Resist the urge to intervene in sibling squabbles
The blogging universe is getting bigger by the day. Do you read a lot of blogs? Do you write one? We’re always looking for bloggers who write on the topics of fitness and parenting. Send your suggestions to jhall@edmontonjournal.com. In the meantime, check these out:
Alyson Schafer’s blog promises to lower the stress of parenting “one tip at a time.” A psychotherapist and considered one of the country’s leading parenting experts, you can find her atalysonschafer.com, where her posts include advice on everything from potty training to sibling rivalry. Speaking of which, this excerpt is entitled “Ways to Ignore Sibling Fighting Without Condoning or Abandoning.” Take a look:
If you watch The Parenting Show or have attended one of my Parenting Bootcamps, you’ll know that I often answer parents who ask, “How should I deal with sibling fighting?” with the advice, “Just ignore it.”
That is just one solution and, no, it doesn’t mean I condone violence or that I tolerate people being treated poorly. My “just ignore it” advice is because most often fights and quarrels between sibs occur because they know it will serve to get your attention.
Fighting is a negative behavioural pattern choice that they both have discovered over time; namely, that if they get along, parents tend to ignore them and get busy with their chores and emails and cooking dinner, etc.
When they fight and cause a kerfuffle, however, parents get involved with them again. It’s THAT involvement they seek and they simply have learned from experience that being in conflict achieves it. Be peaceful, get ignored. Fight, get parental attention.
My advice is to switch that up. When they are playing peacefully, go join them and tell them what good company they are, and when they fight, instead of intervening and policing, try one of these lines instead (and then walk away):
“I am sorry you are having trouble with your sister — I am sure you two can work it out.”
“I am not interested in watching this — call me when you two are playing co-operatively again and I’ll happily come join in again.”
“I am sorry you are choosing to not get along — I’m going to find something else to do. Come get me if you want to play happily again.”
“I can see you are having a hard time playing without getting rough — this is not a fighting house — please take it outside.”
“I can’t watch people I love hurt each other, I am leaving.”
“I am going to get a coffee. Call my cellphone when the house is a peaceful place to be in.”
Emma Willer is the proud mom to three boys under the age of six and calls herself a “hobby blogger.” If you go to herebewillers.com, you’ll find
blog posts such as this one:
His head on my shoulder, the weight of his body against me, warm and soft. I’ve got to get that tummy settled before I lay him down.
I squint at the news or chuckle at something funny, quietly. I often think to myself that I should record the voice of Peter Mansbridge or Jon Stewart as they might forever be his sleep cues.
I put him down beside me and his eyelids drop in the flickering darkness.
Eventually I too drift off, and will wake up at some point to turn off the television, fumbling for the remote.
Otherwise we sleep soundly, warmly.
I know I could put him to bed in his crib earlier, but I’ve never even tried to. I know I “should” be letting him sleep on his own. But I’m savouring these moments like I never did before, knowing that he’s definitely the last baby.
Co-sleeping seemed like a necessary evil with the other two — the one thing that got them to sleep a decent amount of time at night.
This time, it’s my indulgence. I’m being selfish.
Sometimes I just lie there and gaze at him for a while. He’s wondrous.
The days revolve around everyone else — he gets shlepped to and from school, he gets taken to run errands, he gets ignored so I can cook dinner/ read a book/whatever.
But the nights are ours. My nights are his. It’s almost too bad that we spend most of it sleeping.