Last week I had a parenting kunundrum on my hands that left me befuddled, and looking for solutions in dealing with squabbling sisters. Usually my girls get along well. Yes they disagree and argue like all siblings do sometimes. But in the big picture they have a good time together. They do well playing independently, without me having to interact or play referee with them.
However, for three straight days last week I was in constant conflict resolution and mediation mode, trying to keep the peace here. Peacefully, with kind words and patience. By Wednesday my patience was shot.
The doll area that was set up in the basement for the summer, while the upstairs undergoes renovations, was where it all began. My oldest daughter came home from a special grandparent trip with a new doll on Sunday.
My middle girl usually doesn’t care much about these dolls and has mostly given up all the rights to her dolls to her sister. Except when a new doll enters the house and the big sister wants time in the space all to herself, which is technically a shared doll space that she has taken ownership of – even though half of it really belongs to her middle sister.
The middle sister had her special grandparent trip first, and came home delighted to see her sisters and share her new loot. Much to my shock, round two didn’t go as well.
Someone was stuck in only-child mode and wanted to play alone, uninterrupted, for hours. That is great if you are the only child. But that is simply not the case here where spaces must be shared.
So for four days, no one played in the space, until a peaceful solution could be made. I rattled my brain for a fair way to handle it all.
I came up with this proposition for my oldest daughter: Either you choose to share the doll space and everything in it, or we separate up the space and set your things up in a place that is your own and you give back all the items that actually belong to your sister. It was a very tough decision for her because she wanted all the doll stuff organized together, in the set up space that is very fun with a couch, dressers, fabric hanging from the wall….and so on.
I think the options I presented were fair. That happened on Monday morning.
By Wednesday that area, and the new doll, remained untouched – with the space in a state that resembled the aftermath of a category 4 hurricane. By Wednesday afternoon the mess was bothering me and I really wanted it all cleaned up, physically and figurativly.
I asked one of my mom friend’s for advice. One who grew up as the youngest of three girls. I grew up with one older brother, and I never dealt with sister sharing issues. Her advice was brilliant.
“Give her a deadline. Kids work well with deadlines.” Ah ha! Why didn’t I think of that?
By the end of the day my daughter had to decide if she would choose to keep the space the same and share it with her sister, or divide it up and give back the things that officially belong to my middle girl. A deadline was good because I didn’t think it was right for my middle girl to not have access to her stuff (even though it doesn’t mean that much to her) until the decision was made.
Meanwhile all this not sharing business and fussiness over extreme organizational pickiness (ah, em type A) was about to do me (not a type A) in. AND, there was a whole lot of boredom happening because the area, determined by my oldest daughter, was off limits until the problem was resolved.
And then came the breakthrough moment!
We had been doing art in the basement, spending an afternoon using up kits and crafts that were gifts dating back to Christmas. They came in handy just when I needed them. Pulling “new” things out of cabinets was fun for all of us. But then one thing led to another, one girl was shaking the table, one girl’s painting wasn’t working out, one girl wanted to do a craft she was too young to do successfully, one girl had a hard time accepting there was no way her craft was going to look like the picture on the box.
At that moment I started counting down the days until they ALL go back to school – on August 13.
It was 4:00 and I had a squash and zucchini dinner I wanted to get started on. So I decided to excuse myself from the situation, hoping things could work themselves out. I went to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine, to offset the increased amount of whining I had been dealing with all weeklong.
My oldest daughter wanted to do a kit making pom pom pillows for her dolls. I was headed upstairs and I kindly told her to read the directions and figure it out.
“I know you can do it,” I told her. “We have made those before and you are capable of figuring it out. Just read the directions in the box.”
Next she hollered up to me, “Mom the directions say to ask a grown up for help.”
Oh she got me! Sigh.
“There is no grown up available right now,” I kindly hollered back down the stairs.
And then…..about 10 minutes later she pops up the stairs as proud as proud could be, with one doll pillow she made all by herself.
I knew she could do it! She was so proud of her work. And her independent success.
Meanwhile in the dinning room my middle girl was working on some workbook she found in our basement stash, and my toddler was handing her the colored pencils.
At that moment I realized, I had been so in he middle of the girls this week, trying to peacefully mediate their arguments, negotiate solutions with them and find things for them to do – that things were better when I just got out of the way.
It reminded me of the post I wrote back during my first few weeks of writing this blog, titled Confession: I don’t play with my kids and why that’s not such a bad thing.
And the next morning….my oldest daughter came to me with all smiles and said, “Mom. I’ve decide to share the doll space and keep it the same.”
I hugged and kissed here. Her sister hugged and kissed her. We all hugged in a big sandwich hug gleefully jumping up and down in the kitchen.
I knew she would come to a peaceful decision. I just had to give her time. And let her decide on her own.
Eventually, the next day, she cleaned up the doll space all on her own – “organizing it” just perfectly – the way she sees as appropriate. And I didn’t say a word.
To read a similar essay about mothering and letting kids take the lead, you might enjoy A lesson in saying yes when I wanted to say no.
