Behind The Scenes Of Sibling Play (And Fighting!)

If I were to list all the tall and tiny disagreements my children had in a week - make that in a single day- my fingers would cramp up. Plus it wouldn't be worth the nervous eye twitch I'd have to shake off.

Why just today, the morning started out peacefully as both children played with a simple salad spinner in their jammies. They took turns and each had a different plan for it. I was completely surprised by how this simple thing could create hours of play, and sat nearby feeling warm and cozy watching it all unfold. Don't you love little surprises that don't cost a thing?

By the afternoon, after burying a dead hamster, a doctor's appointment, and a quick trip to the library (can you see where this is going?) - the charming salad spinner game transformed into screaming and rough exchanging back and forth. I came closer to them, feeling overwhelmed by the busy day- and now this that had to be dealt with. I tried sportscasting this struggle at first, giving them a chance to work it out themselves. I had my hand ready to block any hitting or pushing.

"I see you both want the salad spinner....you're both pulling on it....Sister has the salad spinner... now brother is pulling... I would like you both to use a softer voice inside."

Their voices quieted. Tears welled up in Sister Butterly's eyes. Brother Butterfly stopped pulling and walked away to another toy. I'm not completely certain why. He's nearly an equal in strength by now. Perhaps he determined that Sister Butterfly wanted it more? Or maybe he needed some space. He quickly became immersed playing with the blocks. Sister Butterfly stood there with the salad spinner in her hands, and with a look that reminded me of when I raised my hand with a good answer in science class but never got called on.

Then she threw the salad spinner across the room.

"What is your problem?! You nearly broke the new TV!" I scolded her, loud enough I'm sure my neighbor heard. My blood was boiling to the same rhythm as the soup on the stove.

These are the moments where I wish I could keep my cool and continue the path of intentional parenting - but it fails me. It's just so hard. Any secrets, wonderful mamas out there?

She burst into tears, and I knew why. The beloved dead hamster. The long wait at the doctor's office. Listening to her brother wail during his shots. The extra stop at the busy library. Mama yelling at her. Maybe it was all of those things or none of them.

But I sat with her while she cried. I didn't try to stop her feelings, or fix her problems, or lecture her again about losing her temper. In fact, she didn't lecture me about losing mine either. I just let her feelings be while she sat near my lap. She bounced back by dinner time, smiling and talking in record speed about her ballet recital and bickering with her brother about who gets the last bite of pasta (her because she's 4.5, obviously). She was back in top form.

I don't get everything right as a parent, but if listening to her feelings is the only thing I can nail - I'm alright with that.