No, it’s true, I really do hate her

That’s what my son says when he’s challenged about his true feelings for his sister.  We believe he couldn’t possibly “hate her” as much as he claims, but he spends a lot of time arguing his point.  He doesn’t love her, like her, think she’s funny, or believe that her hair is not for pulling.

But as they say, actions speak louder than words.  ‘Cause here’s the thing, whenever they’re watching one of their favorite shows, like Phineas and Ferb, and she hops up and says, “Argh, I have to go to the potty!”  I hear him walk over to the DVD player and hit pause.

That’s my boy.

Pool Politics

My kids were in the kiddie pool the other day.  As tends to happen in a pool, they both got wet.  Not soon after I ended up kicking ‘em out because they were fighting.  What they were fighting about was being wet.  “He got water on me! Waaaaah.”  She’s getting me all wet! Wahh”

Really?  Y’all are in a pool whining about getting wet?

I swear to GOD my hand is on the resignation letter.

I’ll wreck your dreams

My daughter is a little sister. I also, am a little sister. We are very special. In the natural order of siblings, it is a rank of distinction. Our great acts of love and sweetness are equally matched by our stunning acts of revenge and deception. We treat quid pro quo as a creative challenge, and our timing is impeccable.

My big brother was 5 years older than me. I knew from the start that I was physically out-matched. This fact was made painfully clear to me through many games of “try to hit me” along with various wrestling holds. My cheek and the lime green wool carpet were best friends. I understood early on that my warfare would have to be non-physical. Retribution would have to wait years, not days.

My day finally came when my brother was 17 and I was 12. You see, my brother was popular with the girls. Handsome, blond, athletic, and homecoming king. He was a thoughtful boyfriend, frequently buying gifts, and making phone calls. Thing was, he was thoughtful with many girls. My revenge was executed over a random phone call from one of them. As I answered the phone, I casually spoke to her about things and stuff. I knew that she had just been the recipient of a gold necklace. What she didn’t know, was that so were 2 other girls. I merely remarked that it was a pretty piece of jewelry, so pretty that my brother had bought several and had distributed them.

I was thinking about all of this because of the other night. My 5 yo son was happily asleep, then all the sudden he started talking. He was dreaming, maybe a little more nightmare than dream – but it wasn’t scaring him to the point of intervention.

But here’s what the poor kid was saying, “Mom, mom! It’s my sister, Mom! Sheeeeeeee’s buggin’ me again. MOM!”

He quieted down quickly after that and was calm. As I rolled over in bed I thought, “Son, you are a big brother…I shall pray for you, I shall pray.”

Winged Migration

If you haven’t seen the movie Winged Migration – It’s amazing. Visually stunning and epic in scope. I can watch it over and over. I was thinking about it this morning because one scene reminds me of my kids. It speaks volumes about the drama of life and survival. In a very extreme way, it highlights the nature of sibling rivalry.

When I first saw the movie – I had to play the scene a couple of times because I couldn’t make out what was happening. But as I figured it out – I was like Gasp! No! That did not just happen. What does that mean? Whoa.

Here’s what happens…There’s a beautiful scene of a wetland area. In the tall reeds there is a nest. Happy scene. The sun is all sparkly on the water, birds chirping, and the gentle lapping sound of water. The camera zooms into the nest. There is an egg and some kind of creature next to it. Whatever that something is, it’s wrestling with the unhatched egg. This weird looking animal-digs itself under the egg and starts to push it up. It struggles for some time. Then, all of the sudden with one last push of it’s back, it forces the unhatched egg over the side and – PLOP – into the water and gone…That creature? It was the chick that hatched first! OH MY GOD. It just pushed it’s brother over board.

I sat there with my mouth open for several minutes. He did not, he did not just push his brother over the side. Then I looked at my two kids…pushing each other around, jockeying for sofa space, screaming MINE! at the top of their lungs, and the best? Once, one of my kids actually pushed the other one off of my lap – flung themselves across me and yelled, “No! She’s MY mom!

Ah, so that’s how it is. We like to think that we are so evolved. Sometimes, I think we are not. I look at my kids – and despite being best friends, they are also the worst enemies – if I weren’t around to show them the difference – one day, one of them just might give the other, that Winged Migration shove.