Having not been blessed, (I use that term so loosely!! 😉 ), with any siblings myself, my children make me question the same thing almost daily; are they supposed to fight this much?
There was always just me growing up, and because we lived in really isolated places in the country, I was often quite lonely as a child. I would escape into books, adventuring off and making new friends in the characters on the pages. A good book could provide me with the company I needed and I would be bereft when the story drew to an end.
Look. At. Those. Faces!!! 😂😂😂😂 Their mean Mummy dragged them off the campsite, (where they were happily playing with their new found friends), to go and explore the gorgeous Cotswold village of Minchinhampton and worst of all, made them look at some culture! Never mind that it was only about an hour and most of that was spent eating an icecream, (them!) and buying some cake, (me!) from the looks of them you would think it was the worst day of their lives! 😂 I’ve been a little quiet recently. I’ve been trying to sort our house out, pulled all the kitchen cupboard contents out over the weekend and am still trying to tidy back up! 🙈 Do you ever wish you’d never started something?! 😂 I’ve also been battling migraines again. Had to get prescription meds again for the first time in years. 😢 Very frustrating! #pinklinker
Because of this loneliness, I was determined about one thing, when I had children, I would not just have one. I imagined that they would be the best of friends, company for each other and would take joy in every minute spent together.
What an idiot I was!
I had a horrendously traumatic experience with my daughter’s birth. And I told my husband that I could never go through that again. He was sad but had been present through it all and so understood my fears and accepted my wishes.
As time went on though, Mother Nature played her devious tricks and surprise surprise, my longing for another baby was strong enough to overtake my fear at another labour. I imagined her with a sibling, a playmate, and before she was 18 months old, I was pregnant again.
I was really sick for the first few months. She would stand at the toilet door sobbing as I tried to wave an arm comfortingly at her while I dry heaved over and over into the toilet. And the exhaustion, I was done in by 4pm and it was all I could do to switch cbeebies on and heat up a ready meal for her! It was so hard not being able to be the Mum I had been to her.
I had a text book labour with my son, it started in the evening, my Mum came over and I was in the birth centre by the time she awoke in the morning. She came to meet her little brother in the hospital and was not very impressed. We had to stay in overnight and the next day, we took him home and gave her the present ‘from him’. It was a little boy doll all of her own. She threw it at him. A 2 day old new born and the fighting had started already!
Whenever they had a bath, she would pull his little feet, making him slide under the water from his chair. We were always present of course, and no harm ever came to him….but the intent was definitely there! We would always say to her, one day, he might be stronger then you, then you might regret treating him like this.
Well, that day came about a year or so ago. He now fights back, and he can take much more and give it back with gusto, which leaves her squealing! If I had a pound for every time I heard ‘Muuuuuuuuum!’ And then a whole rant about what grievance the other has commited, I would be writing this from my beach house in the Bahamas!
They fight about errythang! Who sits where, who has which plate, who started it! It’s endless! And they will both set out to wind each other up. It will be all lovely and calm and then one will just hover a finger in the other’s face and it will blow up again!
Heaven forbid you praise one of them for something and not the other. Even if it’s something the other one wasn’t even present for! ‘Am I not good at ……… then? Huh?!’ And it’s pointless trying to reason with them that they weren’t even present for whatever event it was! The diva strops from them both tells me that I’m going to be spending a lot of my time in the theatre watching my little darlings on stage because they are good! There are even real tears produced by the bucketful if required!
They clearly love each other to bits underneath it all and their bond is strong in a; ‘I can beat him but just you lay a finger on him and see what happens!’ sort of way and when things are good, it’s wonderful. As you can see from the photos above, they really do have their lovely moments and no matter how big the fight, when they are united in winding Mummy up or in their displeasure at having to leave the fun campsite there is no tighter unit! 😀
So although the Summer holidays have been tough, as they readjusted to each other’s company, actually, they do love each other, and although the fighting has been driving me demented, as has the silly behaviour that replaces the fighting sometimes, I’m very glad they have each other.
Even if it’s meant double trouble a lot of the time!