People are always asking me if I think it’s a good idea to have
two children and, if so, how close together. I’m not sure why they
keep asking me this.
People are always asking me if I think it’s a good idea to have two children and, if so, how close together. I’m not sure why they keep asking me this. Maybe it’s because my children are only two and a half years apart; therefore, I should have some sort of insight about this sort of thing. Or perhaps it’s because they see what a great job I’m doing and respect my opinion. Or maybe it’s because the bags under my eyes make me look too tired to lie. For whatever the reason, I usually give them a sage-like answer about how children with siblings close in age grow up to be more assertive, successful, articulate and all that – although deep down I really just thought it would be nice for my daughter to have someone else to play checkers with.
However, there was one thing I hadn’t counted on. Nowhere in all of those parenting books did it mention the number one rule of raising multiple children is that everything – everything must be equal at all times – especially in the early years. And, believe me, they will keep track. This includes things like who sat in the cart the last time we went to the grocery store, whose turn it is to use the purple cup at dinner, and who had .08 teaspoons more chocolate syrup on their ice cream.
Not that long ago, when my son was 5 and could barely count to 10, he still knew that the previous night he went to bed 3.7 minutes before his sister did. And she always knew exactly how many sips of milk he had in his cup during dinner.
Of course, I want both of my children to be happy. So at first I tried to solve the problem by offering vague, Zen-like suggestions. “Relax, Honey. Your brother doesn’t have more purple Play-Doh. It really belongs to both of you.”
When that didn’t work I tried reasoning. “If you let your sister go first now, you can go first next time. See, easy, huh?”
Finally, I was reduced to the sarcastic, “We gave your brother one more marshmallow on his sundae because we like him better.”
But none of these comments seemed to help their inconsistent relationship. One minute, they’d be sitting on the floor playing Candyland, and the next arguing about who is breathing more air. I began to suspect they kept a running tally sheet underneath their pillows and compared notes each night before going to sleep.
For a while I tried to prevent arguments by automatically dividing everything in half. But no matter how hard I tried, sooner or later one of my children would break out a ruler and accuse the other one of having more.
It was clear I needed outside help the day my mother-in-law caught me trying to mark the cat off into two equal pieces. “You know,” she said, “a child’s concept of wanting everything equal has nothing to do with having more food or getting in the car first. It’s just their way of assuring themselves they are loved equally.”
Now this is just the type of answer I’ve come to expect from her. But, I must admit, it made sense. So the next time my son accused my daughter of having .03 grams more ice cream in her bowl, I put my arms around him and gave him a hug.
And when he hugged me back, for a whole five seconds, I felt like I was on the verge of a parental breakthrough. Maybe even a victory. Then my daughter announced that she wanted a hug – and a kiss.
Maybe it’s me, but I have a feeling the next 10 years aren’t going to be easy.
