Mike Check, One, Two...Is This Thing On?

                                                              

                                                             
                                  Li'l B checkin' the mike. Yup! It works, sometimes.


      I know you parents/caregivers have gone through the "I may as well talk to a wall" routine.  Some days I feel like all I do is yell at my children, and by that I don't mean yelling at them because they are misbehaving, but yelling just to be  heard.  I can say, "No," until I feel like if I say it one more time, I'm going to go running and screaming from the house.  Or just speaking loudly a lot to avoid injuries from them not understanding exactly why they cannot jump from the couch onto a chair.  *Oi Vey*  And was everyone aware that we are responsible for the people these little people become, was everyone aware of that?!  The things we teach them are the things they will carry through life; it will be how they live their lives!  (Please take a moment to grab that brown paper bag with me to breathe into.  Inhale, exhale. Repeat.)  Okay, moving on, shall we?


     Everyday our little ones are learning.  And a big way they learn is by watching us.  (Yes, you constantly have eyes on you, every moment of everyday. Just a tad disturbing, isn't it?)  Always watching, always taking in how we respond to circumstances.  But another way they learn is by what we are teaching them.  Now, this is where a lot of times, I almost walk over to the same wall I feel I should be talking to, and envision ramming my head into it.  Especially with Li'l B.  Now, it's not his fault, and his big sister went through this phase, but seriously.  Don't children learn by repetition?  By this point, Li'l B should know just by me raising my eyebrows that the next word out of my mouth is going to be, "No!"  But he doesn't.  Or should I say, the little monster is testing me.  And yes, he's very, very good at it.   

      Recently, my angel of a mother kept Li'l B so that Miss G and I could have some "mommy-daughter" time.  I fretted every second of every minute of everyday because I know how he can be lately at home, or especially in a store.  I call her up to check in on how he's been.  Very cautiously I ask the question...."So.......how's he been?"  I grimace, waiting for her to say, "Maybe you should come get him, he screams constantly and I can't get any grocery shopping done."  Instead, she exclaims, "Oh, he's been great! Such a little helper and when we went to the store, he helped me push the cart."  I sat stunned.  "You are talking about Li'l B, right?"  She laughed and said, "Honey, kids are more likely to misbehave with their parents.  You did it, and now they are doing it."  I had been trying to get this kid to hold onto the grocery cart for I don't know how long and he would always scream in the store, "Mommy, hold me!"  I received looks, oh yes, those looks.  And here he goes and acts just like I wanted him to for someone else.  So, wait.  Why exactly am I upset by this?  He is behaving how I have showed him is the acceptable way to behave.  He is helping, he is not throwing tantrums.  Eureka!  He was listening this whole time!!  *Happy dance, pat myself on the back*  Score one for momma. 

     The hubby and I are also trying to instill healthy eating habits with our children.  Not a lot of sugar, no pop, snacks are fruits and their drinks are milk, water or occasionally juice.  Now yes, they do get candy from time to time or ice cream, I mean come on, we're not heartless, but there is no harm in having your child make healthy choices.  Miss G was with friends one day and they decided to stop for lunch.  Some kids had pop and asked her if she would like some.  (Warning: Proud Momma Moment ahead...) Miss G said, "No thank you.  I don't drink pop."  Wwwhhhaaatttt?!  She listened and stuck to her guns.  She ordered water.  I have always feared the Peer Pressure, especially with her because she is a "follow the crowd" type of girl already.  *sigh*  So this was a monumental moment for me in Parenting. 

     A funny story that happened just this past week was when Miss G was at Vacation Bible School with my aunts.  All the kids were singing and naturally, God was mentioned in the song.  But Miss G refused to sing.  My aunt asked her why she wasn't singing and she replied, "I'm not allowed to say that."  My aunt, puzzled, asked, "What are you not allowed to say?"  G responded, "I'm not allowed to say 'God'."  Here is why Miss G refused: One day, she did something funny and the phrase, "Oh God" slipped out of my mouth.  (I know, I am to be banished.) Well, she repeated it, naturally.  So I sat down with her and said, "Sweetie, mommy's sorry, I shouldn't have said that.  We don't say, 'God'.  You can say, 'Oh my gosh,' or 'Oh my goodness,', okay?"  She said, "Okay, mommy, I'm sorry."  And that was that.  Low and behold, she listened!  And took that lesson with her and refused to say the word that she knew she could not say.  I am still astonished by this.  And I cleared up with my family that we are not devil-worshippers or anything like that. 

