Raising Siblings Who Love and Like Each Other

Life is Good: our kids love each other!

Month of Gratitude: Day One

Last week, the big kid had a few days off of school because of parent-teacher conferences. (Our conference went very well, thanks for asking!) Our little one still had his morning playroom, though. It was nice to get to spend some dedicated alone time with the big kid. We made a "lair" for ninja turtles out of recycled yogurt containers, paint stirrers, legos, and painter's tape. The big kid loved it. And I loved being with him.

The morning whizzed by and soon, we were off to pick up little brother. I knew that the little one would love this weekly playroom when I signed him up. He loves other kids. Truly, "Social" should be his middle name. Each week, his gate picks up as we get closer to the playroom door. He whips off his jacket and raises his arms for one of the teachers to pick him up and over the Dutch door. If I am lucky, I'll hear the back of his blonde head yell, "Bye, mommy!" as he runs off to greet the other two-year olds. Equally, when I pick him up, he looks up and smiles, says, "Hi, mama!" and keeps on playing. With some coaxing by his teacher, he makes his way over and we leave to go home.

Grant and I usually have a good laugh later that evening as I recall it all to him. Truly, we are so grateful that both of our kids feel confident and comfortable away from us. I attribute a little bit of it to nurture and a little bit of it to nature. Both of our kids lean a bit more toward the extrovert side of things. (They did spend ten months with me in the womb, after all!) And so I think they naturally like to be around other people and enjoy that kind of energy. However, we have done our best to lay a foundation of stability in our family so that our children feel safe and secure. I think that when kids feel confident and stable in their own family and home life, they are able to carry that with them out into the world.

Of course, there is more to it than that. Knowing your individual child's needs are important. Paying attention to transitions is essential. And a million other variables and individualities.

So, I am usually "chopped liver" at playroom pick up. And I'm okay with that. I give it a little chuckle and say a little prayer of thanks that I don't have to deal with the pain of walking away from a child crying for me, shrieking with fear, screaming with abandonment. I don't know how I would manage that. Truly.

Imagine my surprise when the big kid and I walked into the playroom and little brother looked up, jumped up, and raced over to us yelling the big kid's name. Really? So that's what it takes to get you excited about leaving playroom? Not me, not the one who cradled you in my belly for ten months, giving up caffeine and sushi (painful!). Not me, the one who walked around like a zombie for months and months so that you could have a full belly at all hours of the night and early morning. Not me, whose every thought and breath is yours, whose heart beats for you. (Okay, I'll admit that last part was a bit dramatic. There are just things we cannot deny about ourselves. I have to indulge this part of me. Sometimes it comes out in gestures, most often it appears as words, inflection, and volume. And occasionally, I allow it to peek out in my writing. I hope it gave you a chuckle!)

Truth is, as we drove home, I grinned from ear to ear. Our children love each other. They really love each other! And I am grateful for it. The little one soaks up every word and gesture of his older brother. He's not so much a shadow as his other half. They are so often side by side, hand in hand. Hugging, snuggling, tickling. Smiles and giggles abound. And the big kid adores his little brother, too. Moments away from each other are celebrated with smiles and squeezes. The big kid finds such entertainment in his little brother's latest accomplishments and words, as we all do. I love the way his voice changes when he tries to teach the little one how to play something. Sweetness drips like honey.

I was quickly skimming my pinterest home page a couple of days ago when I noticed someone had pinned this post about how to raise kids who get along well together. It's a short list. And I agree with the first bullet point: family time. There is no way your kids will grow up feeling truly bonded unless you bond as a family and make spending time together a priority. How you spend that time is as unique as your own family. It's just about the togetherness. And of course, (another bullet point) modeling respect. This seems like such a given. And yet, in our fast-paced, need-it-now, everything at your fingertips, overly-connected society, I think we often short cut with each other like we zip through email. If we take the time to sit down and listen, give uninterrupted eye contact, and see and treat our children as small people, not babies or kids, they will treat each other the same way (and us, too!).

