Sibling Revelry

I'm so glad my kids have siblings.

When I was a kid, I was not always grateful for my younger brothers and sister, as I'm sure you will be shocked to discover... I remember the envy I had for my cousin, who is so much younger than her older sisters that she was basically an only child for much of her life. But then she would come stay with us for a summer week or two, and she would go on and on about how much she wished she had siblings close to her age! I was utterly incredulous of this claim. Couldn't she herself see what it was like? The endless amount of sharing, the people taking your stuff without asking, the no-holds-barred fighting (my brother chased me with a fork once), the slightly-less-than lifestyle you lived because your parents couldn't afford to take all four kids to Disneyland??

It's true that once I finally moved out of my parents' house (and matured considerably), I began to change my mind about my siblings - to like them, even. In fact, now I often wish we lived a little closer again... (just not in the same room). But as a kid, it was just a different story.

This summer, my kids have really learned what it's like to have siblings. The Dynamic of Three is in full force: Luke, having fully assumed the role of Person In Charge Of Telling Everyone Else What To Do, is growing in physical strength and fueled by an unhealthy amount of karate training; Sarah, luxuriating again in the rights to a room of her own (which her mother has decorated by overindulging in all the remnants of her own most decadent childhood dreams), is "small but fierce" and learning to rule by flying under the radar of her elder sibling; and Andrew is speeding out of toddlerhood with all the force of a short atomic bomb.

You can imagine the results.

But, lucky for them, they have a very "hands off" mom when it comes to sibling relationships, and they have learned much from the Laws of Nature. (For instance, when Little Brother is having fun with Big Sister in a game a chase-you-with-a-Nerf-gun, throwing said gun off the balcony and aimed at Sister's forehead is a technique that will surely end the fun for the day. And possibly earn Big Sister and Mommy a girls' night out.)

Before you dial CPS, rest assured that the physical violence has remained at a minimum for the most part, and instead, like a tiny little body of Congress, these three are developing techniques for exploiting each other's strengths and weaknesses in such a way as to gain the most joy and entertainment for the least amount of Time Out. Sarah has learned that Andrew will play almost anything with her as long as she plays with him, so she has a constant partner for dress-up and Barbies and "family" and tea parties. Andrew has learned that he will get the attention that those third children crave by simply donning a fairy dress or pouring water into a tiny plastic cup, and he couldn't be happier. That is, until his animal instinct rears up and overpowers his social nature, resulting in a fierce pirate attack on Barbie's Dream House, in the aftermath of which, he cunningly skitters away to find Luke, who is always raring for a fight of some kind. Luke doesn't seem to mind being largely ignored, as it gives him time to read and lounge around and study Pokemon cards and get second and third breakfasts - all in a fashion that is frighteningly portentous of the teenager to come - and when he does get bored of that, he knows exactly how to "make things interesting" with his sister. Lets just say that - while the actual physical violence has been relatively low, the auditory violence has been rampant in our house this summer.

As the Parent In Charge, I think I'm getting pretty adept at sensing the tension levels in the house and knowing when to pile everyone into the car for pool time or a museum trip or even just a grocery run - any excuse to lock them in their own car seats for a few moments. And don't think that I've let my high ideals keep us from watching our share of movies and PBS, either... But honestly, as I look back (and write in the lovely isolation of a booth at La Madeleine, rather than in the midst of one of the above mentioned battles), I think they've handled the sibling thing pretty well overall. I love to see them having fun together in ways that acknowledge their diversity; for instance, there was a week in which they were largely entertained by two large IKEA boxes requisitioned for use as spaceships or boats or caves or whatever the current mood entailed: Luke commanded, Sarah decorated, and Andrew provided the muscle. When they go on adventures together, whether biking in the neighborhood or exploring at Gram and Paps's house or even visiting the zoo, Luke maps out the route and objective, Sarah gathers supplies and provides moral support, and Andrew keeps everyone laughing.

But you know as well as I do that the organizational successes that these activities demonstrate is not what I find most gratifying about their interactions as siblings. What I love most is that, no matter how many differences of opinion there may be about how or what or when to play - and no matter how many times those conflicts end in punishable behaviors - there is still an underlying and undeniable thread connecting each of these kids to each other. They may scream at, fight, and ignore each other just as easily as they play happily and laugh together, but at the end of the day - in a house that has no less than six beds available to them - they will insist on piling up together in the very same bed. Because that's just what siblings do.