At first, having two kids close together might feel like a curse. I’d heard the stories of young siblings playing with each other, had even witnessed it myself (and EXPERIENCED it myself with my bro), but my two girls . . . they just didn’t have that spark yet. Unless we’re talking about the kind of spark that sets off the fuse to a stick of dynamite.
It makes sense. You get one still-developing little human, driven by needs and wants, in the same vicinity as an even younger still-developing little human with needs and wants, and well, you have a bunch of needs and wants that don’t get along.
It’s maddening for a parent, particularly when the 4-year-old has strong social needs and you’re the only person around deemed a worthy playmate. You try to get her--or even make her at times--play with the 2-year-old, but the result is the 4-year-old on a power trip and the 2-year-old recognizing someone else she can rebel against.
In our temporary housing in Palo Alto, with that tiny little playspace, there was no escape for anyone. My poor emotional world-flipped-upside-down girls couldn’t stand each other. I could count on one hand how many times they played with each other during that entire month. Thank the techies for Netflix.
Then we moved again, and they fought some more.
BUT THEN.
It happened a week ago. We kicked off last week by deciding that, yes, we would enroll Ariana in TK (transitional kindergarten, for kids with birthdays between Sept. 1 - Dec. something). I was skeptical because the closest school that has TK in our district is 10 minutes away, which would leave me with two 20-minute trips five days a week. And there’s not even a guarantee that she’ll be placed at that school.
But TK is free, it’d be super good for her, she’s aching for social interaction and daily learning and the preschool out here is like a bajillion bucks per month (for TWO days a week even!) so she’s not in preschool, so on and so forth, so we decided to give it a try.
This set in motion a rush to print paperwork and fill it out, fill it out online again and print that out, get her to a dentist and pediatrician asap, and get to the homeschool to register her. Her chance at being placed at the school 10 minutes away is first come first served, so a desire to hurry made it all stressful. The process was ridiculous and inefficient, and going to any medical person with all three kids in tow is also stressful for me, and I had to do it two days in a row.
ANYWAY. During that insane week, something magical happened.
Ariana and Brielle played . . . together. For hours. All day. They didn’t ask to watch a show once. They hardly cried or hit, and half the time they did, they somehow worked it out. For hours, I say! I was stunned. Grateful beyond belief, yes, but stunned. Now imagine my shock when they did it again the next day, and the next and the next. There’s still been the hard moments of course, like Ariana just wanting Brielle’s toy oh so badly, or like Brielle hitting Ari when she’s frustrated. But those moments no longer dominate their playtime.
When they play, Ariana is oblivious of me. On the last day of the school madness, Daddy stayed home while I left to register her at school, and she barely acknowledged me because she was playing with Brielle. That’s not the typical sobbing girl who usually hates when Mommy leaves her behind.
They play with their food together . . .
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| Observe. |
They play first thing in the morning together while I slowly wake up and put my clothes on in peace. I tell Brielle she can play one more time before naptime, and Ariana wants to make sure, “Can she play with me one more time?” Then she and Brielle say goodnight every time before Brielle takes her nap.
And while Brielle’s napping, Ariana sets her sights on me the entire time: “Mommy, come play with me!” and I go, “Good grief, where’s Brielle?”
This epic playing between them has changed my life. Oh, and that’s not even counting all the playing they do with Levi. I love the love!
