I declare sibling war.

It happened.  It finally happened.  Ok, maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised. 


Last weekend we were visiting some friends, and in their backyard was a swing set with a slide.  The boys were so excited to play with it.  Eventually Evan discovered a new game o0f rolling cars down the slide to Sean who laughed with glee, giving me the car to hand back to Evan to start the process all over again.   Evan kept in his other hand a purple Halloween flashlight that he found and wanted to carry around the house.  So after a dozen times of rolling down the car, Evan realized that the flashlight was round like wheels.  Let’s see what happens.


Success.  The flashlight rolled perfectly into Sean’s waiting hands, but rather than hand the flashlight to Mommy, Sean’s chubby hands closed around the flashlight.  Then Sean turned and started pumping those thick legs for all they were worthy.  Evan let out a cry and threw himself down the slide.  This is bad.


Since my legs are longer than the boys are tall, I shot past Evan with ease.  Sean had the element of surprise even though he still has that waddle run with his arms pumping side to side.  I caught up to him before he rounded the pool, shouting to Evan to let Mommy handle this.  I grabbed Sean and set him down, kneeling to look eye to eye. 


“Evan was playing with this.  This is Evan’s toy.  When he is done with it, you can play with it.  Now give it to Mommy.”


I know the only reason Sean wanted it was because Evan had it.  I pried the flashlight out of Sean’s fingers.  I handed it to Evan.  Sean’s hand shot out and grabbed the flashlight.  They tug-a-war-ed it.  I grabbed Sean, pulling him off the flashlight.  Sean wailed as though his puppy died.  Then I carried him inside and dumped him into my husband’s lap.


“What’s wrong, Sean,” asked my husband.


“He’s acting like a second born.”



I shouldn’t have been so surprised.  Maybe I should have been surprised over how long they were friends.  According to family legend my brother and I declared war much earlier on.


I was sitting, watching TV, holding my Teddy, sucking on my pacifier, minding my own business.  When my brother, my non-sucking pacifier brother, crawled over, he took the pacifier out of my mouth and crawled away.  When he was safely past arms length, he sat down, waved the pacifier in my direction to make sure I knew he had it, and stuck it in his mouth.  Are you kidding me?!  And I did what any toddler would do.  I started to cry.  And plot revenge.


And then it was a free for all after that.  Little moon-shape scars from fingernails.  Clumps of hair pulled from the root.  Barbie doll heads, hot wheel wheels, broken banks, broken toys.  Lies, blaming, tattling, arguments.  Wrestling matches that went on hours after the favorite TV show was over and unwatched.  A malignant hate that spread amongst the three of us in all consuming war that finally cumulated to the devastating head of-


Actually we eventually grew out of it in our late teens, early twenties, and we actually call one another and hang out.  It’s weird.  Of course, the minute the parents leave us alone with the TV and remote, we start arguing again.




So now whatever Evan has, Sean must have  it NOW.  If Evan is eating something, even if Sean has his own or already ate his own, he must have Evan’s NOW.  Not that Evan doesn’t just run by to hit, push, kick Sean whenever he gets the urge.  You can actually see it in Evan’s eyes when he’s decided to do something to Sean.


The other day, Sean bent down to examine something on the ground.  Evan took the opportunity to go behind Sean and start kicking him in the bum.  Sean was as unmoved as a rock.  I was horrified, and Evan spent sometime in the time out chair.


Or the day when Evan refused to nap and fell asleep on the couch watching football with his dad.  Out of nowhere, Sean came over and just started wailing on Evan, who slept through the whole thing.  We would scold Sean and distract him, but two minutes later he’s getting in his blows.  Hey, show some respect.  At least, do it when your parents aren’t watching!


So I’m knee deep in sibling rivalry.  Part of it’s my fault because I can’t seem to remember to buy two of everything.  Why the hell didn’t I buy two Wall*e’s.  And Bill Cosby may be right; eventually I won’t care about justice, just peace.

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8 Responses to “ I declare sibling war.”