     Just when you think no one is listening, just remember, they are; they really are.  The hills may have eyes (get it?  If not, it's a movie), but the Walls Have Ears.  And every now and then, they perk up, even for a moment.  So remember this; the kiddies are watching, they are listening, and they are waiting to shock the hell out of you when you least expect it.  Always be on your toes.
    

The Art of Smart Defense

     When I was younger, heck, who am I kidding, even now that I'm mostly grown, I was/am an extremely passive person.  I was told the following phrase when I was younger from someone (and if they read this they will instantly know it was them, *wink wink*) and please, pardon the language, "You wouldn't say s*^t if you had a mouth full of it."  Yup, that pretty much summed up my personal defense skills to a "T".  I remember thinking, first of all, that was the grossest thing I'd ever heard, and two, it was very accurate.  I was a doormat for quite a few people. Walked all over because I was too nice, made fun of, poked fun toward, and yes, mostly right in front of me.  You know how some people can be, they want to impress someone or appear funny so it's aimed at your expense since hey, let's face it, you'll just stand there and take it.  But with my mentality, I just shrugged it off because I knew they were only trying to be "cool" and in my mind it was immature.  Less I digress and I really don't need to go back to aspects of childhood right now.  I was always better at standing up for others than for myself.  I have no idea why, it was just easier I guess.  I've never really experienced such an emotion as being aggressive or outspoken.  And why would I?  It wasn't in my nature.  But let me tell you, and many parents/caregivers, etc., will most certainly agree; it doesn't matter if you're the aggressive type, passive, quiet, reserved, don't give a hoot what anyone thinks; someone, anyone is rude or degrading to your babies, you go from zero to Incredible Hulk in point two seconds.  And I'm letting little bits of my Hulk out more and more lately.  Scared?  Boy, I know I am.

     Miss G is a social butterfly; she's sweet, friendly, calls kids she just meets her "best friends".  It makes my heart swell, truly.  For a little person to be so affectionate, it just blows me away.  I know where she gets her compassion from- moi.  As for the outgoing-side of her?  That is all her father.  (I was shy and passive, remember?)  Now that the temps have risen and the sun is shining in all it's glory, we are going to the park more often.  AKA, everyday.  Miss G of course desires to play with other little girls, because well, the only other kid around is her little brother.  She will actually chase girls around calling out, "Wait up, friend!"  And usually they run from her.  It honestly breaks my heart into a million pieces to where I want to physically hold those girls down and yell, "Would it kill you to let her play?!"  But, I restrain myself and nicely call out, "Sweet-Pea, why don't you come play with Mommy and Brover?"  The girl is resilient though, I must give her that. 

     So anywho...the last time we were at the park, I was with Li'l B at a slide and Miss G had asked a little girl if she could play and the little girl said yes.  (I did a fist-pump in my head.)  After about fifteen minutes or so of Miss G being fine enough to play with, the little girl's friend shows up and they start running away from my daughter; hiding on top of structures, laughing and pointing as they see her looking for them.  I, naturally, start feeling like I'm on fire.  Miss G finds them at one point and they again start running from her and she of course follows.  I hear the one bleach-blonde girl turn and yell, "STOP FOLLOWING US!"  The look on my beautiful, innocent, lovely daughter's face.....I can't even visualize it without my eyes misting up.  She was truly hurt down to her very core, and confused.  I will admit here that I held my tongue no longer.  I did not speak directly to the girls, but turned in their direction as I spoke to Miss G (very loudly) about not having to take little girls' rudeness and how she was fine to play with until someone else came along.  After that, the two girls kept eyeing me and I glared right back. 

