Sometimes for me, the worst part of parenting is all the repressed memories that come back from my own childhood when I witness our two sons fight in the same way my brother and I did. I hope that the frustration of a 2-year-old will be relieved soon when he can talk more and they work out they can be best friends all the time.
My brother is exactly four year and eight months older than me. So when I was born he was that very age. On my first birthday he was five years and eight months old. On my fifth birthday he was nine years and eight months old. We can almost call that 10-years-old. I might do it for the point of this blog.
I think about what our eldest at four years, eight months, and 23 days is in to. He is 23 days older than the exact age my brother was the day I was born. As a one day old I can’t remember being into much. I mean I liked having a feed from my mum. I liked being held by my dad. I liked sleeping most of the day. Our son, as of at least a year ago didn’t like having day sleeps. He loves being hugged by dad, but not 24 hours a day. And it has been a while since he was fed from his mothers breast. So if we had a baby 23 days ago, right now there would be little shared interest between our first born and the second.
Two years, eight months and ten days after the birth of our first child, son number two entered the world to shake things up for us. Actually, he shook things up for his brother more than he did us. I mean, two years, eight months and ten days earlier my wife and I had our world turned upside-down, but the second time around, we were ready for it. But can an older sibling really be ready for the younger one coming in and ruining what they had going on with the parents?
I feel that because our boys are so much closer in age than my brother and I are, they will get along better than we did as kids. Already they interact on much the same level with the younger one, who at two years and two weeks old is stepping up to his brother’s level of playing, but at four years, eight months and 23 days, the older one is still young enough to enjoy preschool toys, playing and television shows.
But boys being boys, or siblings being siblings to be non-gender specific, it is inevitable that they will come to blows every know and then. Tonight in the bath they had three run ins. When the biggest punch-up took place I sent one to one end of the bath and the other to the other end. Then I left the room to get them both face washers to get them washed up and out of the bath. When I came back in they were laughing and giggling like nothing had happened. I’m pretty sure one of them bought the other one a beer and they already knocked the head off of that instead. I was gone for five seconds. Count them 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… That’s as long as I was out of the room and World War Three had turned into a “love-in,” just without the psychedelic drugs.
So how do we stop the boys from fighting? I don’t know if we ever will have perfect harmony in this household while two feral children run rampant within these walls. All we can do is encourage them to get along, hope that they have joint interests, and if all else fails, move to a bigger house where one can have the west wing while the other has the east. But they’ll probably fight over that…
Do your kids fight? How do you stop your children’s battle from turning into a full fledge war?