Since we have a two-year old, I am not able to leave my kids to their own devices when it comes to disagreements. I often have to talk through things with them. I may have to try to explain why little brother might have committed a certain "crime". I might have to give the words to little brother to help him express that he wants his brother to share or he wants to join in on the fun. But soon, I will begin to try what the mama from the post suggests---letting the kids work through their own disputes, limiting moderation to necessity. It's a slippery slope, though, I think. Mishandled disputes can lead to resentment, so I will keep my eyes and ears open.

I don't think that arguing and fighting has to be a normal part of growing up in a family. I don't think that pushing & taking and yelling & stealing has to be part of the process. Maybe I am naive, maybe it is because there was such a gap in age between my brother & sister and me. Maybe I will change my view in ten years. But for now, my aim and goal is to raise children who can talk through disputes and disappointments. Kids who feel like teammates not opponents. Siblings who rally around each other, not battle against each other. 

I've never sat down and made a list of my goals as a mother. I've certainly thought about what is important to me, though. To be sure, family is everything. Family comes first. Family is more important than any thing or any event. And we cast our net wide when we refer to family. It includes second and third cousins and Godparents and friends who are so loving and supportive that they might as well be "blood". We are grateful for each and every one of them.

My children loving each other and liking each other is near the top of my never recorded list. I want them to grow up enjoying each other, depending on each other, trusting each other. I want them to be more than siblings, I want them to be friends. I want them to be bonded. Truly bonded. I want them to be something to each other that no one else in this world can be to them. And I know that sometimes this will be easy to encourage and that maybe some day, it might need more thought and intention to enable. My hope and prayer is that it will always be easy and that the simplicity comes out of the environment of our family. That the love we show and the home life that we live will breed nothing but love, support, and a true friendship. I hope they can always have enough in common to be able to relate to each other and enough differences not to feel competitive or compared. I hope they will celebrate each others' triumphs and hold each other up when they don't.

So how do you raise siblings who truly like and love each other? The answer is the same for just about every other parenting question, don't you think? You are the example. You show your best self. You put your best foot forward. You be the person who you want your child to be. And when you fail, when you make a mistake, when you have a bad day, you admit it. And then you show your children how to apologize or how to forgive. How to get down on your knees and ask God to help you make it right again. And how to make it a better day tomorrow.

We can't deny it. Our children are a product of their home life. They are a walking, talking reflection of who they spend most of their time with. Us. So with prayer, and intention, love, enthusiasm (and lots of caffeine!), today, I will give them my best, my all.  And the reflection I hope to see is the two of them hugging, giggling, smiling...together.

 

Happier at Home

Life is Good: everything is a phase

I recently started reading a book called, "Happier at Home" by Gretchen Rubin. I'm not sure how I happened upon the book. I may have just liked the title. Or the cover. Yes, I judge books by their covers. There, I said it. Now you know my one flaw. ; )

I've had the book for about nine months, just sitting there, begging to be opened. I ignored it for other books which are in a rotation depending on my mood, level of interest, amount of time I can devote to reading (or rather, smidgen of time) and most importantly, how much sleep I have had (brain capacity for reading comprehension).

I don't subscribe to making new year's resolutions, however, I do think the beginning of the year (as well as my birthday) is a good time to look back and look forward and evaluate what's working and what isn't. I committed to reading more this year. I was still nursing this time last year. (Sorry for the TMI.) The first 18 months with a child allow very little time for anything else but raising them and tending to their every breath and need and when there was time for "anything else", it never meant books for me. So reading more became my non-resolution resolution. I've only actually completed one book so far, if that tells you anything about the aforementioned anything else time. Or my brain capacity and attention span. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Well, I have started and stopped and started this book again and who knows when I will finish it, so don't hold you breath for a review! It seems like a perfectly sweet little book. It's easy to read and I was thinking it was nice and kind of benign when...the author wrote the words that I had been trying to articulate for the past five years. "The days are long, but the years are short."

