He has the more Asian eyes.
There. I'd said it. I hadn't meant to say it. I'd never said it before. But there it was, out in the open: He has the more Asian eyes.
They'd stood there staring at his eyes, at the eyes of his brother, at my eyes. The eyes of strangers darting from boy to boy, trying to tell them apart. Asian eyes - this one. Non-Asian eyes - that one? Is that what she meant?
Cute twin, homely twin? White verses Asian? Aha - she has a favorite! She's proud of his eyes, so much like her own. Asian eyes. No, no - she's embarrassed by his eyes, so much like her own. The Asian twin, more like his mother. The caucasian twin, more like his father.
Stop!
Let's rewind, shall we? He's the one with the goofy grin. His brother has the wider face darker hair bigger feet--his shirt on backwards.
Now can you tell the difference? C'mon!
As the mom of fraternal twins boys, I'm aware that despite their many differences, they resemble each other just enough physically, that to the untrained eye, they look very much alike. So when new people we encounter ask us that age old question of how we tell them apart, sometimes, I'm stumped.
I've got to give people physical cues. He's wearing red. He's wearing white. He has the Frankenstein stitches. He's my frowning smiley boy today! I'm well aware of the many ways we can help people learn to identify each twin, but sometimes, with strangers, I need to give them something quick and memorable. Sure, parents of newborn multiples have their tricks (nail polish, color coded clothes, hair clips), but we're so beyond that in age.
On this particular day, we'd just arrived for a fun day of observing an outdoor parent participation preschool in action. The class had paused for a moment to welcome us in, and I'd blurted out the Asian eyes remark. It's not the usual visual cue I give to strangers, but it came tumbling out of my mouth, flippantly. My boys both happened to be wearing the same exact Star Wars shirt that day, thereby eliminating clothing as a visual cue. They'll get to know who is who by the end of the day, I figured.
The Asian eyes description had been coined by many a friend, acquaintance and stranger. They come up to me and say it. "Oh, he has your eyes." "His eyes are a bit more Asian."
I'm not offended. Ever. Should I be? Apparently, one of my sons seems to have inherited my almond eye shape and people use this characteristic as an initial way of telling my twin boys apart.
But just as we were about to leave the woodsy setting of the outdoor preschool, the teacher quietly pulled me aside. She apologized, saying she didn't know me very well, but wanted to suggest that I not differentiate my children based on physical attributes, especially the Asian eye thing.
Oh, that.
She continued, saying something like people might wonder if I thought it was a good thing or not. I think she didn't want my sons to get a complex based on racial differences.
I get that. (There's so much literature out there on the topic of twins and identity.) I'd said the Asian eye thing once, and I'll try not to say it again. Still, it's hard to be politically correct when pointing out each of my twins' unique differences. A friend of mine differentiates her girls to strangers on the basis of her twins' difference in height. Another friend has no issues in citing the pronounced difference in her twins' skin color. Sometimes, pointing out physical (& albeit sometimes, racial traits) is the most obvious and effective way to help other people tell your twins apart. It might not be the best way or the most politically correct way, but it works, especially if there are no comparative agendas pitting twin against twin.
I'd meant nothing by way of racial overtones when I'd said my son has the more Asian eyes. His eyes, however they look, make him no more or less loved than his brother.
My eyes are cross-eyed just thinking about all of this.
So while I'm certainly more mindful of the way I describe my twins to others, I still can't come up with an effective way of helping our newly acquainted friends tell my boys apart. If I should stay away from citing differences in physical characteristics, I hope it's okay to point out that the twin formerly known as "Asian eyes" has a tiny speck of a mole on his left check. I just noticed it the other day.
So now you know. The way to tell the difference between my two boys is ... the mole. It may be the size of the period at the end of this sentence, but it carries a whole lot of meaning.
