she didn’t know who to punish, or how to discuss the situation with them, so she placed them both in two separate classrooms.  And they were in the principal’s office now.  Twin Disobedience.  Twin Fun.  Twin Talk.  Twins Rule!

Part IV

Math Tests

Honesty is one of the most important values in life.  In fact, I remember one day in Junior High when I was taking a test in Science class and the teacher left the classroom.  I didn’t compare my answers, although I did start to talk to Doug and Ron (who sat on either side of me).  I’ll never forget, the three of us said at the same time, “What the heck? Is he sick, or what?”  When our teacher returned, he asked the classroom to write on the back of the first page if we spoke to a neighbor or not and what they spoke about.  Doug, Ron and I not only wrote that we did indeed converse, but not about each other’s answers, we wanted to know if he was sick or not.  Doug, Ron and I were the only ones that admitted that we talked.  When we got our tests back, we received A’s.  We were the only three to receive A’s; everyone else flunked.  (Doug is now by far the most famous and successful in our high school graduating class; Ron runs a prosperous construction business; and me, well… I had twins, and I tell tales.)

Grades are earned, not bought, not by sneaking a peak.  Cheating is not allowed.  If there is problem, you need to get to the root of the cause, make it better, and try harder.  Study more.  Hire a tutor.  That is the bottom line.

        Now that brings us to the first week of fourth grade for Emma & Evan.  At that point, they definitely were in separate classrooms for years.  All of the students had to take placement tests in every subject that week.  Academically speaking, that’s a wonderful ideology. 

        Emma & Evan brought their tests home.  I looked at all of them.  I was satisfied with my children’s scores; they recommended the two of them to be in the same classrooms for English and Mathematics.  I would have to discuss this with the teachers.  But on closer inspection, the Math test indicated to me that they had deceived us all. 

The Scores on Their Tests Had the Exact Same Percentage

They Had the Exact Questions Wrong

They Made the Exact Same Errors

They Cheated

My God!
The Evidence was Right there in Front of Me‼!

I was Devastated.

        But on the other hand, I was so happy that I knew these teachers.  Edie had them as well.  I made and appointment for after school the next day.  I was not a confident mother like going into a conference about Edie Marie.  But I knew, these teachers were reasonable.

We sent the twins to the playground and sat in the hall by the doorway and watched them and talked.  It was a conference of four that the ladies let me take charge of it. 

        I held my head low and slowly brought it up and blah, blah, blah, it came flooding out…“I think Evan & Emma cheated on this math test.  Look same score, same wrong answers, same mistakes, same everything. Plain and simple, cheating.  I cannot believe this is happening.”

        They took their time, because they never looked at the tests side by side before.  They inspected the tests and the more they looked, the more baffled their faces became. 

And then Sheila said to me with the most perplexed face, “Well, Leslie, you are right, this most definitely is a puzzle.”  They all looked at each other again.  “We cannot believe this has ever happened before either.  And it’s not for the same reasons that you are talking about.  Now, Leslie, honey, seriously, take a deep breath.  You are a unique and honest person.  I don’t know if any other mother would actually come forth with this.  We know it took a lot of courage for you to come here today and bring this to our attention, … but …Emma & Evan took the tests the same day and at approximately the same time, but in no way did they sit next to each other nor compare answers, because they were in two separate… and we are emphasizing…separate classrooms.  Case in point, they did not cheat.  And we are as baffled as you are right now how their little minds apparently are synchronized.  Yes, it is all them, no doubt.  They are a unit, and we all can sit here and we could all toast them right now in the perfect setting, but there was no fraud, no wool pulled over anybody’s eyes, and no malice on your children’s part.”

        And I said, “You actually, seriously, want them for two different subjects in the same classrooms together this year, because they are academically equivalent?  Well, I don’t know what else to say here, but, this is so out of my hands, and good luck to you.  I think I’m washing my hands of it all.”

        And we all laughed.

        Twin talk goes beyond “their own language”.  It’s known as idioglossia; it’s been called:  mysterious, an underground party, a secret society.  Multiples are borne with it; it begins at birth and the matrimonial bliss lasts a lifetime.  And if you‘ve never had the unique fortune of experiencing a seat in the front row to watch this concert, then you have missed a show of a generation, because it’s one Hell of a:

Captivating

Compelling

&

Crazy Ride!