The Bickering Siblings

When I was a child, living at home with my parents, me and my sisters fought. We bickered and taunted each other. We pulled hair, scratched, bit, punched and kicked. The older we got, the worse the fighting got.

I remember our mother yelling. A lot. She told us to stop bickering and annoying each other. She confiscated toys, took away TV and punished us in every way she could. In fact I remember getting a clip around the ear once or twice. 

Dad was never one to yell but when he did we knew we were in trouble. I say “yell” but he didn’t do that, he spoke sternly. His deep voice and calm tone told you you’d been naughty.

Fast forward 25 years…

I am the mother. I have school-runs, after-school clubs and play dates to organise. Daily chores, a husband who works at home; sometimes it can get overwhelming. When I fetch the boys from school I brace myself for the daily fighting. From the moment they get together the bickering starts.

We live 5 minutes drive from school but by the time we get home I have heard enough and am ready to pull out my hair. But at home the bickering gets worse, it becomes fighting. Then inevitably someone ends up in tears and I yell. Lots. The hubby stays quiet most of the time, unless it’s necessary.

Now that I’m the parent with bickering children I understand why my parents got so angry. It was the fact that we wound each other up for fun even though it would irritate our parents. It was the constant to-and-fro and the whiny complaints.

Being a parent makes me appreciate what a hard job my parents had.