Brotherly Love

Sibling rivalry is something that I didn't really encounter until my mid-twenties. I had three sisters and a brother on my dad's side growing up, but I didn't see them enough to have a good, solid rivalry with any of them. My mom had twins when I was 19, but since those two were younger than my oldest son, I didn't imagine I would build a rivalrous relationship with them- I was wrong. I thoroughly enjoy fighting with my 20-year-younger-than-me siblings. All that being said, the "fighting" between Michael, Madelyn, and I doesn't hold a candle to the fighting that goes on between my three sweet offspring.

It was a hot July day. Noah was bored, so naturally he began pushing Tripp's buttons. He has it mastered like an art. Ever so slightly, and ever so smoothly, so as to not bring too much attention to himself.

The object of this particular annoyance was to sing a song Tripp HATED, very softly, in hopes that Tripp would fly off the handle.

"NOAH SHUUUUUUUTTTTTTUUUUUPPP!!!!!!!" Tripp screamed.

A smile spread across Noah's face as he basked in sweet success. Tripp was promptly sent to his room for screaming at Noah. Keep in mind, at this point, no adult knew anything of the soft, subtle, singing.

A few minutes after Tripp had been sent to think about what he had done, Jason went and talked to him about what happened. Noah's entire devious plan was laid out.

Jason, not at all unaccustomed to sibling rivalry, fully understood what was going on. He suggested that Tripp stay in his room to play and cool down, and assured him that he would talk to Noah.

At about that time I had to begin getting ready for a brewery tour with a few of my co-workers, so I announced that I would be in the shower. Hey, moms. Any of you ever take a shower in the middle of the day without being interrupted? No? Didn't think so. Me either! I announced my plan so that if anything dire happened, all who reside in my house would know where to find me.

Let's recap. At this point, Tripp is in his room. Noah is in his room. Easton is watching TV on the couch, and Jason is downstairs doing who knows what. I am in the shower.

Five minutes into my relaxing shower, the bathroom door opens. Which boy was intruding on my peace? My husband. "Hey, can I just jump in real quick?" He asks. "I just need to wash the dust off." He says.

No sooner did my three lovely children realize that both of their parents were occupied than did we start to hear a commotion. A banging sound coming from the walls, footsteps pounding, doors slamming. I looked at Jason and kindly reminded him that this was MY shower to begin with. So, like the good husband he is, he dried off to go check it out.

I didn't hear anything else, so I assumed the problem had been addressed and taken care of.

You know what they say about assuming.

This is what actually took place:

When Noah knew the coast was clear, he snuck outside and around to Tripp's window. Then, he started singing that damned song at the top of his lungs so that Tripp would hear him. Tripp decided that he was going to take matters into his own hands, so he headed to the kitchen, climbed onto the counter, grabbed a butcher knife off of our knife strip above the stove and headed outside with it. Noah saw Tripp with the knife and immediately took off. Tripp took off after him.

Pause please.

There were my two children- my sweet, innocent, babies. An 11 year old and a 5-year-old. The children of a teacher and a police officer. Literally trying to kill one another.

Enter Jason.

"Holy shit!" Jason exclaimed, as a slew of scenarios flooded his brain. "STOP!"

Luckily, the tone of Jason's voice was startling enough for them both to stop. They were both sent to their rooms and dealt with accordingly.

No body was injured that day. But if you ever feel bad about your parenting choices, or if you ever feel like you failing as a parent, ask yourself this question:

Did your children try to kill each other today?

No? Then you are doing just fine.

Yes? Then I'm right there with ya.

Until next time,

XOXO Aly