The time-out swap

I used to be able to count on Matthew.
Or, at least, on his time-outs.
He'd begin testing me immediately after we dropped the older kids off at school. By the second trip to the time-out chair, I knew, without looking at the clock, that it was time to get lunch ready.
The third trip generally came just before we left to pick up the older kids from school, and fourth time-out was our call to dinner. Sometimes, there was a fifth time-out. That meant we were late getting them to bed.
But I couldn't count on Jonathan.
Just the mention of discipline made him quiver.
And whenever his brother was buckled in the time-out chair, he would cry and cry, demanding that I set him free.
I could honestly say that Matthew was our difficult twin.
Not anymore.
Just as they have done with so many other personality traits, Matthew and Jonathan have swapped. It's almost like they are toying with us. They push us and push us to label them and then, just when we're confident that we know these guys, that we know who they are and that we can openly say so, they pull a fast one.
One takes on the trait of the other.
But that doesn't mean they mimic each other.
Somehow, they still manage to do it in their own, individual ways.
Yes, Matthew's behavior has improved.
But he doesn't have the empathy that Jonathan had.
He couldn't care less whether his brother gets a time-out.
And I can't count on Jonathan like I could count on Matthew.
Jonathan's time-outs come in one endless stream all day long and they are proceeded by screeches of "I don't like," I don't," and "I will not" along with lots of hitting and pushing.
Matthew simply defied us, quietly and boldly.
I'm not thrilled with this phase, but I am thrilled to find even more evidence that identical genes do not mean that Matthew and Jonathan will respond to situations with identical emotions and attitudes.
Even in their rebellion, they are individuals.

A different kind of mom

I used to be a good mom.
My kids, my older kids, never had more than two hours a day of combined screen time (TV and computer) as per the recommendations of the American Academy of Pediatrics. Even then, I allowed only commercial-free TV and educational computer games.
I scoffed at moms who regularly visited McDonald's or Burger King. Once a month was too much in my opinion. I shopped for fruit and vegetables at a local produce store and dessert was a rarity.
Doughnuts?
Forget it.
The house was clean.
The kids were in bed by 8 p.m.
My children were well-disciplined, knowing that time-outs would come swiftly--anytime, anywhere--if they misbehaved.
I was in tune with them, responding to their every whimper.
Now they have to scream.
The twins had their first McDonald's French fries before they turned a year old (They don't like the nuggets). The television is on whenever they are awake. Sometimes, I just pray that they'll actually watch it so I can have a break.
At least once a day, I pretend not to see an infraction because I don't have the energy for a time-out. I know it will come back to haunt me in the long run, but I don't think as far in advance as I used to. I just hope that I'll get through each day.
I lose my temper with the older kids quickly if they argue. On the weekends, they get far more computer time than they should. They went to bed at 9:30 last night, a school night, because my husband was sick and I had too much to do before I could get around to their bedtime routine.
I was feeling horrible about my new parenting methods as I prepared, at midnight, to finally drag myself up to bed. Then I picked up the snack dishes the older kids had left behind and I smiled.
Riley, who just celebrated his 9th birthday, had asked for spinach as part of his snack. Not a leaf was left behind. His 7-year-old sister, Kiersten, had asked for a cheese stick. Granted, they'd had two small cookies, but it never occurred to them to ask for more.
I'd had good conversations with each as I read to them and tucked them in.
They had cleaned their rooms when I asked, showered when I asked and turned the TV off when I told them to. Earlier in the evening, they had come into the nursery to give their twin brothers goodnight kisses. Jonathan and Matthew had grinned in delight at the sight of their older siblings, who share a bond not much unlike their own.
As I turned off lights, removed books from beds and shut bedroom doors, I couldn't help thinking that Riley and Kiersten have not been "ruined" by a few too many hours of television or computer time. Nor have they been destroyed by an occasional doughnut on a Wednesday morning.
And I think I know why.
The one thing that has not changed is that we all listen. We listen to each other with respect and caring and love even when we're angry or frustrated or overwhelmed or when we need to take a few minutes to ourselves first.
Maybe the rest is overrated.
Maybe there is hope for the twins.

Double time-outs: the logistics

Years before I got pregnant with the twins, I knew a woman who had identical girls. Like my boys, they were feisty. She had tried giving them time-outs in pack-n-plays, but it didn't work. They just played, even with no toys.
So she locked them in the laundry room.
I was horrified.
She insisted that she had no choice, especially when she had to do two time-outs at once. She said that I didn't understand because I didn't have twins. My older kids are 17 months apart. Singleton moms just didn't get it, she said.
She was right.
I didn't understand then and I don't understand now, even with feisty toddler twins of my own.
What she did was wrong.
It is possible to give double time-outs without locking twins in laundry rooms. For a while, I did simultaneous time-outs almost daily, and Matthew and Jonathan are far bigger and stronger than her girls were at their age.
It's not pretty and it's not fun, but it is possible.
Here's how I do it:
I squat down, grab both boys and sit on my heels. I pull one twin on each knee and, for each child, I bring one of my arms over his shoulder and diagonally across his chest like a seat belt. Then I grab one of his thighs and he is locked in.
He can't get out.
I very awkwardly place my head between theirs so that if they thrash about, their heads will hit my cheeks instead of each other's skulls. Then I count two minutes in my head and pray that my arms will hold out.
When it's over, they both get a reminder, a hug and kiss.
I started the double time-outs because the boys tend to take advantage of each other's distress. If one child is getting a time-out, the other will often commit the same offense just to test me. It took some time, but they are finally learning that I am stronger, more clever and more determined than they are.
More often, I am doing one time-out at a time.
They are even learning to sit for the duration with only occasional repositioning (Well, okay, every 15 seconds or so).
As for my friend, she stopped the laundry room time-outs after one daughter found a hanger on top of the dryer and got the hook caught in her mouth. Her daughter recovered just fine, but my friend was shaken.
I'm just sorry it took an injury for her to come to her senses.