Sibling Rivalry

If given my 'druthers, I would choose to wake up every hour with a newborn for nighttime feedings, change 100 poopy diapers in a row, or soothe a teething toddler rather than spend one more day listening to my girls fight.

Oh my goodness they fight all the time. Any seemingly benign interaction is perfect inspiration for a good old bickering around here. For example:

• Who gets cereal first, or who gets more milk, or a bigger spoon, or the orange bowl, or the white bowl with orange flowers.
• Who gets a larger share of the warm air from the space heater now that the mornings are downright chilly in our old kitchen.
• Who does or does not look "beautiful" in her chosen outfit for school.
• Who climbs in the car first.
• Who has the 'tire swing' technique mastered. 
• How many times we listen to Bon Iver's 'Skinny Love' (Mae's pick) versus Bela's 'When you say nothing at all' (Allison Krauss). I'm so with Mae on this one, but I try not to take sides. At least once a trip Bela does request some Bruce Springsteen, which makes me mildly happier. And it's always a good day when she brings out the Ralph Stanley requests.
• Snotty looks, annoying noises, accidental physical contact, toys, blankets, the pronunciation of certain, more difficult words (three = thu-ree, not free), whose drawing is more realistic, whose coloring book that cute fairy picture was torn from and therefore to whom it belongs, whose chair is scooted closer to the dinner table, and who got more bedtime song action during the last three months combined.

I wish I were exaggerating. My husband is a saint. He completely tunes this all out, leaving me to simmer in a corner until I almost explode. "Why are you fighting over such silly things? Don't you know this is your sister and you will never have another one and you HAVE TO LOVE EACH OTHER NO MATTER WHAT??????!!!!!" Oh yes, I give them the sisterly love lecture. That always works.

Only, the sad thing is that it NEVER works, and that I too must find the strength to ignore this tendency for sibling rivalry, stepping in only to mediate the more egregious offenses. But this has been, hands down, the most difficult phase so far in my parenting. Remember the days when they cried because they were hungry? Wet? Tired? I could do that. I knew how to step in and make them happy. Stick a breast in their mouths, change them, rock them to sleep. I can handle concrete distress.

I suppose the one bright side in all of this is that when they are not fighting, when they think no one is watching, when they leave their rivalry behind - I sometimes witness the most loving, touching moments any mother could ever witness. True, sisterly love. Bela sometimes takes care of  Mae as only a big sister can, and I guess that, if anything, makes up for the hours and hours of bickering torture.

Oregon coast

Arkansas trip

Humboldt Park