The Pretty Spoon

So, this picture of my dear ones - sweet brother and sister - holding hands and being lovely to one another.  Well, this is how I imagined Henry and Anna would be once they got to this age.  Playing and laughing and reading books together.  Basically, learning how to be the best of friends....

Oh my.  That's not exactly happening at the moment.

What's up with all this fighting???  Lately, it feels non-stop.  Over everything.  And even worse - over nothing at all.

"I get the computer first."

"Quit singing (or humming or talking or fill-in-the-blank!)

"I had it first."

"It's my turn."

"Mom, Henry looked at me."

"You had it last.  Where did you put it?"

"No fair!!"

OH MY GOODNESS!!  Swear to god.....I even threatened to pull the car over yesterday.

Of course, I know siblings fight.  Heck, I grew up with two brothers, and we fought over nothing too.

I remember.....We had this damn spoon. Who knows where it came from - - maybe inside a bag of sugar or something.  We referred to that spoon as "the pretty spoon" and my brothers and I argued over who would get to use it every night at dinner time.  Every. Night.

How our mother survived that daily argument (and all the others) without running out the front door??  Well, now I know it was a small miracle.

Who knows - maybe it's hereditary.  Maybe I'm just passing the "fight with your siblings" gene on, from a long line of family sibling fighters..... 

And shoot - now my kiddos are doomed too.

But, here is my latest theory.  And actually - all kidding aside - it's made all this arguing a little more tolerable. 

I think my kiddos fight, in our otherwise happy little home, because it is safe to do so.  They're just practicing how to stand up for themselves.  And (even better), maybe this arguing stuff is developmentally appropriate.  Like this is exactly how they learn to be assertive.  How to keep people from stepping all over them.

Thankfully, they don't walk up to their teacher or a friend and yell "Hey!  It's my turn for the pretty spoon.  Hand it over."  But as I've been trying to think this all through and figure out how to address it a little better - well, their fighting has come to make a little more sense to me.

Of course, I'd appreciate it if Henry and Anna were a little nicer in their tone when they practiced all these new-found assertiveness skills.  And we'll keep working on that part.  But sometimes mommy-beggars can't be mommy-choosers.  Lessons come in all sorts of odd ways.

But regardless of it's truth, my little "developmentally-appropriate" theory has been keeping me from screaming and running out the front door lately.

Goodness, maybe that's exactly how my mom stayed put all those years ago too!

(Of course, the little moments like in these photos - even if they are few and far between lately - well, they certainly help a whole lot too!)