Ouch.

The kids get along great when they're
watching TV! (During our long week
of sickness.)

My children's new favorite hobby is beating up on each other. It took me a while to be able to say this out loud: first, because I was in denial, second, because I didn't think this could happen to two sweet little girls (they ARE sweet, I promise!), and third, because I thought it was a stage and they'd grow out of it. But it's now officially not a stage, or at least a little one, so I have to try to fix it.

And it's gotten bad. The one time today when Elise wasn't trying to hit Kalina, they hugged. I happened to be wheeling them around Hobby Lobby in a shopping cart, and everyone around rushed for their cameras. I would've too, except I had to have my hands handy in case the beatings began again.

Poor Kalina, who has to be the "big girl" in this situation, is bearing the brunt of the attacks. At first, Elise only hit out of intense frustration, for lack of scalding words to pour onto the situation, or strength to grab back the toy kazoo that had been yanked out of her hands. But more recently, she's resorted to random acts of terror, stride-by boppings and unprovoked smacks right onto her sister's head. Her aim is impeccable. The only thing that saves the day is the fact that she's not big enough to actually hurt anyone. Poor Kalina, though--it's no fun to be the object of a 1 1/2-year-old's wrath when you're not much older.

New, engaging activity: oobleck!
It's cornstarch and water, so
Elise was allowed to dunk
her crackers in it.

And yet, as much as I'm tempted to, I certainly can't allow the bigger girl to retaliate in kind. Kalina prefers kicking over hitting, or subtly stepping on Elise (or trying to), which can truly cause injury (not to mention a poor outlook for future relationships). We talk about how we really don't want to send Elise to the hospital (or, at least, Mommy doesn't), and how Kalina can simply walk away. But what if Elise has got Lamby in a headlock and Kalina is  also not allowed to grab things out of Elise's hands? Then we call for Mommy to sort things out, but even a full-grown human would get tired of this arrangement.

Nearly constant vigilance on Mommy's part has gotten us through the week with no major injuries. But what about next week? And the week after?

Yesterday while Kalina was in preschool (and loving it!), I mentioned my dilemma to another mom with two girls with a similar age difference. I really like her. She's very nice. And here were her strategies:

Oobleck, by the way, does
NOT keep for a week or
two in a Tupperware.
At all.

1. Discipline by hugging: Almost any problem behavior can be cured with enough hugs. The bigger the better.
2. While her girls were younger (they're 4 and 6 now), her mom came over and they were each able to follow around one girl and divert any conflicts or behavioral issues, all day, from the sounds of things.
3. There's always an underlying issue. And you can always address it positively if you work hard enough.

Neither of these tactics fits my parenting philosophies of:
1. Mommy can only do so much, and the rest is age-accordingly up to you.
2. If you're naughty too much, people can and will get a bit grumpy: this is a natural consequence.
3. We will work through any underlying issues together. But you're still not allowed to repeatedly get away with bad behavior.
4. Hugging is not a discipline method. But there will still be lots of hugs given out.

Despite the occasional retaliation, Kalina has demonstrated remarkable patience and restraint with Elise's new hobby. More so than her mommy, in fact--possibly because she doesn't have it hanging over her head that if she doesn't correct this, she'll be receiving angry text messages about her daughter the bully throughout the next 10 years. The 3-year-old does not yet run from the room when her sister makes an entrance, but she should probably consider doing so in the near future. And she's now only kicking back when she's really tired or frustrated, which I can pretty much live with. Oh, and Elise is more or less banned from Kalina's room, but that's okay, too, if it makes Kalina feel better about her new domestic situation.

So how to deter Elise? I've tried:

1. As every parenting resource recommends, saying "No!" firmly and removing Elise. What happens? Elise head bangs and hits herself, purposely hurting herself to get attention. There is no solution for this.
2. Following the kids around and distracting them with new, engaging activities. This works for about 30 minutes, at which point, it being January and cold, we run out of new, engaging activities.
3. Keeping the girls as separate as possible considering the second-favorite activity of each is sitting on my lap, within fists' reach of each other if they have to share it, and occupying my full attention. Sometimes I use their carseats to separate them, and we go out somewhere.
4. Teaching both about positive forms of touch, including tickles and light pats (not to be confused with hitting). This has been highly successful for Kalina, who has decided that Elise's hits are actually pats since they don't really hurt, and has been tickling Elise a lot. Do I leave it at that?
5. Hugging. Okay, I'll admit it. It worked for neither girl, unless I was using the hug to physically restrain Elise (she soon wriggled out).

Interestingly, Matt's idea of dumping water over Elise in the bathtub this evening when Elise wouldn't quit hitting Kalina (and yet neither girl was clean enough to get out, yet) has proven to be the most successful arrangement. Tomorrow, I'm going to try growling at her.

I should be enjoying every moment of mommyhood, I know, but this is a toughy. On the bright side:
1. Kalina is pretty incredible. Not only is she often still sweet to her sister, but she drew her first picture of a person today! And scribbled over it.
2. Elise "cooked" Play-Doh today for about 30 minutes straight while Kalina drew the aforementioned picture.
3. They hugged in a shopping cart in front of strangers. Maybe hugging kind of works after all?

A growing list of demands

Christmas dinner #2, with Mommy's
side of the family!

Every day as I put Elise down for her nap, Kalina plays quietly in her room as she waits for her own story and snuggle. And almost every day, she needs me for something during this 10-minute period of time--possibly to re-dress one of her Calico Critters, help her blow her nose, or find a missing toy. So she emerges from her imaginary world and comes to find me in the real one, and today, it went like this:

Kalina sneaks quietly into Elise's room holding all the bedding from the bunk beds she/Lamby received for Christmas. This includes two "mattresses," a comforter and a pillow. 