     On our walk home, I tried telling her to stick up for herself and to not let others make her feel inferior.  Then I had to describe inferior because, well, she's three.  One of my exact sentences was, "Sweetie, have a voice.  Please don't sit back and let others make you feel bad.  Mommy never stuck up for herself, but know that I will always stick up for you.  I want you to be better than mommy was when she was little.  I want you to be strong, but smart about it too."  Then we went into nice ways to tell people if they are being rude or hurtful.  While chatting with her, it hit me.  She is three.  It deeply saddened me to even have this type of conversation with her so early in the game, but I realized it was necessary.

     It's funny what person you turn into when you have a child.  Personally, I went from extremely passive to Momma Bear in the blink of an eye.  These are my babies and no one, I mean no one, better make them feel an ounce of hurt or sadness.  At the same time, I also need to realize that it is inevitable that at some point, they will.  It is our job as their guides, protectors, mentors, to show them what they can do to resolve the problem, but not add to it by mirroring others' negative attitudes.  From the beginning of time, some kids have been just plain cruel; we've all either been a target or been the bully.  With bullying being a hot topic lately, all I could envision was these three girls grown and in high school; the two throwing their hair back and laughing, my daughter slinking her shoulders and hiding her face out of embarrassment. 

     I may not have the capability to travel back in time and slap myself into speaking up, but I sure as heck can speak up for my children and show them the proper way to react; how I wish I would've reacted so long ago.  The meek-era will end with myself.  It's a new era for my children.  Smart and Strong.  Strong and Smart.

    

                                                               

                                                               Miss G and Li'l B

A Mother Was Born

     With Mother's Day approaching, I wanted to take a moment to thank my babies (well, and my husband) for making me a mother.  It's really all I ever wanted to be.  (Besides a marine biologist, teacher, veterinarian, actress, writer, less I digress.)  It was one of those things I actually yearned for, and as I became older, I knew it was something I had to be.  For some people, they have no desire to have kids and that is perfectly fine, but for me, I knew children had to be a part of my life.  I felt that I was born to be a mother.  I've always said, I'm better with children and the elderly, and I can't give birth to an 80 year old, now can I. 

       When I became pregnant with our daughter, I was over the moon.  And to feel her move and kick, wow, utterly amazing.  I read all sorts of books about pregnancy, knew how big she was at certain gestational ages, the works.  Then she was born.  Wait a sec, I forgot to read what to do after they're born!  The nurse placed her in my arms, I looked at her squishy face...and I panicked.  If I remember correctly, I cried.  There were tears of joy, sure, and tears of "what the hell do I do now".  Wasn't this that magical moment I'd waited for?  My hair plastered to my face with sweat, sheer exhaustion taking over, her screaming about the fact that she was pushed out of her home.  Then, she stopped crying, and she opened her eyes.  She looked right at me and made these cute little sounds.  I played with her fingers and whispered, "You have long fingers like mommy."  She just stared back at me, knowing exactly who I was.  And I stared back at her, smiling, knowing exactly who I was too. I was her mommy. 

     With our son, he actually tried to arrive seven weeks too early.  I remember my OB saying, "You're in preterm labor, you need to go over to the hospital right now because this little guy can't arrive this early but he sure is trying."  I was scared, so scared.  My husband met me at the doctor's office and we sat in the waiting room while the nurses got my paperwork ready.  I was so silent, worrying, wondering, and he looked over at me, grabbed my hand and said, "He'll be alright."  I tried to hold in my emotions but being pregnant and frightened, that wasn't going to happen.  I started sobbing and apologizing.  My husband put his arms around me and just held me.  He said, "He's just in a hurry to meet his mommy."  That of course made me laugh and I started calming down.  Li'l B decided to stay put until one or two weeks before his due date.  (They kept changing it on me for crying out loud.)  Then, his shoulders became lodged making his birth a little more difficult.  After he was born, I was holding him in our room.  When he opened his eyes to look at me, I smiled and remember saying, "Well to be in such a hurry, you sure took your time getting out, little man."  After he was born, I felt complete, as if our little family was whole. 