Yes! Yes! That's exactly it. Reading those words felt like someone had unzipped my heart, held it in their hands, and read it like a piece of poetry--slowly and intentionally. Indeed, the days are long, but the years are short. This sums up my assessment of parenthood. At least for the phase we are in with a toddler and a kindergartener.

Some days, especially those days in the first 3 months of life or the first year of your child's life seem so.very.long. Mostly because the nights are so short! Getting up multiple times for nursing...oh, the toils of interrupted sleep. Sleep deprivation aside, those days can also be long with snuggles and smiles and my favorite...laughter. I remember wishing away the first three months of our oldest's life. It was so difficult to go from my fast-paced job where my measure of success was how many millions of people bought a product that I created the TV spot for to how often and for how long my child nursed. Admittedly, I felt like a milk machine. And the pain of it all! Excruciating! (Fortunately it doesn't last forever!) I was also so very anxious for our child to "communicate" with us...smiles, rolling over, gurgled replies. To be sure, I loved every minute of being a mommy from the time the stick showed a plus sign. But I wasn't always in the moment those first few months of the big kid's life. Often those first couple of months, I was thinking forward and looking ahead and excited about or anxious for the next big (or better) thing instead of basking in the current one. And why not? It's the only thing I've ever known. I've always been a planner. And my job required a delicate balance of getting today's work done while keeping one eye on what was due next week. But then I discovered how time begins to race once you enter parenthood. It's as if the clock gets reset to double time but nobody tells you and then all of a sudden, a year has passed. And another has whizzed by. And another. Again, the days are long, but the years are short.

Our big kid was three years old when I had another chance to mother a newborn. This time, I knew how fast those first moments go by. I knew that everything is a phase...even the good stuff. So I vowed to savor the moments. I knew that he would eventually sleep longer at night and nurse less often in general. I knew that the sleep deprivation and interrupted sleep was (relatively) short. I also knew that he would only be that tiny--so very, very tiny--for a fleeting instant. Perspective. Attitude. It really changes, or at least affects, everything.

The other day, my dad suggested that Grant and I might like to go to Hawaii for a week, just the two of us. He and my mom (emphasis on "my mom"!) could take care of our little boys and we could have a truly relaxing vacation. It was a generous, loving thought and gesture. And the idea, in my head, of sleeping in and lying on the beach UNINTERRUPTED for an entire morning, even an entire day (WHAT?) sounds amazing! In my head, it does. But honestly, right now, we (yes, I am speaking for my husband and me) couldn't imagine being in Hawaii without our kiddos. We were married several years before we had a child. We traveled, we stayed out late and slept in, we watched movies. We went to quiet restaurants where everyone whispered and ordered in a different language. We had space in the closets and on the bookshelves. We read books and listened to music without interruption. And we felt like something was missing. And it was.

Nothing is missing now. Our lives are full and spilling over. We know that this is a wonderfully special time. We. are. blessed. And after five+ years of parenthood, we know that five+ years goes by in a flash and that there will be a day and time when we will sleep in again, we will watch more movies, and even vacation alone. Sure, I occasionally have a girls' night out and my hubs will go to a ball game with a friend. And of course, there are date nights (not enough of them!) because that is important to a marriage. But for now, we love being together as a family more than anything else. We like each other. And we like being together. I am grateful for that. I acknowledge how fortunate I am that my husband doesn't have hobbies or interests that are self-centered or take him away from our family time. I acknowledge how fortunate we are that neither one of us has to work evenings or weekends away from home. And for now, things like being on a board of directors or volunteering for a fundraiser gala or sitting on a committee for this or that will just have to wait. All of those things and more will still be there for us in five or ten years. Or twenty years. And after that, too.

We know that these precious little people will be precious big people in the blink of an eye. So we willingly will trade lying on a beach uninterrupted for building sand castles and jumping in and out of waves no less than one thousand and fifteen times. Because the days are long, but they are filled with love and wide eyes and, did I mention, laughter? And the years are short, so very, very short, as we have discovered.