My children never fight. My children are so similar that they have little to argue about. We have done such a GOOD job with our children, making sure that they aren’t competitive with each other and they never feel that we favor one over the other.
Yeah, right.
Here’s the truth: Our children, though similar in some ways, are polar opposites in personality. Getting them to get along has been something we’ve been working on since the younger one realized that if she pulled the older one’s hair, something exciting would happen! The younger one loves excitement. The older one always wants to know what’s about to happen, what will happen in fifteen minutes, and what will happen years from now.
I remember a conversation they had in the car one day. The younger one was saying that as soon as she could, she was going to leave home and travel around the world and NEVER live with us again. The older one replied that he wanted to live in our house forever. He never wanted us to sell our house, and if we had to, we should sell it to him.
We have tried lots of things. We have family meetings, we point out their respective important places in our family, we talk with the older one, who is old enough to know about these things, about what we all have to do in our family to get along.
We even tried paying him to get along with his sister.
It worked…for about a week. After the first payment, everything went downhill. Apparently money (which is being saved toward the purchase of Lego Mindstorms NXT), is just not as important as making sure he gets in the last word with his sister.
The older one always has to be right. The younger one always has to know everything. There’s not a lot of room for compromise there.
Today in the car on the home from picking up Mr. Know-it-all, he and his sister started to argue about whether a town near ours was a “city” or a “village.” She maintained it was a city, and said that it was clearly a city because so many people lived there. He maintained it was a village because “everyone knows that it’s a village.”
I declared an end to the conversation and he was relieved. “OK,” he said to his sister. “Now Mommy will tell us whether it’s a city or a village.”
Mommy did no such thing.
These arguments drag out like chameleons, never tiring of their color changes. As I sat upstairs trying to work on the massive healthcare bill we are going to be faced with, I heard the fight escalate. I heard “Ow!!!” from him and “You broke my glasses” from her.
I was tempted to intervene, but I was busy, so I let it slide… into… silence. I finished working on the healthcare problem and went downstairs. They were both nestled into the couch behind the back cushions, each reading a Magic Treehouse book. She loves Magic Treehouse because it’s easy enough to read and full of science. I think he loves Magic Treehouse because she does, and that’s what’s really going on.
They really do love each other. When he’s remorseful, he tearfully tells me how great she is and how impressed he is by her and how very funny her ridiculous, strongly held opinions are.
When she’s calm and he’s not around, she writes love notes to him, draws pictures for him, and tells strangers that we meet all about him. In her eyes, he’s a star.
A vexing, difficult star, but a star nonetheless.
My kids are like Laurel and Hardy, the roadrunner and the coyote, the kitty and Pepe le Peu. They’re forever bonking each other on the heads with 500 pound safes and then making it up after the credits roll. If I make sure not to intrude too much, they can find their peace with each other. But whenever there’s an audience to be entertained…
Someone recently pointed out to me that six-year-olds love to shock their parents by saying things like “You don’t love me anymore,” and “you love my brother more than me.” I felt a little smug that MY six-year-old had never compared my love for her to my love for her brother.
Then today… “You love him more than me!” It was pure, six-year-old drama. I played my part and recited my reassuring lines. She brightened up. As long as we stick with the scripts, it’s going to be OK.