  1. KathyB! Says:

    Okay, the visual of Sean bent over and Evan trying to punt him has me thinking of Charlie Brown and smiling from ear to ear…

    And enjoy that sibling rivalry. It just keeps getting better. I try to keep a lid on it as best I can (I just tied the kids together recently. It’s a long story but child abuse was in no way involved — I’ll post about it shortly), but it’s a ceaseless battle.

  2. C Says:

    I only care about peace…I find myself doing whatever I can to make Middle shut the f*** up. Lots of “just give it to her pleeeeaassee” Her cry is like fingernails down a chalkboard to me. The horrible part is she knows it and uses it against me.

  3. Erik Says:

    There will be justice in my house, but its going to be a subjective view of Justice established by the oligarchy of my fiancee and I.

    I’d also hope for the possible silver lining of sibling rivalry in the future. My brother and I are two years apart and our rivalry ended up pushing us to be better than each other at every activity, sport, and academic endeavor we pursued. I’d like to think we turned out pretty well, and the better for it.

  4. wild4words Says:

    I’m still waiting for it to happen…. we’ve made it almost 2 years so far, but I know it’s coming. I keep warning my oldest (6) that he’d better be nice to his little brother (22 months) because he’s going to be bigger than him… then I remember my mum telling me the same thing and my sister is still a shrimp.

    My favorite? When my sister went crying to my mother that I’d called her a “bad name.” (I was 9, she was 6) I walked in with “the look” on my face.

    My mum: “What did she call you?”
    Little sis: “I can’t say, it’s too bad.”
    Mum: “It’s ok tell me…”
    L.S.: “She called me a f*&@ing a**hole.”
    My mum (without blinking an eye) says to me: “Did you?”
    Me, still with “the look”: Yes.
    Mum asks L.S.: “Were you?” (Which I love!)
    and this was L.S.’s answer: “Yes, but she shouldn’t have called me that!!”

    I don’t know what is better – that mum thought to ask or that L.S. ‘fessed up to being one.

    We both got in trouble, but it was worth it.

  5. mediocreperfectionist Says:

    I know it is trying for you but man that’s good material. The butt kicking especially! Please promise me that you’ll stop short of making them sit together on the couch and hold hands during atime out. My sister and I have mirror image scars on our hands from digging our fingernails into each other during that parenting experiment.

  6. Gibby Says:

    Oh dear. Now that it has started…it only gets worse. My girls are 7 and 4 and man, can they do it up!! Usually it is the older one being mean to the younger one. My 4-yr-old thinks her big sis walks on water but can still beat the crap out of her. There is no middle ground. They are either the best of friends or the worst of friends. It was the same for me and my brother. We used to BEAT each other, and now I know I am paying for it! My mom just laughs when I tell her what the girls’ fight-of-the-day was. Which, of course, ticks me off even more!

  7. faemom Says:

    KathyB!~ It is a bit funny when it’s not your own kids. I can only imagine what the girls did to get tied together. I can’t wait for THAT post.

    C~ Don’t you hate when they find your weakness. It’s time to pull the rug from underneath her.

    Erik~ I wish you the best of luck. I can only wish that my boys’ rivalry could have such good results; I’ll just settle for adult friendships, with any luck.

    Wild~ I hear the growth thing only works on brothers, and little brothers are suppose to grow as tall as they were picked on by older brothers. My baby brother towers over the other by 8 inches. But that is an awesome exchange between you, your sister, and your mother. Your mother was very insightful.

    Mediocre~ I’m sure I’ll get tons of material through this. Heck, I could write for weeks on just my brothers and I. Don’t you love parental experiments? My mom threw us out of the house until we were done fighting, assuming we would stop immediately and want back in. She had to break us up to bring us in for dinner.

    Gibby~ Oh man! And they haven’t even got old enough to have the good fights like clothes, jewelry, boys and the car. Good luck. I don’t know what I’d do if my mom laughed. Oh, wait. She will.

  8. Tips On Losing Weight Says:

    I completely agree with everything in this post. keep up the good work

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