Saturday, March 2


Sibling bond is possibly the most complicated emotions among young children - they love and hate each other at the same time. Although sibling rivalry is not an everyday scene in my home, my children certainly play a huge part in bringing out the worst in each other, especially when they spent a significant amount of time together.

I can't remember when exactly it started, but I do know it was shortly after Leonitus metamorphosed into a challenging two years old. My relationship with my daughter took on a different chapter. I had diverted majority of my attention at my two years old and had slowly, but surely, detached myself from my elder daughter.

Even at such a tender, my daughter seems to have a grasp of the circumstances within our family and had evaluated her role to play. She began to make some conscious choices. She assigned Leonitus to me and herself to her father. Whenever possible, she would 'remind me' that my 'disloyalty' to her has a price to pay by choosing his father over me, in an openly manner.

I wish I could say, it hadn't affect me, but I can't. For months, things would look fine on the surface, when there was an unspoken discord brewing inside me, which eventually led me to force myself to give more attention to my little girl. I was trying to focus on her, but it seemed all wrong, when all I could see was her  negative side. 

The more conflicted I felt, the more I found myself yelling at my kids and punishing them. I had to even admit that some of my demands of them weren't quite reasonable nor age-appropriate. For my daughter, the sensitive one, of my two, her feelings were wounded. 

By reining her in so tightly, I was pushing her further away from me. There will be times, I wanted to hug her close, like I used to, but there was so much guilt in me, that I was afraid to do it without appearing hypocritical. My invisible inner turmoil, that nobody knew, was wrecking the bond I shared with my daughter.

Just when everything already looked so gloom, my little girl fell sick on my birthday. It was some viral fever that kept her down for close to a week.

During which, we got to spend some time together, without my two years old, or her daddy, just the two of us. She was not her usual hyper and chatty self, which made it easier for me to see her in a different light, and to have a chance to reconnect with her on an emotional level. With the thought of her burning at an unusually high temperature, my facade crumbled away and my maternally compassion took over.

As I stared at her sleeping, a sudden profound thought hit me. I took a good and honest look at myself; my tears welled up. I had allowed this monster in my head to rule me. My imaginary fear of favouring one child over another had stressed me up and made me impatient. I was harbouring unrealistic expectation of my girl; for I wanted her to grow up in a haste and understand that I did what I had to do for the good of her and her brother. I wasn't allowing her to mature in her own span of time. My crazy pursuit of that perfect daughter had suffocated our relationship. The problem has always been me, never her.

It's time I let go of the rein that I had been holding on so tightly. It's more important for me to be able to look her in the eyes and tell her that I love her no lesser than her brother or anybody else, than for her to understand what my words truly mean. 

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