I’ve been thinking a lot about that saying lately.

I always envisioned motherhood as cozy rainy afternoons doing art projects in the kitchen, and family snuggles in the big bed on Sunday mornings. We would frost cookies and take long bubble baths, and the house would be filled with singing and laughter all day long. Yeah, not so much. I’m finding out that having two kids is less about idyllic little Kodak moments, and way more about damage control. The laughter I envisioned is in reality screaming and whining and goodness gracious somebody get me a valium before my brains spill out all over the counter.

So much of our day depends on our interactions with each other. I don’t have one active preschooler and one snuggly toddler, I have a pair of siblings who drive each other batty and spend the majority of their waking hours locked in a conflict of some kind. They cry and they yell and then, inexplicably, they are suddenly rolling around on the floor giggling. Their relationship makes about as much sense to me as those fortune cookie papers with quotes from Confucius. Individually, all of the words make sense, but put them together and you’ve lost me.

Babs is the “squeaky wheel” in our family. At four years old, she is an energetic, bouncy little enigma. She lives life on a roller coaster of emotions, dipping and spinning at the most unexpected moments. I am a strong believer in Emotional Intelligence, so I view these moments of emotional fluctuation as important learning opportunities for the whole family. So as you can imagine, we are learning all the time.

Zibbit is absolutely enamored with her big sister, and wants to be involved in everything Babs does. This is the cause of much distress to Babs, whose most commonly used phrases are “Don’t touch me!” and “Leave me alone!” Babs is much more vocal about her displeasure than Zibbit is, and as a result often wins more parental intervention. This is an error on our part, and one that I try to be aware of as much as I can. I want to teach her to be an example for her adoring little shadow, but at the same time validate her feelings of frustration. After all, I was an older sister growing up too. I remember what it feels like to have a little monster sister grab your Cabbage Patch Kid and run away with it, then get in trouble for chasing her.

I suppose my question is, how much of my personality is a result of the temperament I was born with, and the environment I was raised in? How is growing up with a sister going to affect who my girls are? How is the way their father and I parent their relationship with each other going to affect the people they become? Ok, so that was three questions. I just want our lives together to be more than damage control. Instead of merely greasing our squeaky wheel, I want to gently guide her down the bumpy path of life until she is strong enough to roll away on her own… and not lose sight of everyone else’s needs in the process!

Oh man. It makes me tired just thinking about it.