Writing -- Baby Talk: Voices

The following article featured in a weekly column on parenting in the Women on Wednesday supplement of The Evening Echo, one of Ireland's leading regional daily newspapers. It appeared in the 03 November 2004 issue.

We all have a conscience: that little voice inside our heads that tells us right from wrong. Well recently mine seems to have acquired a real voice… or two to be more accurate. Yes, lucky me, the twins have decided that it's their job to point out all of those little mistakes that Dad makes every day.

Take driving, for example. The other day I was driving along when suddenly from the back seat conscience number one chimed: "Dad, it was red… you went when the light was red."

"No, I didn't, it was green," I retorted, instantly on the defensive.

"But Dad, I seed it was red," conscience number two chided. They were ganging up on me again!

I hadn't gone through a red light, of course. They struggle with the intricacies of traffic lights. Red is for stop, green is for go… that much they understand, but they get confused when they look out of the side windows and see the red lights for traffic from the other direction. It doesn't matter how often I try to explain it to them, they still maintain that Dad routinely drives through red lights, and they aren't shy about broadcasting it to anyone who cares to listen. People must think I drive like a lunatic.

When I jump in the car I have a bad habit of setting off before fastening my seatbelt. I tend to buckle up as I'm pulling away, which is one of my wife's pet hates. The twins, of course, have picked up on her disapproval and are now constantly on alert to help Mum "readjust" Dad's inappropriate behaviour. When they're in the car if I move so much as an inch before fastening my seatbelt there's an outcry in stereo from the back seat and they report back to Mum when they get home. I can't get away with anything these days….

It constantly amazes me how selective the twins' attention can be. They seem to be able to switch their senses on and off at will. When you're trying to attract their attention, say to clean up their toys or to get them to bed, you have to practically dance a jig in front of them while singing at the top of your voice. On the other hand, if you're trying to hide something from them they're instantly alert. They can hear the rustle of a sweet wrapper at a hundred paces, and spot the slightest discrepancy in a nanosecond. "What are you doing Dad?" is the inevitable chorus when there's even a hint of surreptitious activity on my part.

Their fourth birthday is coming up, and packages started arriving for them this week: cards and presents from friends and relatives abroad. We've been trying to intercept the postman every day to hide their presents until their birthday, but they're starting to get suspicious. Now if they're around when the postman arrives they're taking an unusual interest in what he's delivering. It's getting increasingly difficult to swipe their parcels without them noticing.

Of course it doesn't help matters when they run out to meet the postman at the gate and he hands packages directly to them. Trying to stop them from opening them at that point is simply a non-starter. The other day I arrived home and was met by two very excited little girls eager to show off what the postman had brought for them. They were beaming from ear-to-ear. You do your best, but sometimes you have to admit defeat in order to preserve your sanity.