The 3-year-old: "Lamby spit up all over her bedding and we need to wash it in the washing machine.

The whole family attended
Christmas morning #2!

Me: "Sure, okay." Thinking fast. "Why don't you find something in your room you can use for a washing machine?"

Kalina: "No, I want you to put it in the real washing machine."

Me: "Um." Initially stumped, but triumphant, with: "How about you put it at the top of the stairs and I'll wash it for you during your downtime?"

Kalina: "Okay. The real washing machine." Just in case I was confused.

I couldn't finish poor Elise' story without cracking up. After I returned downstairs, I folded it nicely on the couch and hoped Kalina would be fooled.

This describes our house lately, as we're as infested with germs as we are with requests.

Elise got the hang of unwrapping.

Elise, on the other hand, has very little language to make her demands known, but manages to anyway, occasionally without screams. She uses her pointer finger, emphatic grunts, and the occasional first syllable of a word to let us know exactly what she wants. 

Elise: Points at brownie pan. Points at her own mouth. "MMMMMM!!!" she states, almost toppled by her enthusiasm. After she regains her balance, her eyes pierce mine and I'm allowed one second to respond favorably before she either repeats herself, even more emphatically, or screams and writhes on the floor.

What do you think she wants? And how does she know that brownies are delicious? And will she survive the tantrum if I tell her that no, she may not have one?

Lamby gets tucked into her/Kalina's
new bunk beds.

Some of Elise's requests leave no room for misinterpretation, which is unfortunate because the little girl does not yet understand that comprehension does not mean they will be granted. The answer to, "Can I please put the battery in my mouth right now?" will still be a very firm "no, but look over here at this really cool toy giraffe!" even when Elise can ask the question perfectly in three different languages. Comprehension makes squat worth of difference.

On the other hand, some of Kalina's requests are reasonable, politely spoken and humanly possible. "Now it's my turn to play with the toy," said Kalina sweetly in the car the other day about a mini slinky that I'd handed a weary Elise to keep her happy on the way home. (This technique rarely works, but the way, but in this instance, it had.)

Elise uses her new tools to help Daddy
build a new squirrel manger.

Yes, Sweetie it is your turn. But I'm not sure I can dig up a more exciting toy to distract Elise with, wrest the slinky from Elise's grip, hand it to you and endure the rage the follows in the space of even a very long stoplight. In one of those super-mom moments that never would've happened last week in my never-ending head cold/sleepless night semi-coma, I instead managed to distract Kalina and the subject was dropped.

Both girls can be mightily specific in what they'd like, topped only by some celebrities. For instance, after brushing Elise's teeth the other night, she demanded a drink of water, just like Big Sister. "Duh," she insisted, pointing at a paper cup.

Kalina and Uncle Tom both helped
Angela a good deal with the puzzle.

Not entirely a newbie at this whole parenting thing anymore, I filled the cup with about 1/4 inch of water, enough for a toddler-sized swig, and handed it over, draping us both in a towel because bathtime, which we'd just finished, gets me wet enough already. Elise grinned at it, took a sip, and asked for more ("Mo-oh," with the emphasis on the word's second syllable). Since the child had proven herself responsible with 1/4 inch, I doubled her amount and handed it back. More grins and a giggle followed--and then a demand for even more water, without drinking what she'd had. We went through this a couple more times, me continuing to add water because by now I was intrigued and amused, and still somewhat protected by a fluffy towel. Finally, when the cup was 2/3 full, the baby had received what she'd been hoping for: apparently, a paper cup 2/3 full of water. She smiled gleefully at it for a good long while before I convinced her she'd be even happier in her jammies and off to bed.

Touring the transportation museum.

Elise puts in a good showing for a 1-year-old, but I don't think anyone can top a 3-year-old's specific requests. Kalina once spent a good 10 minutes telling me how to take care of a stuffed cow and a stuffed kitten while she went upstairs to get Lamby. I was to hold them if they cried, which they might do while she's gone, and not walk away, and feed the cow grass if it got hungry, and myriad other things that I have now forgotten (but don't tell Kalina, lest I not be asked to babysit anymore). Anyone who's ever watched either of my kids for me knows where she gets this from.

And then there are the things I'm demanded to avoid doing. "I'm going to fix a bowl of ice cream for everyone!" I might announce indulgently, gathering up our play ice cream. "No, because Lamby ate all the ice cream and now she wants to save the rest in the freezer, and the kittens can't have ice cream because they are full, and Lamby is using all the bowls for milk for the kittens," might be the response, which undoubtedly makes sense to someone. Alright, no one gets any ice cream, I guess. My mistake.

Kalina in the navigator's seat of a
train (which she preferred to the driver's seat).

My favorite, though, is they turn my demands back at me. "Kalina, will you please empty the silverware from the dishwasher?" I ask. "I'll do it after you read me this book," she replies. She's picked up on a parenting technique I use, and has the smarts to use it against me. Fortunately, I'm more persistent, and my logic is a bit more developed. An, "I'll read the book after the silverware is emptied," springs Kalina into action, and I've won. Or wait...has she? I would've read the book anyway, right? Of course I would've.

Mostly, my girls' requests are all in good fun--but they keep me on my toes. After all, how is a mommy supposed to wash a sinkfull of dishes when she's being called away every 30 seconds to search for a toy banana, help someone pretend a sock is a mitten, help clean up discarded crayon wrappers, retrieve a book from behind a toy oven, hold Lamby because she'll cry if she's set down, so my to-do list grows exponentially even as I work at it. And yet, I can't say that the banana, sock/mitten, crayon wrappers, book and Lamby aren't as important as my dishes. I guess that's what makes motherhood such a demanding job to begin with.