Because he punched me first!

Will this be a quick fix for what we're trying to teach our children, so we won't lose our marbles over the ongoing sibling rivalry between brothers in our home? The full story's below...



This week, my two boys punched each other in the nose! Good thing no bones were broken, but dark red blood was oozing out from one nostril each, that made it look quite a lot worse than a normal nosebleed.

You know, I'm beginning to see a pattern here. Every time I blog about something, no matter how small we've managed to do, or some progress we've made, almost the next instant, the reverse happens. We regress, I regress. It's as though it's a test, a test of my waning patience, especially when it pertains not to my gas-pumping ineptness, but my parenting inabilities. And a reminder in a sense, too, for me not to get complacent, lest I think we have things down pat, for we never really do.

You have heard me lament over what a constant battle our boys' fighting is. They aren't bad kids, and like all good parents, we do not set out to promote violence in or outside our home. But from the moment Ben was born, Jon felt he had to do something to vie for our affection. And for Ben, as soon as he could, just knew he had to speak up for himself, too.

A lot of times, it may just be the slightest thing that sparks off their disagreements. Like it can all start out good, with one wanting to play with the other, but somehow their age difference, their different levels, and different needs, will get in the way.

So, they fight, and fight back -- with cries and protests, tantrums and meltdowns, and some shoving here and there, if not, it's "you mess up what I'm playing with, and I mess up yours!". By and large, seldom physical injuries, mostly, it's their (and my) feelings that end up getting hurt. But bad enough, distressing enough. And if you've been there, you know it can be really unnerving.

So, what triggered the outbursts this time round? "Because he punched me first!", was the answer I got from both Jon and Ben. But I had to believe Jon, because Ben might have been wound up, tired out from a long day. Then again, maybe I ought to give Ben the benefit of the doubt, on the premise that Jon being older should be the more sensible of the two, although that would appear to Jon that I was siding Ben, and definitely elicit a "No fair!" from him. Again.

Of course, had it been my dad in my shoes, I know he would surely have said that both boys were in the wrong. Both deserved to be punished. However, Vern and I were so busy attending to the casualties (and the blood did look a bit serious), I don't remember now, if he or I meted out any immediate punishment.

But the crux of the matter, and if you ask me, among so many things we have to teach our children, this is one of the hardest -- how to love your neighbour (or your brother) as yourself, no matter what.

It's hard enough for us adults, what more for children. Why, my 3 year old still needs to check with us if he's got his shoes on right. Try and tell him the other person being mean to us doesn't give us the right to be mean to him or her. That we should not retaliate, but still be nice, be kind.

A lesson, where better to start than at home, between siblings. (And yes, between bickering spouses also, and I know I need to set a good example myself there, by not having to be the one to have the last word, at least not all the time!). As much as we have to remind our children to be nice to their friends in school. Or strangers, for that matter, that they may unwittingly be caught in a scuffle with, at some park or playground.

But all, always so much easier said than done! The house rules posted on our fridge, during the height of the Nanny 911 programs that haven't been showing for a long time now, clearly state no fighting and everything else that's the opposite of sibling rilvary.

Except that the rules are kind of in our boys' heads, just not entirely in their hearts. I've downplayed the rewards chart though -- also done in Nanny 911 fashion, simply because it was steering one child towards being overly reward-oriented, and not really making a difference with the other who's not quite into (not yet) rewards.

Moments after the bleeding from their noses stopped, Jon went and took out some cheese for himself from the fridge, and took an extra portion for Ben. Another ten minutes later, when I was about to put some chicken into the oven to cook, in walked Ben and he helped himself to a cup of yogurt, and got one for Jon also.

Now, normally, mommies do not like to see their kids snacking away so close to dinner. But I was glad, glad that the boys perhaps remorseful over the hurt they've caused each other, decided to show some concern. Right there and then, I decided to try this trick -- to add a marble to a jar, every time the boys do something that shows they care enough for each other.

It's not a new trick. Mothers have used it, and perhaps you, too. So have teachers. Last year in fact, Jon's teacher had used a similar idea to encourage good behaviour in the class, and when the jar was filled to the brim, the boys and girls got to pick an activity they liked.

And because our marble jar isn't just for good behaviour per se, but good behaviour towards "your brother", I stressed, we went on to call it the "I love my brother" jar! A bit corny, but hey, maybe it'll help?

Jon wrote out the words, and drew a happy sun face, before we taped the label on the empty jam bottle.

There are two marbles in the jar now, and I'm waiting to see how far this age-old trick will go!

What would you have done if you were in my shoes? What works for you to get your kids to stop fighting?