As soon as we announced we were pregnant with our first child, people were quick to enlighten my husband and I with: “A baby will completely change your lives.”
To this oft-heard quip, I resisted the urge to reply, “Duh!” I mean, really, how would a person not know that becoming a parent is a life-changing event? Instead, they should have said, “Enjoy each moment because children are always changing.”
I mean always changing.
These transitions start very early on. I remember when I first started to distinguish the different sounds my first born made. There was one to eat, there was one for a dirty diaper, and there was one – a cute little high pitched squeal – which translated “come pick me up, Mommy!”
With my son, I recall how during a visit from out-of-town family he slept through each night of their stay. “Finally,” I thought to myself, “I can get some sleep.” That all changed the day (or should I say night?) my inlaws left and the little guy switched right back to wanting those two early-morning feedings I so hoped he had outgrown.
Nearly all the changes I have witness in my children are positive and mark exciting new milestones. The more they talk, the more physically daring they become, how they play with each other, what they like to draw with crayons... These things come with each day as my son and daughter grow into their unique selves.
But I do not welcome all aspects of their growth with open arms.
Sibling rivalry, for one, is just something I do not get. As an only child growing up I always yearned for a brother or sister with whom to play. Now, as my children bicker over everything from who gets to turn off the television to who can get out of the car first, I can actually feel my hair graying.
The other day I was talking to a woman whose daughter and son are a few years older than my own. When my little ones started tousling over who could open the door to leave, I asked over my shoulder, “Tell me: is this what I have to look forward to the rest of my life?”
My friend laughed. “Oh, yes, just this morning my daughter complained her brother was looking at her.” The horror!
My husband, one of four boys, is adamant we do not allow the bickering and teasing which comes with sibling territory to go unchecked. And I agree, for the simple fact I cannot bear to listen to it.
I choose not to ignore the wailing and accusations of “Mommy, sissy not nice,” but rather I have started to lay down the law. Unless one of them does something glaringly wrong – like hit the other – I am resolved not to pick sides. Thankfully, the threat of being sent to their rooms, where there is no one else to play with, still carries enough weight in my house to work. Most of the time.
Another change for which I was ill prepared was my daughter's recent shift from sweet little girl to sassy kindergartener. Seemingly overnight she started picking battles with me whenever I ask her to do something. Lately, I am faced with resistance whether I tell her to get dressed, pick up toys or go to the bathroom before we head out to school.
Each encounter plays out pretty much the same way. I say something like, “Sissy, in 10 minutes we have to get ready to go to school so please help clean up the toys.” Her response almost always starts with her little arms crossed “that's not fair,” she “doesn't like (getting dressed, picking up toys, going to the bathroom – fill in the blank),” topped off with a rousing “I'm not going to marry you anymore!”
I have tempered my response to these outbursts because I do not believe a negative reaction on my part will change the behaviour. My husband, my mother, and even my daughter's kindergarten teacher have spoken to her about “being nice to Mommy.” Just the other day I overheard one of these conversations while I was preparing dinner, when my daughter confessed “I don't know how.”
These words would have broken my heart if not spoken so candidly by my own offspring. Who among us has not experienced moments when our mouths say something before we have thought it through? I know I am guilty of both saying and doing things I later regret, but am unsure how to make amends.
I trust our pediatrician's diagnosis which is my daughter is testing her boundaries. Perhaps she wants to make sure I will love her no matter what, much like the little girl in the book I read to her “Mama do you love me?” by Barbara Joosse. I am still trying to figure out the best way to let my daughter express her frustrations while still being respectful, but I know once I do something else will change and I with it.
In the meantime, when these battles start to weigh me down, I remind myself I am facing the same little girl who is just as quick to tell me I am her “best Mommy ever” as she is to pick a fight. This is the same little girl who likes to give me nose kisses. And I love her.
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