     Mothers are born when their children are.  I think with each child, we grow a little more.  Everyday we wonder if we're getting it right; and we're really just winging a lot of it, but I think a lot of us are following our own mother's/parent's/caregiver's examples.  (I know I am.)  Giving love, encouragement, discipline when needed, and lots of hugs and kisses.  These are the little people we created.  They watch us and how we deal with life.  We can't scream at things not going our way and then wonder why they do the same thing, or get upset when they do.  They are little people just trying to figure this crazy world out.  And we are big people, also still trying to figure this crazy world out and the world of Parenthood.  I always say about my children, "From a dream, a reality."  And I couldn't feel more happy and blessed to have my dream come true. Yes, they may drive me to the brink of insanity some days, but I also smile a lot, watching them discover, grow, knowing I wouldn't have it any other way.  They are my babies and I am their mother.

    Have a wonderful Mother's Day fellow mommies.  Now go hug those babies!


                                                             

    

Letting Go

 "A mother holds her childrens' hands for a while, but their hearts forever." 

     Um, in regards to the whole "hand holding for a while" meaning a short time, apparently not me and not if we're at the pool.  Sorry, but I didn't get that memo.  And especially if one of those children is not even two-years old and is already a self-proclaimed "Evil Kenevil".  I thought I was a hovering momma at the playground, well, you ain't seen nothing if we're at the pool.  I actually had a man laugh at me because I couldn't let go of my son at one point, although Li'l B was pushing me away and saying, "Let go, mommy!", but we'll get to that in a moment. 

     The kiddies wanted to go to our local YMCA to go swimming, and my hubby and I thought that this was an excellent way to wear them out before naps, er, I mean a very good family outing, making special memories and all that.  We get there, get everyone stripped down to their bathing suits in the family changing room and proceed to the pool.  Miss G of course runs into the shallow end and by shallow, I mean to her knees..  (I know this child will not do anything that would make her head or hair even touch the water, so I watch her while trying to hold Li'l B's hand to guide him slowly into the water.  He is not even two, so his balance is not that of a trapeze walker.  Naturally, or should I say, instinctively, he says, "No, mommy," as he pushes my hand away.  Lately, I've become so accustomed to this gesture that the tears have finally ceased to exist.  I say, "Okay," and put my hands up in front of me in a "I surrender" gesture and he proceeds to walk out into the water.  Now, my hubby has been taking him for swim lessons, or them just playing in the water, for a little while now while I watch our daughter at ballet class, so he is in the know of what Li'l B is capable of handling, aquatics-wise.  I am still right behind Li'l B in case he falls.  My stomach at this point has moved to my throat with every little misstep.  I look over at my hubby and say, "Maybe we should get him one of the life jackets to wear, you know, in case he slips or something."  My husband laughs and says, "Seriously?  The water is to his shins, he's fine.  We do this all the time in his lessons.  You need to calm down a little bit."  He was lucky that all he got was a glare for that. 

     We proceed to where it is a little deeper, making our way to a water playground where they can slide, play under the shooting water, etc.  *Stomach still in throat as the water has now gone over his trunks* He's on a mission though, sure to get out to the stairs that lead up to a *gulp* water slide.  This water slide is not very extravagant, but to a mommy of a little guy, it looks like something at an actual water park.  Li'l B proceeds to climb the stairs, me right beside him, fighting with him to hold my hand.  Naturally, he refuses.  And, I'm the only parent going up with her small child.  I really couldn't have given two flying, well, you know how that phrase turns out.  Anywho, he makes it to the top only to then be overtaken by the stage fright.  *Mommy exhales and does a happy dance internally*  Then his father at the bottom yells, "Come on, bud!  You can do it!"  Again, he got a glare.  So Li'l B decides, "Yes, I'm going to do this."  He sits down and I'm holding onto his arm.  He says, "Let go, mommy."  And I reply, "Honey, mommy can't."  This kid literally went down almost half the slide with me clinging to his arm until he got to a point where I couldn't reach without going down the slide with him....and I let go.  I think my heart stopped while watching him slide down by himself, imagining him toppling backwards and the water that pools at the bottom covering him like a blanket, him not knowing how to hold his breath underwater...I have an overactive imagination as if you couldn't tell by now.  Instead, he sat the whole way down, squealing, his daddy catching him at the bottom, and he turned to me and yelled proudly, "Mommy!! Again!"  *Stomach, back up  into my throat.*

