There's a holiday coming up.
That means there are 2 days tacked on to an already too long to bear weekend when the kids are pushing their sibling relationships to the limit.
Don't get me wrong, I love my little rugrats. But maybe it's the reduced amount of available daylight. Possibly, it's the increased amount of rain. Or there is a slight chance it's the excitement of the upcoming holidays after just crashing from the sugar-high induced by Halloween. It could even be the adjustment to our newly "free from soccer" schedule.
Whatever the reason, they are at each other's throats!
It could be that all of their insanity is a result of the fact that wherever we look, it's already Christmas! It isn't even Thanksgiving yet, and the stores are decorated with lit and decorated trees, there is Christmas music playing and "we have eggnog" is splashed across every espresso stand's sign and has been since the middle of September.
Whatever the reason, my patience is wearing thin. Very, very thin.
Thin like being trapped in an elevator listening to The Chipmunk's Christmas Album!
Yesterday, five minutes after walking in the front door and bringing with them the daily chaos that I've become accustomed to, Wyatt was found lying on the floor crying because his sister slapped him.
"Up to your room," I said to the obvious culprit, who was hovering over him.
After sending her off to "think about what she'd done," I turned to Wyatt.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, but mom -"
That's where I cut him off. You see, I had only left their presence to clean up a mess in the kitchen for a mere moment, and I know he was playing rough with his sister.
Does this make it okay?
No, and she was promptly removed from the situation, given a lecture and a four-minute stay in time-out.
But does he hold at least a little bit of responsibility for having engaged in combat with a fast-handed 4-year-old?
I can't become involved in every little scuffle between my children. They have to learn how to work it out together. Otherwise I'll be running over to their houses when I'm sixty, breaking up disagreements when I should be lying on a beach in Mexico with my husband, sipping icy cold Coronas!
My friend and I were talking about this the other night. About how sometimes, even though it's hard, we have to let them work it out. They will find their footing with one another if we let them, which leaves more time for us to, well, be parents and focus on the things that really matter!
But if anyone has any tips on how to actually do this, I'd gladly welcome them!