Memory - The Game Of Survival?

In my house, I am forced to play a perpetual game of Memory. I can't say that I played the game all that much as a child, which was probably due to the fact that I don't think I was very good at it.

But I've become an expert. When two three-year olds are having an acrimonious debate over a toy, you learn fast. I've tried techniques telling them to "share with your sister" or "count to ten and then we'll switch". My husband has even gone with the realistic approach; "that's what having a sister is all about; live with it".

Indeed, my girls are distinguished sharers, but I tend to forget that they are together 24/7 and it's a lot to ask of a 3-year old to constantly share. Everything.

Just as you might suspect, we have two of almost everything as it relates to the girls. Usually in different colors to help distinguish which one belongs to which child. In the beginning, anything green/blue/purple generally belonged to Jaeda. Anything pink/yellow/orange was Tristyn's. But then they got smart on me. "I want the [insert color] one!" So, we keep Sharpie markers handy to quickly brand a toy or an article of clothing. Anything not marked is cemented in their brains as to which one is theirs.

Most of the time, I can defer to them and ask, "is the pink princess wand yours, or your sister's?" But recently, I've noticed to propensity to lie in order to convince mama that the one in question is indeed theirs, even if it's not.

It would appear that I've honed my Memory skills through the preservation of peace in my house, because on any given day, I usually know exactly where the second set of purple Barbie sunglasses are.

The other day, I surprised myself: while driving, one twin dramatically realized she didn't have her Mardi Gras bead necklace. No big deal right? Ha! Her sister had one and started taunting her with it. Without blinking, I reached back into the bin that I keep in between the seats and felt around for those blessed beads. How I knew they were there, I don't know, but there they were and within an instant, taunting-twin was put in her place by dramatic-twin showing her the newly found necklace.

*sigh* Disaster (aka tantrum) averted. I fully recognize that providing them with a duplicate item simply placates them, and I miss out on a potential teachable moment, but most times, I just don't have the energy.

Modern parents are reluctant to admit the tenuous truth that so much about raising children is appeasing these pint-sized monsters.

Were our parents the same way? Is it a twin thing, or do all (similar age) siblings demand toy equality? Am I creating an unhealthy dynamic between them? So many questions, but my brain space is devoted to trying to remember where I saw that other damned Zhu zhu pet...


Sharing Daddy's lap