     See, as parents, we always see our children as babies, helpless without us, not knowing what to do in life without our guidance or protection.  (And mine are only toddlers, this is magnified I'm sure for those with older children.)  "They need me, I must protect them, what if they get hurt, what if they don't know what to do?"  I guarantee all these question cross my mind daily, and yes, sometimes I think, "Maybe extremely nervous Nellie's are not meant to have children, some days, it's torture!"  But I have to realize that if I hover over them and make their decisions or hold them back from exploring, they're not going to experience beautiful things in life.  Yes, they may even fall *gasp* and get hurt, but that's also an experience and a learning opportunity that they must go through.  I can protect them for so long, but I must stop overprotecting.  And for the record, mom or dad, if you're reading this, I totally get what you went through now, and I have nothing but the up most love and respect for you.  (Quit grinning.) 

     My favorite part of today was when I let go.  Because the utter joy and excitement that I saw flash across my little man's face, well, you couldn't have put a price on it.  He was so proud. And if I had held on, it never would have been. 
    

The Toddler and the Tough Stuff

     How do you describe to a toddler just how unfair life can be?  What words would you choose to use?  What tone of voice?  One big question I face, and I'm sure other parents/caregivers do also is, do I really want them to know right now?  Won't they learn soon enough, and when do we subject them to the wicked ways of life; that sadly not everyday is filled with sunshine and lollipops?  Should I prepare my toddlers before they start school or go over it with them the night before?  *Insert scream here* In their minds, everything is right and fair in their little worlds, and I must admit, I'm jealous of their naivety.  I am aware of children out there affected by disease and my heart aches for them and their families, to have to go through that hell but also have to come up with words and an explanation for a child that does not understand what is happening to them or more importantly, why. This can go for any "unpleasant" circumstances in life, really.  My daughter, by asking a simple question about her pop-pop (who was diagnosed with ALS in 2005), diverted me from "what will I say", to "what do I say".  I was not prepared for her statement that she made to me, and in a quick instant, I had to decide what to do about my toddler, and the tough stuff. (I will admit now that, at the end of our discussion, I was smiling and laughing and filled with the most peaceful feeling, which I haven't felt in a long time when discussing my dad's illness to anyone.)  Put a check in the "Win" column...this time. 

     As we traveled back from the store, my daughter told me out of the blue, "Mommy, I can't wait for when pop-pop is not in his wheelchair anymore."  I was actually shocked by her exclamation and slowly responded, "Oh, honey, pop-pop will always be in a wheelchair."  She asked me why and I thought very hard about how to describe his illness to a 3-year old.  She tries so hard to understand, but I know she can't grasp it, heck, sometimes I don't even grasp it.  She said, "I wish he could fly a kite with me like my other pop-pop and build snowmen and go sledding and go swimming.  Will he be able to when he's not sick anymore?"  This is when I had to take a moment to regain my composure, and also think of what to say to her.  So, instead of talking about the "right now" or the "what may happen", I decided to tell her all about how pop-pop used to be. 

     I started off by telling her that pop-pop used to lift mommy and mommy's brothers real high as we hung from his arms.  To this she said, "Mommy, pop-pop is so strong!"  I smiled and said, "Yes, honey, he is."  Then I told her how pop-pop used to go swimming with mommy and how he dove off of the high dive, barely making a splash when he entered the water.  She said, "So he put his face in the water? I can't do that."  I laughed and answered, "Yes, and he would swim under the water with his eyes open and grab mommy's legs!"  She giggled and for the first time I heard her say, "I want to learn to swim underwater."  I smiled and proceeded to tell her that pop-pop was mommy's soccer coach and how we would go down to our local park and he would practice with me so I could get better.  She of course said, "I want to play soccer like you, mommy!"  (I swelled with pride at that a little.) I told her how pop-pop used to water ski, (which she didn't understand), how we went camping, how pop-pop rode his bike all the time, and how he made mommy laugh a lot.  She was quiet for a while and I wondered if what I had said made any sense to her, when she said, "I wish pop-pop could do all that with me."  At that, my tears broke free and I quickly wiped them away, knowing that he wished he could too. And then she started talking about something totally unrelated, Strawberry Shortcake or something, and I knew her inquisition was over. 

