Pictures like this are quite deceiving. It takes a lot of begging, sometimes bribing, and at least 50 snaps of the shutter to get just one picture like this. You should have heard her protest when I asked her to put her arm around him.
Sometimes I walk away defeated.
The more mature older my kids get, the worse asking them to do anything within the vicinity of the other becomes. What do I expect putting together a Tween Tyrant and a Tenacious Tigger? I know! I'm doomed to walk through fire, while they expect me to walk on water, no matter what the scenario. With this mix (that's right, think oil + water), nothing will be calm or easy dull.
In one corner we have Tween Tyrant. She's a beautiful girl trying to adjust to the raging emotions of puberty, the maliciousness of middle school girls, and the embarrassment of the gym class locker room. Her internal battle has become external... with mom and anyone else in striking distance. She wants to be kind and good, but can't see how through all the disappointment and disgust of an ordinary life. I thought about nicknaming her Gloomy Gus for the sake of this blog, but I'm not going to saddle her with such a negative label. She's strong and she'll be fine on the other side of this tween/teen/angst phase (although I may not survive the here and now to see it).
In the other corner is Tenacious Tigger. He's neurologically-different, bouncy to a fault, and just wants to be everybody's friend. Everybody except Tween Tyrant, of course. He's obstinate and has zero control of his impulses. But he's also the kindest little boy I've ever met, with an enormous heart and, already at the age of just 8, a real lady's man boy. He too will grow to find his place in this world, despite his different abilities, and be happy and successful (again, hopefully I survive his childhood to see it).
Every day they enter this boxing ring of life with siblings. Each wants the crowd to cheer for them and each thinks they need to eliminate their opponent to make it happen. So they throw punches and sneer and growl in an effort to win over the sole affection of the crowd.
I'm on the sidelines, coaching them both and urging them to take up a different fight. They need to re-allocate all this energy for a more positive cause. But they can't hear me over the war of growing up that has waged in their consciences.
Tonight their little cousin is here for a sleep-over. A rare treat that only happens a couple times a year. Detailed Darling is an only child and I can always see a look of confusion on her face when Tween Tyrant and Tenacious Tigger begin throwing punches. She can't choose sides because she loves them both and that means she can't understand why they treat the other the way they do either. I think she's happy to go back to her peaceful house after a few hours at ours.
Hopefully she always leaves without battle scars.
I won't tell her that her mom and I boxed the sibling match when we were girls.
