I grew up in a houseful of boys. The oldest of the boys was to busy (and older)to really get into the complete aspect of the sibling abuse. The other two however, were complete authorities on the matter. As much as they would mistreat me I still treasured the moments they would include me in on their activities. For example, the year my brother completed his Mic-o-Say initiation with the Boy Scouts and decided to initiate me when he returned home. Or when they decided to play a new game that they had made up, but much to my dismay it was to throw a ball as hard as you could to the youngest person in the room. Can you guess who that was?
But in all that torment there was love. It wasn’t (or isn’t) always shown but I know its there. I had no doubt in my mind that they would come to bat for me. The day one brother ran a friend out of our house because he was being disrespectful to me. Or when I had my heartbroken and my brother could tell my hurt and asked if I wanted the guy’s a** kicked. The day Craig found out he was being laid off and my brother said, “Whatever you need, just ask.”
I see this same situation with my own children. “Mom, her feet are on me.” “Mom, Dalton just shot me with his Nerf gun.” “Mom, Megan just kicked me in my privates.” You get my picture. But then comes the love. The days when Megan misses Dalton because he is at a friend’s house. The day Megan had to go to the emergency room and Dalton refused to leave her side. Dalton is her protector and Megan would do anything for him.
As a parent now I have to remember that where there is bickering there is also love. The days where I threaten to lock them in the basement (or today when I threaten to handcuff them together for the rest of the day) because of their constant bickering, I find that all I can do is pray for God to give me patience. And with that patience He then usually throws in the love. And then that’s when I find them together and playing nicely. But watch out….it doesn’t last long.