Guerilla Warfare

We're fighting some sort of guerilla warfare in our house. With most child-parent battles, the lines are clearly drawn. We say it's bedtime, she says it is not. She says it's goldfish and juice for breakfast, we say it's not. But lately, we've be wandering around in a strange wilderness, catching only glimpses of the enemy. You feel someone shoot you in the butt, and then you turn around and no one's there.

Is this all too vague for you? Ok. I'm talking once again about the brother-sister relationship. Only rarely do we encounter the clear battles in this war. Scotlen is neither mean nor bold enough to engage in an all out assault. Instead, we find ourselves watching and wondering - "Is that a real hug, or is she now squeezing tight and he's starting to cry?" "Is she just blocking him from her favorite toy with her arm, or is there now some subtle pushing with the arm?" "Is she holding his hand, or does this now qualify as squishing his hand?"

I submit to you, Exhibit A, "Noooo, buddy, get in your box."


Somebody help us out here - where do you draw these lines? Jonas just adores his sister. All he wants to do is smile at her and touch her and crawl into her lap and grab her hair, even when she's squalling, "Noooo, buddy." But in Scotlen's defense, you can see it from her perspective too. Would I want Kyle crawling into my lap and tugging on my hair and drooling on me when I am quietly trying to read a book - even if it came from love? No, I would not (hint, hint Kyle). If I had painstakingly created a village of dinosaurs and cars, would I want someone crashing though that village, wreaking havok? Of course not.

So we find ourselves in this weird space, where all we do is say, over and over again, "be nice to your brother, Scotlen, he just loves you." So, so lame. I have a feeling that managing this burgeoning relationship inside our house is only going to get more interesting.