     The thing is, toddlers do not understand the injustice or evil happening in our world, and why would they?  They are the essence of purity and goodness.  So, I decided that instead of trying to explain a situation to her that is negative, I would take her back to when things were good and pure in my eyes.  She will no doubt, no matter how hard I attempt to reflect it, experience pain and hurt and see just how cruel life can be.  But not today, or as long as I can prevent it.  Today, she will hear of happiness and goodness.  And I will be the same way with my son.  I want them to promote peace and understanding throughout their lives, and although they will see or be affected by things in this world that they shouldn't have to, I want them to take in the knowledge that they do not have to give in to the unpleasantness; but they can be aware of it, yet decide to see the positive and be the positive, whether it be looking ahead, or in some cases, glancing back.

                                                      Miss G with her Pop-pop  June 2010




    

    

    

Down to One Fish

     It's funny, when you have two children, four, or eight, when one goes to stay with Grandma and Grandpa (or anyone really), it feels like you've suddenly been given a vacation.  You are down one child, time to par-tay!  It doesn't seem like anything should change because you still have the remaining, or in my case the one, to deal with, but it certainly does change your days.  One less kiddy to strap into their car seat, one less kiddy to take out of their car seat, one less to haul into the grocery store, one less to chase in the store, one less to argue with, well, you get the drift.  Don't get me wrong, I miss my absent child terribly when they are not with me, but I love that I can give the existing child more attention that they've been sharing with their sibling.  (And, of course, errands are a tad quicker. Score!)  The negative- it also makes you realize just how much you can actually get done around the house when the younger child has the older one to play with.  And if that child is removed from the equation, all that's left is you. Oh, no. *slowly removes party hat*

     My daughter has gone to stay with her Memaw and Pop-pop for the week so that leaves just me and her little brother, getting to have one-on-one time to throw (or "frow" in Li'l B's terms) his basketball back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, honestly this could go on all night, and no, I am not exaggerating.  It gives us extra time to play cars and bang on instruments and play cars and chase each other around the house and play cars and shoot his basketball and play cars and wrestle which is really him just choking me...did I mention play cars?  Good, I thought maybe I forgot that activity.  It also gives me a chance to realize just how much I depend on his big sister to help me out.  She is a fellow kiddy so she has relatively the same amount of energy as he does.  I am an adult.  I do not possess this much energy anymore.  After a few activities I'm ready for a break, whereas he is rip-roaring to go and get into something else.  I think his new favorite game to play with me is, "Mommy, wake up!"  This little bugger won't even let me rest my eyes for crying out loud!  And try to sneak into the kitchen to make dinner?  Ha!  Forget that, Jack.  He comes running in yelling, "Mommy, where are you?! Play!" And off he runs back into the living room expecting me to follow. 

      Our daughter has become such the helper with her little brother and I realize this even more when she's not around.  I will tell her, "Now, mommy needs to call *insert who I need to call* and I need it to be quiet, can you play blocks with your brother?"  And she does.  I'll even hear her trying to quiet him down if he squeals or yells, telling him, "Brover, shhh, mommy is on the phone so we need to be quiet."  This just truly amazes me to no end.  So when she's gone and I try to make a phone call, my son is staring at me, screaming "Mommy" over and over to the point where I hang up before anyone answers.  And Heaven help me if they already have and I have to apologize repeatedly. So. Embarrassing. 

     Now this all may be very different for those who have more than two children so when one is gone, you are still left with playmates for the remaining kiddos.  This is when I wish we had stuck with our plan of having three, but after two, I threw in the towel. (But that's for a different blog.)  On days where I am my son's sole companion, I could kick myself at times.  Hard.  Oh wait, he does that for me.  He's such a sweetheart. So this week, I get to spend some quality time with my little man, the house gets to be neglected, the bills will be paid at night after he is in bed, we will pretend that there are no such things as phones and we will play.  We will run.  We will throw the ball back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. Now, I feel like I'm forgetting something. Oh yes, we will play cars, multiplied by 1000.  And you know what?  I will most certainly enjoy every minute of it.  Until I get to pass out onto our bed from exhaustion.  Well, bring it on little man. Bring. It. On.

