Estimated read time: 3-4 minutes
This archived news story is available only for your personal, non-commercial use. Information in the story may be outdated or superseded by additional information. Reading or replaying the story in its archived form does not constitute a republication of the story.
SALT LAKE CITY — It was just before bedtime and I heard a rustling downstairs, followed by a shallow cry. The cry was not of toddler origin; it was deeper, yet squeakier. I recognized the sound immediately. It was my tween-aged son who had gotten injured in the tussle.
I listened for a few more seconds as the muffled cry (muffled because of all the emotion being sucked back into his insides) turned into a retaliation of angry words directed at another son of mine.
As I stood atop the stairs, I debated whether or not I should go downstairs. Part of me wanted to see if the situation would diffuse on its own, and another (more prideful) part wanted to make my "mom presence" known.
My pride tipped the scales and down the stairs I went.
Immediately, I knew that I had made the wrong decision when I found myself in the middle of a near-diffused situation that escalated rapidly. It was as if I was the stir stick to wake up the embers, or the oxygen to bring new life into a dying bonfire. My children now had someone to yell their respective sides of the story to, when before, they only had themselves to bounce their flame-filled words off of.
"He hit me with a pillow even after I told him not to," one accused.
"He sat on my face," the other recounted.
"He threw me off of him and I landed on my shoulder," the first accusatory son rebutted.
But that wasn't all. There was a witness.
"I saw the whole thing, and he started it," the witness verified, pointing at the pillow-flinging teenager.
I didn't have to say a word; merely being there was enough. I wanted to leave, but I was now part of it. There was no escape.
"You both acted badly," I said, trying not to take sides. "Just apologize and move on."
Knowing full well that wasn't going to happen, I cut my losses and went back upstairs, hoping that taking myself out would cause the tension to loosen. Alas, I had underestimated the power of my aura, because it apparently lingered pretty thick even when I was gone.
More unpleasantries were exchanged as my two sons parted ways for the night (one deciding to sleep on the couch).
Not wanting either of my sons to go to bed angry, I decided that I would take a few minutes to approach the situation separately. After all, one flaming coal can't ignite with the tiniest bit of oxygen, right?
To put it simply, I successfully re-ignited two roaring campfires on separate sides of the house that smoldered through the night, only to wake up to a string of hot spots I had to tiptoe around all morning.
Moral of the story: Sometimes it's best to let sibling fights resolve themselves — and thankfully, it's not only I who has come to this conclusion. In a recent article published in The Atlantic, it was noted that sibling rivalry is very natural. And a study conducted by psychologist Laurie Kramer shows that parental intervention in older children arguments is less effective than in younger children.
There you have it! Once again, trial, error and research have proved one of my parenting techniques to be ineffective.
Have you learned a similar lesson as a parent? Tell us about it in the comments.
More from Arianne Brown:
Being there to hear about your child's first kiss opens doors to be there when they really need you
Recently, my oldest son had his first kiss and told me all about it. This was a moment I had worked hard to earn, and a privilege I don't take lightly — because, being there to hear about your child's first kiss opens doors to be there when they really need you.
