Reason #373 Why Having Twins is STILL Awesome

Because even though the school photographer seriously screwed up your kids school pictures the first time around [mistaking your two children for JUST ONE CHILD] you sucked it up and ordered the pictures anyway.

Last week we got the pictures back.

Here's what they looked like:


Ahem.

Talk about identical. Right down to the allergy eyes, the parts in their hair and the wrinkles in their shirts.

Man. I had no idea my kids looked that much alike. I mean I know they're twins and all, but c'mon now! This is kind of eerie.

Its almost like they're the same per---oh wait.

They are the same person. These are both pictures of Cash.

Way to go Mr. School Photographer, you did it again. You've managed to take my kids from two children to one and then back again. I have to say I really admire your consistency.

Sigh......at least I have enough pictures of Cash now to wrap all our Christmas presents with.

Reason #372 Why Having Twins is Awesome

The school photographer thinks that your two perfectly, OBVIOUSLY separate children, are in fact, just one child.



So much so that he only sent back pictures of one, thinking the other child's pictures, in an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT SWEATER VEST, were just extras. Which in turn, screwed up the entire class list, and every child behind mine in line was mislabeled.

Come now, sir, was it really that hard? Can you not tell the difference between a pennant flag and an American flag? Can you not see that only one of my children found your 'fat chicken' joke even remotely funny? Did you not notice that only one of them is expertly contorting his smile to conceal a spot where a tooth once was? Isn't the potato-head/tomato-head comparison blatantly obvious?

I'm just not sure I understand the confusion here. It only took me a measly two years to confidently determine just who was who.

So there. Mr. Photographer. I'm seriously considering NOT letting you rip me off with your over-priced picture packages. Thats right! You heard me! This whole snafu has definitely forced me onto the fence about handing over to you my currently-imaginary-semi-hard-earned moneys.

Oh and by the way...Hayden wants to know why Cash gets to be color and he has to be gray.

I'm leaving that one up to you.

Expect a call from my son in the AM.

Wardrobe Woes

Tuesday I took the boys to be screened for Kindergarten Readiness [school speak for super-preK].
They were lucky enough to be screened by the teacher they'll start school with next week in the classroom they'll be in all year long.

They went in shy and a little apprehensive, and came out talkative and completely excited, visibly jazzed about the prospects of higher education.

As I signed the last few official pieces of paperwork, their teacher began to quiz me on how to tell them apart from each other. I gave her the usual rundown, "Hayden's face is long, Cash's is round, Hayden has a cowlick, Cash has a birthmark" while assuring her that before long she'll have no problem telling them apart, unless, of course, she's standing behind them.

She laughed, and then went on to express her gratitude that I did not dress them alike.

And then it hit me, all at once, like an overstuffed backpack landing on my head as I creaked open the imaginary locker door of my doomed reality.

My kids are about to start school 5 days a week, 6 hours a day.

Its going to be emotional. Our lives our going to change. And yes, I'm going to miss them. Of course I'm going to miss them. I'll miss them just like I'd miss my arms if they left me all day long to become smarter then they ever would staying at home attached to my shoulders.

But, OMG. What I'm really freaking out about?

I'm going to have to dress them.

Differently.

Every day of the week.

I'm going to actually have to use my brain when I walk into the closet.

I'm going to have treat my kids like the actual individuals they are, and dress them as if they were separate entities, instead of some adorable little freak show.

I'm going to have to like, plan ahead or something.

All this on top of getting them up unfortunately early AND making sure they're fed. And let's not even get started on that whole "Be on time, when on time is 7:30 AAAAAAAMMMMMMM" thing.

Woe. Is. Me.

Where's a uniform when I need one?