Two obnoxious children and one mom in Miami

Every morning in our family was exceptionally bright. Four positive people woke up, basked, hugged, went out onto the balcony to stretch, yawn and meet the good sun. I kissed their sleepy eyes to the children, asked what they wanted more - pancakes or an omelet. It took a long time. About four minutes. And then suddenly, like a tropical storm, the invigorating life of the parents of two unbearable guys fell on us like a stream of water, forcing us to run, not walk, loud as a firecracker.

- Mother Mother!!! Look, I throw my brother on the sofa! Oh, missed ...

At that moment I flew from the kitchen with a spatula, on which a pancake hung, to save the younger son, but in our house the score went on for seconds.

- Ahhh, mom! - shouted the Kid, who just a few seconds ago trusted his brother with all his heart.

- Yo Mama! - rumbled favorite.

- Calm, only calm. The kid does not cry, Favorite do not yell, Small - better hide somewhere.

Had one of them been a girl — I muttered softly later under my breath — it would have been easier. Okay, let there be two boys. But then if it were a little older, it would be easier. Eh, age can and nothing else - but Small would not be such an owner. We need to work with this, talk, talk about it for another five years and it will become easier. That would have been a kid easier - but so in fact not, the character is worse than Small ... Maybe it would be easier if there were three children ??? If I myself would be a big, huge, loud, strong woman, it would definitely be easier ... ..

- Mom, take him away! He bothers me! Step march, Baby, from my room! - shouted Small, having accompanied the brother with a kick.

- No kicks! Prohibited! The room is shared.

- I do not like him, he bothers me.

“Aaaaaaaaa,” the annoyed Kid yelled, holding my hand tightly, leading me along.

The next day I was standing in the director's office. The kid gives everyone kicks.

The reasons for the rivalry between brothers and sisters were very subtly noted in the book “Siblings without Rivalry”Where the appearance of the youngest child in the house was compared with the appearance of the second wife. What would I do with her if she had climbed into my computer from the very morning and disturbed her sleep? What would I do with her, if even at that moment, when I shared my sorrows with my husband, she would raise a loud tantrum and lead him along. I would hate her silently and imagine before roasting how I roast on a spit. And what would Favorite do if I bring a second husband? Whoa, scary to think. And if he would climb into his computer and break his stuff? Male aggression would hardly have turned into creaking teeth. It would be a loud daily brawl in which the words “well, you are brothers, and should love each other, protect” would sound only a catalyst for anger. The authors of the book urged not to chastise the eldest child, but to give him the opportunity to express his displeasure with words, to share sorrow and annoyance.

Friendship among the boys appeared, looked through, like the rays of the sun, but only at the moment when they lifted the house upside down. They jumped on the beds, threw pillows, ran, shouted, made a fuss. The kid, who not so long ago, in principle, began to stand on his feet, was a head shorter than Small, and three years younger, was just flint, and his spirit grew stronger. He was not only not afraid of his brother, but he himself provoked fights, climbed to him, checked his limits of patience just as the children of their parents check. Petty could not bear the idea at these moments to say “No, this is not possible” to the Kid, but this was what we taught him to, having intercepted a fist. What Minor had to master was difficult even for an adult, namely, control over his strongest feelings and their expression with words, and not with a cry.

At this moment in our apartment there were no sharp corners left unglued, no pictures hung on the walls, no flowers stood in pots, there were no coffee tables and furniture that could be knocked down or turned around. My husband and I were divided. He believed that wild games at home should be stopped to avoid injuries. I thought that since the guys have at least some common games, they cannot be canceled, but they need to be secure. In the end, it cost them to make a fuss, as I appeared. Lucy Zaichkina. Meet again - goalkeeper, defender and referee.

- Lucy, your stupid curtains to the good will not bring. They will bring down the eaves.

- Do not touch the curtains, this is the last woman that is left in me!

I could endlessly conduct a similar broadcast from hot spots. But I decided to put together something that somehow helped me, like the mother of two guys:

- Every evening before bedtime, we would say his fine day with Melky. Everything that looked like useless comments from an angry mother during the day was absorbed in the evening. It was a time when he heard me. And almost a daily topic was such a difficult comprehensible concept as mercy.

- Sadik. Since the younger brother began to go to “work” with a backpack, he melted away a little, as if he felt that they were in the same boat.

- From time to time I came to the kindergarten early to pick up only Small. I did this on purpose to pay attention to him, to be alone and live by his interests. We called it “Mom Day” and planned it in advance. It was Petty's idea to take a yellow convertible for a drive. These minutes were worth it - you had to see his eyes full of joy, how cool you can spend time with your mother. These days, he turned into a calm, kind, sympathetic boy, seeing whom, people would say - what a smart girl!

- Played hide and seek at home. For some reason, children played with pleasure in the team against mom with this game.

- Often they called friends with children to visit or went to visit themselves. The children, as soon as there were more than two of them, miraculously united, and the atmosphere was discharged.

“When nothing worked and chaos, screaming, fighting and hysterics arose at home — I planted Small to draw or do homework. He switched, calmed down, and at that time I sat down to read books to the Kid.

- The boys loved to workout with my mother. And together they rocked the press, squatted, tumbled and danced to the music from “Trolls”.

- If I started to feel that I would soon explode myself - I included cartoons and poured oatmeal to everyone on a plateau. Even if only the Kid requested the flakes of the two, there were still two identical plates. She herself fell out of their field of vision, sat on the floor in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, and tried to catch her breath, calm down and return to them after five minutes of adequate.

In my heart I dreamed that the days would come when we could draw together, sculpt together, read the same book before bedtime, sit quietly at the table. Did I have it now? Not! They ran away from me on the street, they grabbed my hands and pulled me in different directions, one with a cry, the other with tears. One scattered pencils when he wanted to draw another, and if one wanted to build, then the other would break it. But it was not every day, not every minute. And from time to time everything calmed down, the children played each peacefully in their own, and I had an elegant feeling in my soul - how cool it is that there are two of them. And how great it is that they are still so small!

Toward evening, we again became each ourselves. Again went to the balcony.

- Munya! - the Kid admired the moon, and I kissed their sleepy eyes and put them to bed.