One of my big fears when I found out that I was pregnant with twins was that I would love one more than the other. This has certainly not turned out to be the case. I love both Elsa and Clio to an equal, insanely powerful degree. What I didn't anticipate, however, was how differently I would love them. In fact, I don't know that I really realized before they came along how individualized the nature of love is. But it makes all the sense in the world. Every person is unique, so how could the love you feel for them not be unique, too?

But I have now violated my own rule against using the word "love" more than three times in a single paragraph, and must move on to the primary subject of this post: my relationship with Elsa

One of the things I'm very aware of in my love for Madame Elsa is a sense of recognition. That is, I see a lot of myself in her. Who knows what it is, exactly? We have the same blood type, hair and eye color; the same chubby cheeks. My parents see a resemblance between her and their memories of me at her age. But it goes beyond the physical. Mostly, I just feel the resemblance between us -- this sense that we are cut from the same cloth; that we approach the world in simliar ways. And as much as this sense of kindred spirits delights me, it also scares the crapola out of me.

What does it mean, to have this flesh of my flesh, soul of my soul in the world? I see the possibility of a deep and abiding friendship; a kind of connection that I've never had with another person. On the other hand, I see the potential for great battles and clashes of will. We may end up like magnets with our matched (stubborn! passionate! self-absorbed!) poles facing, pushing each other away. 

It's impossible to predict, and I certainly don't want to get myself into a whole head trip about how alike or different we are, or how we'll relate in the future. Lord knows I don't think of Elsa as a "mini-me" -- or want to. But I can't help the fact that sometimes, when I look at her, I feel like I'm looking at the child I used to be. It's scary.

This is me, circa early 1976, just shy of two years old. (Please note the insane 70s wallpaper, the patriotic '76 bicentennial brochure, and the smiley face pin on the bulletin board.) I see a little of both Clio and Elsa in me in this pic, actually.

And here's me with Elsa at my parents' house this past weekend. The groovy outfit Elsa is wearing is one that I wore when I  was about her age -- my mom kept it in storage all these years. I don't know if anyone else will see a resemblance between us (either when I was a toddler or now) but I do. 

And as long as I'm posting family photos, here's another one from the weekend, of my mom (who people have always said I resemble, which I take as a great compliment) with the girls. What Crazy Clio is doing in this picture pretty much sums how and why I adore her in such a joyful and doting and unexpected way -- equally powerful and primal but completely different from the way I love Elsa. But that's a subject for another day.