Going back to my younger years for a bit, I've heard that I didn't officially start talking until around three or four years of age—though my twin sister and I were still incredibly close. There are pictures of us watching cartoons as toddlers and playing together in the living room. My sister started speaking before I did, and unlike me, her first words actually made sense!

My mom mentioned that I talked really fast when I was little (and I still do!) and eventually developed a stutter. Because of that, I started doing Speech-Language Therapy (SLP) with different therapists to help build my social skills, support my stutter, and work on how I pronounced things. My sister would sometimes join me at SLP as well cuz she had her own things she needed to work on. Such as this one through a local society which I found out years later that one of my closest friends now (despite the age gap) worked there a bit around the time I was there! So for all I know, I could've known her back then too! Coincidentally, she would work with me years later too as my youth worker before we became as good of friends as we are now.

I remember playing different Cranium games with my therapists, but I liked the treasure-themed one the most! There was also a Cranium game my twin and I ended up getting to play in our sessions together, as well as at home. We either received it from an SLP we worked with or bought it ourselves—it was called Cranium Hullabaloo, and man, was that game something else!

It came with a little electronic console and these soft pads featuring different shapes and characters. We had to jump or move onto the pads using whatever fun actions the voice on the gadget called out as we played. Those were the days really.

My sister and I did a lot of SLP growing up as toddlers, til we were still in elementary/middle school before I stopped doing it for the most part and I do think it helped us in our own ways. I'd like to think that if it weren't for me talking later than normal or having my issues with my stutter/speech, we wouldn't have gotten our Autism diagnoses.

I remember one time when I was a toddler having to go to the hospital because I burned my hand on the stove. I recall my sister getting to hang out and spend time in the hospital play area, and little me was so bummed that I couldn't join her :((!

Even though we spent practically 24/7 together as kids until we were about 12 years old, we still had our own unique interests and favorite things. My sister loved her polka-dot hat, her yellow teddy bear baby blanket, and her purple Care Bear that she got when we were born.

Me, on the other hand, I loved my pink Care Bear just as much as she loved her purple one! We both gave them our own distinct first names—though for whatever reason, they shared the exact same last name XD. I was also super attached to my pink baby blanket (which had dolls or something on it), my Winnie the Pooh blanket (which I affectionately called my "pooh blankey"), and this red and blue toy microphone that I carried around with me everywhere I went around the house!

One of my earliest memories—which I swear was when I was a toddler or maybe just a bit older—was sitting on a dresser while playing stuffies with my sister in our bedroom at one of our old houses. Playing with stuffies was always my all-time favorite activity to do with her.

It brought so much joy to me whenever I got to play "stuffies" (as we called it) with my sister. We had our own unique names for all of our plushies and dolls, and they had their own entire world filled with families, friends, and relatives! It just felt so perfect. Even though everything wasn't always completely perfect—with my sister bossing me around at times, or me unintentionally doing the exact same thing to her—it sure didn't seem to make much of a difference to me. I was in my happy place, and I loved it so much.

As I would find out later on, though, there was another interest that would come along and capture my sister's attention even more than playing stuffies ever did! Though we still loved playing with our big colourful blocks!

Like most kids, my sister and I were introduced to Disney and Pixar films quite early on in our lives. However, there was also one other big movie that I recall being introduced to super early alongside my twin—before our parents realized they probably shouldn't be letting us watch it!

And that movie was Grease.

Ah, Grease... You know, that classic teen love story musical set in the 1950s where a guy and a girl meet at the beach during the summer, then unintentionally reunite at the same high school for their senior year? I saw that film for the very first time when I was only four or five years old!

The most distinct time I recall watching it (or its sequel) was when my mom's twin's youngest kid and his girlfriend were babysitting my sister and me at our aunt's place. Later that day, they took us to a local indoor play place to play hide-and-seek, where my sister hilariously mistook her own reflection in the plastic tunnels for me!

When I think about it, I really do feel like being introduced to Grease that early on in my life was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, that movie is such a huge part of my childhood, and for the most part, I wouldn't want to change a thing about it!

On the other hand? I definitely could have lived without the memory of being genuinely freaked out by the raunchy, mature art style of the animated intro sequence that plays right after the opening beach scene.

Plus, as soon as my parents realized the movie was way too mature for us, they completely banned us from watching it until we were at least 15 or 16. To little me, who was already fully obsessed with the first film, that ban was hugely devastating.

So of course whenever we had computer time at school in kindergarten, I would secretly search up Grease songs and movie clips on the old classroom computers!

Speaking of crazy stories from my childhood, my sister is obsessed with telling this one specific story from back when we were toddlers.

Our dad used to take us along with him to visit his seamstress, who made his Elvis jumpsuits. On one of those visits, the seamstress's daughter was there and thought it would be fun to spin the two of us around, one at a time, in an office computer chair. She spun us around multiple times until the seamstress finally had to step in and say, "Okay, that's enough!"

And then as we headed home in the car, eating our classic childhood snack of raisins while both wearing white outfits, crossing a local bridge on the ride home, we ended up throwing up right after one another, ruining our white clothes and making an absolute gross mess! Our dad still loves telling that story too cuz he thinks it's so funny, but I'm sure my mom didn't find it that fun to bathe us when we came home all stinked up like puke.

I still don't get why my sister loves to share the story so much... I guess it is somewhat funny or it could be considered funny to some people, but I just find it so gross and weird to think about.

Gross stories aside, those toddler years were where our bond was built—and that bond would continue as we headed into elementary school.

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