I don't know exactly when it started, but a few months ago, I started to notice that little Munchkin would help her big brother with something and say to him, "I got you." Or Munchkin would hesitate with something and Monkey would come to her side and say, "I got you." While Monkey has always been the helpful big brother, Munchkin has started to return the favor as the ingenious little sister. She helps Monkey find toys and sneakily get snacks from the pantry. The two often run off to giggle under the cover of cardboard box tunnels and breathe secrets into cupped hands pressed to little ears. There has has been a gradual transformation from two little individuals to one devious hysterical unit.
I too was part of a two-person team growing up. My twin sister Pamela and I have two older sisters and a brother who are close in age to each other but much older than us. Since my siblings all left for college by the time Pamela and I were nine years old, we were left to our devices. We played together--and fought often--but operated as one. We had systems dictating who got to make decisions that affected both of us (like which television show we watched in our one-TV household) who prepared our breakfast while the other packed our lunch and even who had to get off the bunk bed to turn off the light at night,
There were times we got angry at each other, but Pamela always had my back and I hers. I have always wished that feeling--that knowledge that someone would always be at my side--upon my children and it is incredible to see it unfold. At camp, the teachers have told me how they care for each other with gentle hugs. Today at daycare Munchkin woke up from her nap and, teary-eyed, asked for Monkey. When I asked her why she cried after nap, she said, "I wanted my brother." At home I hear the kids console each other, often using the nicknames they've made for each other. When Munchkin cries, Monkey goes to her and says, "Nana, estas bien?" When Monkey is sad, Munchkin strokes his arm and tells him, "It's okay Dadao.
I do my best to foster a strong and open relationship with my kids. I share their greatest joys and listening to their deepest fears. I teach them to empathize with each other and make them look into each other's eyes to apologize for whatever pain--be it emotional or physical, accidental or intentional--they've caused one another.
At ages two and five, Munchkin and Monkey want to confide in me, however I know that they will share childhood experiences from a viewpoint I'll never have. They're the ones who'll whisper into the night as tweens and complain about their parents as teenagers. They'll be the ones making late night calls to each other during college and making plans for great adventures for years to come.
I know that there may be episodes of both rivalry and harmony in their relationship, but I want them to be the best friends that "I got you" implies they can be.
Yesterday, Monkey and Munchkin were playing together in their room when I came in, hands up like an attacking dinosaur, roaring. They laughed and screamed as I stomped around the bedroom. As I tickled Munchkin, Monkey tackled me, pushed me away and yelled to his sister, "Run!!" Off they went together to hide and play some more.
Yeah, I think they've got the sibling bonding thing down pat.
There were times we got angry at each other, but Pamela always had my back and I hers. I have always wished that feeling--that knowledge that someone would always be at my side--upon my children and it is incredible to see it unfold. At camp, the teachers have told me how they care for each other with gentle hugs. Today at daycare Munchkin woke up from her nap and, teary-eyed, asked for Monkey. When I asked her why she cried after nap, she said, "I wanted my brother." At home I hear the kids console each other, often using the nicknames they've made for each other. When Munchkin cries, Monkey goes to her and says, "Nana, estas bien?" When Monkey is sad, Munchkin strokes his arm and tells him, "It's okay Dadao.
I do my best to foster a strong and open relationship with my kids. I share their greatest joys and listening to their deepest fears. I teach them to empathize with each other and make them look into each other's eyes to apologize for whatever pain--be it emotional or physical, accidental or intentional--they've caused one another.
At ages two and five, Munchkin and Monkey want to confide in me, however I know that they will share childhood experiences from a viewpoint I'll never have. They're the ones who'll whisper into the night as tweens and complain about their parents as teenagers. They'll be the ones making late night calls to each other during college and making plans for great adventures for years to come.
I know that there may be episodes of both rivalry and harmony in their relationship, but I want them to be the best friends that "I got you" implies they can be.
Yesterday, Monkey and Munchkin were playing together in their room when I came in, hands up like an attacking dinosaur, roaring. They laughed and screamed as I stomped around the bedroom. As I tickled Munchkin, Monkey tackled me, pushed me away and yelled to his sister, "Run!!" Off they went together to hide and play some more.
Yeah, I think they've got the sibling bonding thing down pat.
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