I recently made a six-hour car trip with my two children, ages 14 and 11. As a wily old veteran of this particular form of maternal torture, I thought I was as prepared as humanly possible. Both had fully charged phones and iPads and backpacks full of books and snacks -- two of everything, just like Noah's Ark. They had the option of watching movies, listening to music, reading, talking to or texting with friends. What was not an option was to constantly bicker with one another. That was the trip rule.
By hour two, I conceded defeat. Sibling rivalry kicked in and I was threatening to turn the car around if they didn't knock it off. They did and I didn't, but it got me thinking: At what point will my children stop the sibling rivalry and begin acting like a family?
A post-50 friend who lives less a mile from her brother in Los Angeles and talks to him maybe once a year gave me this answer: Possibly never.
In some cases, sibling rivalry grows into adult envy. Whether the underlying reason is that Mom loved you more, or it's just a simple matter of old habits dying hard, I find this possibility unsettling.
I'm an only child and grew up in the company of my older parents and their adult friends. I learned at an early age how to behave around grownups and how to entertain myself without another child in the house to play with. I grew up feeling comfortable with being alone -- not lonely mind you, but alone. Even now, as an adult, I still find the need to be alone sometimes. I think I never really learned how to share my space with others. I sometimes sneak off and hide out in the shower, just to escape the family noise on occasion.
As a child, what I wanted most was a sister. I remember asking my parents to please get me one, and promising to help train her -- much like the dog they got me hoping it would end the discussion. It didn't.
Having a sister would have been a game changer for sure. At least I think it would have. All I know is that I mourned the absence of a sister my entire life, but especially when my parents' health began to fail and the burden of their care fell to me with no one to share it. There was no one but me to run them to the doctors, to help them fill out the paperwork, to manage their lives, their meal preparation, their financial and physical safety. And as we neared the end, there was no one but me to make the tough decisions.
Now, when I look at my two children, I wonder whether they'll be among the one-third of all siblings for whom discord sown early lasts a lifetime. Back in 1993, Psychology Today published a piece with the bold news that "conflict is not the natural state of sibling relationships." So I am clinging to the hope that one day, their need to annoy one another -- is it vying for my attention? my love? -- will be overridden by their need to support each other.
Until then, I fear my son will continue to count the peas on his sister's plate and complain if she got more. He doesn't even like peas. My daughter, who has displayed tolerance for every living thing on the planet -- including the spider who must be relocated instead of stomped on -- has been known to haul off and slug her brother because he "keeps looking at me Mom!"
And then my thoughts go back to my friend who never sees her brother. Their last major conversation came at their mom's funeral and it was over distribution of the estate; he wanted to know when my friend expected the accounting would be done and how long she thought it would take to sell Mom's house in this market.
I prefer to not pass judgment on people I don't know, but I can't help but wonder how many missed opportunities came before that funeral day? Could their mother have done something differently to quash the dissidence and mend the gap?
Surely, this isn't really about the number of peas on the plate.
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We h ave never gotten along. We are as different as if we were raised on different planets.
We have been to counseling together. Her answer was to walk out when she heard what she didn't like.
If she were not my sister she would never under any circumstances be a friend of mine, not ever. I avoid her until I can't and then 10 minutes is the max.
It only gets worse as time goes on; especially if parents aren't capable of admitting that there is/was an issue. My parents had six kids, in two groups of three (one group close in age to each other, and the other group 10+ years younger). I'm the oldest of the first group, and haven't talked to my oldest brother since 1992---and am happier for it! Now that I'm an adult, I can choose not to have to put up with his ill treatment anymore. I don't forsee any good reason for him to come back into my life.
Ann Brenoff, the writer of this article, already has the expertise in teaching her children to appreciate time alone because she grew up as an only child herself where she appreciated her time alone.
From as far back as I can remember, my dad always told me that it was OK to be mad at my sister; that it was OK for us to fight. But he always punctuated the importance of family--how friends, even spouses, can come and go, but blood is always blood; how my sister and I should always have each other's back, even if we were mad at each other. To this day, this sticks with me. If/and/or/when I have kids of my own, I will tell them the very same thing.
That said, my parents also made sure to treat my sister and I equally, while appreciating our differences. So in that sense, I was never competitive with my sister over food or toys, or things like that. In terms of non-tangible things, like school, my sister was the straight A student, while I was the epiotme of mediocrity. I did; however, not hold this against my sister, instead choosing to differentiate myself through my enlistment with the military, which to me, proved my "academic" worth. There was never a spoken or unspoken rivalry between my sister and I. Sure, we fought. And we still fight. But we're brother and sister, not rivals.
But since I don't have any experience with a sibling, I was wondering how to encourage a strong bond/friendship between my children. I like your dad's approach a lot. Can you elaborate a bit on how he did this? Was it a simple matter of punishment for arguing or did he insist on resolving conflicts with proactive solutions? What about when he wasn't around? Did you share a room?
Please remember I grew up in the "old days". Everything was different, we benefited greatly by having a stay at home mom. She was and is a wonderful homemaker and very loving Mom. My Daddy was the most loving, hard working, giving, caring man I've ever known. They both loved us unconditionally and equally...all three of us were the "favorite".
They both grew up in large families, knew all about sibling rivalry's and such, and were determined that their children were going to love and care about each other. My Dad's childhood wasn't wonderful, he worked very hard to be sure his little family was different than the one he grew up in. My parents were a pair, always did what they said, always consistent...we were taught from the day we were born, love your family, friends and god, work hard, help others and most important....always, always tell the truth. They just didn't tolerate fighting or arguing. The only thing we ever got punished for was telling a lie. It's amazing how much trouble you avoid by knowing you will tell the truth.
I was so fortunate to have these two parents. I'm so grateful for their greatest gift...a loving family. I wish I knew the perfect advice...unconditional love and consistency are a big part of it...