Fighting Children
Do your kids fight? As many of you know, I have two girls. My
oldest is Kari. She's the one with type one diabetes. She's 11
now. My youngest is Kristin. She's 9. Although she's two years
younger, she's bigger and taller than her older sister. This
isn't the reason for the fights, it just makes them more intense
and last longer. If they were chewing gum that would be a good
thing. The fact that all of this happens on my last nerve makes
it unbearable.
Now fortunately most of these fights aren't fistfights. Although
in a fistfight there is a clear winner and loser. When it's over
it's over. Not so when girls fight. It goes on forever. One of
Kari's symptoms of both low and high blood sugar is weepiness.
Some days it seems all she does is cry. It breaks my heart. Not
so with her sister. At least it's no so after Kari is feeling
better. For no apparent reason other than the fact that the sun
is shining Kristin will start in on her sister. "You're a
crybaby, all you ever do is cry". Have you ever heard a little
girl growl? I mean actually growl like an angry grizzly bear.
Kari has a growl when she's mad. I pity the fool who marries
her. He had better have the courage of the Crocodile Hunter and
the agility of an Olympic gymnast.
I overheard this little commotion the other day. Kristin:
"You're a crybaby" Kari: "GRRRRRRRR" Kristin: "All you ever do
is cry" Kari: SMACK! Kristin: "Waaa, daddy! Kari hit me for no
reason"
As Kristin comes wailing down the hallway, I have to compose
myself, wipe the smirk off my face, and pretend that some
horrible injustice may have just occurred. After some pointed
questioning it becomes apparent that Kristin basically asked for
it and her sister was only too happy to oblige. As I send her on
her way with absolutely no sympathy whatsoever, I know that this
is just the beginning. Pretty soon at that end of the house I
hear all kinds of yelling, doors swinging open and then slamming
shut after various accusations are thrown back and forth and
finally the long awaited screams of "I hate you... I hate you
too", and then the final slam of each door.
Now don't get me wrong, Kristin is not always the aggressor.
Actually she usually has a sweeter, quieter temperament than her
sister. It's not too uncommon that first thing in the morning, I
mean they haven't even seen each other for a whole night, and
Kristin will walk out of her room and Kari will say something,
anything, it could just be "your hair is sticking up", anything
she knows will set Kristin off at the crack of dawn, and the two
of them are at it. I don't let them eat breakfast together
anymore. One eats while the other showers.
Now to listen to these two you would think they hated each
other. Actually I think sometimes they do, but God help the poor
dope (me) who gets after one of them in front of the other.
Yesterday morning right before its time to leave for school,
Kari informs me that she doesn't have her meter. Even better,
she hasn't had it all week. She left it at a friend's house on
Monday. She then proceeds to let me know that it's all my fault
because she told me on Monday and I didn't do anything about it.
To top it all off she's out of strips for her backup meter. The
volume between us rises quickly as I let her know she never told
me any such thing and I know she had it on Tuesday because I was
up all night monitoring her 500+ blood sugars that wouldn't come
down with the very meter in question. That brought us quickly to
my pet peeve, the condition of her room. "Your meter is probably
in that pigsty you live in" I reasonably offered as a solution
at the top of my lungs". Not to be outdone she loudly protested
her innocence and the fact she was an unwitting victim of some
Soviet plot to overthrow our American way of life.
As I was drawing my next huge lung-full of air so I could
continue this sober and reasoned debate, I become aware of
Kristin storming down the hallway with the look of murder in her
eyes and surely mayhem in her heart. I had forgotten and broken
one of the cardinal rules they both lived by. Nobody is mean to
my sister unless it's me. This little nine year old girl who
barely comes up to the middle of my chest planted herself
between her sister and me and let me know in no uncertain terms
that my aggressive posture and loud tone would not be tolerated
for one more second and if I knew what was good for me I would
turn it down and smarten up post haste.
I looked at Kristin, I looked at Kari, I shut my mouth, and I
smartened up post haste. I wasn't going to win this one no how,
no way. As it turned out she had left her meter at her mother's
who was only too happy to keep the girls while I attended a
meeting Wednesday night. Not only that but she had the foresight
to bring the meter to work with her that morning so I could trot
right over there and pick it up.
I know that had the tables been turned and it was Kristin and me
getting into it, Kari would have been there to defend her sister
to the death as well. I still don't understand how two people,
whose mission in life appears to be to make the other as
miserable as possible, can love each other so much. I just thank
God that it is so.