Wait, how many days until Miss G comes home?!

War and Peace

     There is absolutely no better sound than the sound of your kiddies getting along, am I right?  It's as if the Heavens have opened up and shined a bright, glowing beam down upon your family while the angels sing the most beautiful rendition of "Hallelujah" that your ears have ever had the pleasure of hearing.  But we all know this peace cannot last, oh no, no, no.  That would be unheard of.  And it's as if these tiny creatures know it!  I think they feel our sense of relaxation or see our faces beaming with pride and amazement.  I truly believe my kiddies see and sense all of this and "regroup" behind the couch to have a Meeting of the Minds.  That is where they decide that they have played nice long enough, mommy's defenses are down, and they are planning the moment to strike.  Clever little devils.

     I love watching my daughter and son play together in perfect harmony.  I could watch them all day, if only the peace lasted that long, and sadly, it only lasts about the lifespan of a fruit fly.  When they ARE playing nicely together, it is music to my ears.  One game they love to play is "Chase".  Of course my daughter absolutely loves this game because she gets to boss her little brother around and he is more than happy to oblige, which a lot of the time is how most of their games go.  The other day she would run into the kitchen, yell for him to run in there, and as he ran in, she ran out.  This produced high octaves of giddy screams and they did this, back and forth from kitchen to living room, for maybe 10 minutes.  (Which is quite a while in Toddler Time.)  I sat back and peacefully watched them entertain themselves until my son grabbed a ball he found in the living room and his attention quickly went from "Chase" to "Throw".  My daughter wasn't having any of that...cue the War of the Toddlers.  I hear her scream at him as she slaps the ball out of his hands, hurling him into an epic meltdown.  He's screaming, trying to get his ball back as I walk in since I know this will not end peacefully without a mediator.  I tell her to give him the ball back which throws her into an hour-long (not really, but it sure did seem like it to me) speech about how he is not doing what she says and he is SUPPOSED to always listen to her but he is NOT and she is MAD.  I tell her to not be so bossy which then ignites her meltdown of astronomical proportions.  As she's crying, he walks up to her and hands her his ball, then says, "Sorry, sissy," and gives her a hug.  I stand there, absolutely speechless.  WTH just happened here?! 

     I can't help but play the song "Imagine" by John Lennon in my head to drown out the screams and wailing of my two perfect angels when they are in the throes of their wars.  I picture them fighting in slow motion with the song playing in the background, horrible, I know. I also like to rewind my memory back to when they were laughing and delightfully squealing with each other not just 5 seconds ago.  I have come to discover that a toddler's will is not just extremely strong, it is like, survive an Apocalypse strong.  My husband and I laugh with each other and blame the other one for both of the childrens' inherited "hard-headedness", but in a way it makes us nervous, because we now know just what we're up against. 

     When our daughter was born, I immediately knew that I didn't want her to be an only child.  I went through that having half-brothers and let me tell you, I created quite the imagination for myself, but it was lonely most of the time.  Now, on days of constant war, I ask my husband as soon as he walks through the door, "Just whose idea was it anyway to have more than ONE child?!"  I know they truly love each other; if our son is getting reprimanded for doing something wrong and starts crying, his big sister is right there hugging him and doing things to make him laugh.  If she hurts herself and is crying, her little brother is there, head to one side looking at her and asking, "Sissy, okay?"  And he is also quick to wrap his arms around her to provide comfort if she gets into trouble.  And then, in the next second, he might grab a toy of hers and she yanks it right out of his hands, he starts screaming, hits her, and then she starts screaming and hits him back, thus initiating yet another war all over again.  But no one on the outside better mess with either, or they will feel the wrath of the other sibling; for it is the unspoken agreement of brothers and sisters.

     Fight like cats and dogs, yet always have each others' backs.  War and Peace.  It's an art, really.  And they are mastering it VERY well already.