He means well.
My two youngest are my greatest bearers of constant combustion of energy at the present time of my life outside of teaching. Like our older three, they hold great love and admiration for one another. However, when egos get in the way, love seemingly subsides. Never having had two boys one after another, there are moments where the calamity of their conflicts feel unbearable.
They will grumble to a point of no return when both are at ends with one another. Interestingly, they have yet to arrive to the understanding that what they grumble about could have been easily resolved if they both had just set their ego aside and actually listened to one another’s perspectives. And yet, and still, they choose to grumble.
A Proverbs verse comes to mind here: “A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”
Funny how negotiations don’t seem to work if both aren’t listening or are willing. The only exchanges to continue between two pairs of unwilling to listen ears are complaints about the other, empowered by their own self-acclaimed goodness, pointing out the other’s lack of. It becomes no longer an issue of who is right, but who will back down first. The battle (must?) thus, continue.
I know this feeling. That sense of power over someone else. Sure. Perhaps, at one moment, it seemed that you were losing the battle. All of a sudden, something occurs where, for whatever the reason, whether they are tired of fighting, have lost already a lot of invested time, or they just don’t want to create anymore damage than what already has been done, the other concedes, making you feel as if you now have been given the upper hand. Instead of lowering down your own guard, at times, sadly, you act even more resilient to resolve any conflict. That false pretense of power you hold onto just a little bit longer.
In that world where satirical moments can be made from even the worst of times, you must do just that for the sake of moving forward from any pain.
Our youngest two are just over a year apart. The older of the two doesn’t seem to take their year difference as a small gap in age. They might as well be minutes apart at birth and the older of the two would take this, still, as more than enough to run with the authority of being older every time he gets a chance. Those remarks like, “You didn’t know that?” Or, “How could you have not known that?” understandably sends the younger one into a whirlwind of crippling emotions.
The next thing I know, the younger, all defenses up, retaliates, not wanting to listen to anything his “older” brother tells him. I can only tell you that these disputes usually continue for several minutes. Any parent who has had to endure the escalating exchanges of verbal defenses to eventually offensive attacks, however, should relate to feeling those minutes as being painstakingly long. One can only take so much more before feeling compelled to intervene.
A mother’s heart, always wanting to fix brokenness, can do nothing else, but come in to scold both for even fighting in the first place. My husband reminds me that the two must learn to work it out. He is absolutely right. This works sometimes and what a feeling of relief it is to hear from another room that both have resettled back to peace and harmony. And then, to great dismay, that time arises when both clearly have not backed down, showing no signs of even making an attempt.
The voices rise and words get uglier. Back and forth, back and forth. The intensity rises and all of a sudden, inevitably, rage erupts. It is when evidence in voice and actions suggest negotiations are not close in range to happening, intervention is a much need.
The older one justifies his actions to be in the right, thinking that he knew what was best for his younger brother. Thus, telling him what he needed to do. The younger brother, wanting to feel grown on his own, expresses desire to think on his own, regardless of whether he is going to stumble or not. The free will to just BE, his older brother clearly struggles to understand and accept. Thus, the older one insists he is in the right and uses that to remind the younger. “You need to listen to me! I’m older than you!”
This is when I, beyond having heard enough, have come in (with great hopes, always, that all the right words come out). Set aside the rise and fall of my aggravated voice, in more or less words, here would be the discourse:
To the younger, “Listen to your brother. He is right. He is older and so you need to respect him. He is only trying to help you do what he thinks is right.”
To the older, “He is not listening to you anymore because you just keep yelling at him and telling him what to do. Who wants to have to listen to that all the time? He just needs you to work with him to find the right. He doesn’t want you to make him feel he is always in the wrong. Who wants to feel that way?”
To the younger, “Your brother cares for your well-being whether you want to deny that or accept it. What he tells you to do is what he thinks is right for you.”
This is usually (if he hasn’t already) when the younger interjects, “He thinks he knows everything! He is always telling me what to do!”
(After reminding the younger to tone down his voice) I tell the younger, “I get that, but he just wants to help.”
“I don’t want his help!” The younger adamantly exclaims.
My response, “You will always need your brother’s help. You guys will only be stronger together.”
To the older, “What you think is right may not be what your brother thinks is right. You have to accept that sometimes.”
To the younger, “When you ignore your brother, acting like you don’t want to hear anything he is trying to tell you- I would get mad, too, if you were ignoring me. That’s just going to make things worse.”
To both, “You two cannot be arguing like this for the rest of your life. It is a waste of time and energy for not just you both, but those who have to hear it, over and over again.”
This is where I find myself ranting about how tired I AM from going over this same conversation over and over, one argument after another. This is when I forewarn quite threateningly (in a mother’s tough-loving way) that should this continue, I will just let them eventually fight it out, just let them beat on each other. It is at this moment where I catch them looking at me and then, at each other. My heart, at that moment, sees two boys who would never want that to happen. In fact, I see the deep concern in both their eyes. This, this tells me that neither want to get to that point and in actuality, their reason for both yelling out loud in the first place was a cue for me to hear them. Cyclically, while neither want to back down first, they desire intervention. Neither really want to make things worse.
When Arguments Rise, those arguing just sometimes need to be told, “Enough is enough.”
It is when my children’s eyes look at me in silence, within the thin line of wanting to surrender to wanting to still be victorious for having won (whatever it was they thought to be fighting for) where I realize perhaps they will never understand how really tired I am of having to deal with their disputes. Exhausted, once again, but needing to see unity and not division, I tell both to say sorry to each other and give each other a hug.
That moment. That moment where I see my children embrace, regardless if both were still seemingly reluctant to do so, it is that very moment where I am given once again, hope. Hope that they will remember that nothing is more important than each other. Desire for unity must always be in front of need for division.
Of course, still annoyed and aggravated, I tell them to each clean their room and not talk until nice words come out. It is at this point where I am in need of a time out.
Accidents happen. However, who dare want a tragic one to take place if it can be prevented? It is a peaceful beauty to see your children stop, look, and listen. Isn’t this what we were taught as children before crossing any road?
When one forgets such golden rule, remember that your brother would say nothing if he cared not.
Listen. If anything, just listen.
