I love the warmer weather, but unfortunately when the kids were younger, it came with its own set of problems. The A/C in my van didn't work, it was OK during the winter with the windows closed and the radio turned up, other motorists can't hear the screeching and hollering that goes on inside the vehicle - my children don't just fight at home, we have take out service too. In the summer with the windows open, it was a whole different story.
Usually, the fights began in the driveway before they are buckled up and chained down. Unfortunately once we are on the move, they know I'm powerless to stop the altercation, and my threat of "Someone is going to get hurt, and I'm going to do the hurting" usually falls on deaf ears.
Take this one particular evening for instance, I have to drive Lindsay to work, Rob isn't home yet, so the younger two have to come along for the ride. We are still in the driveway, in fact I haven't even put the key in the ignition, when in the rear-view mirror, I notice Sid disappearing over the middle row of seats and start wailing on her brother who is sitting in the back. I try to keep them separated for a reason. The next thing I know Grady hops out of the van, indignantly refusing to go anywhere with his sister, who by now is back in her seat looking very smug. Grady's move incenses Lindsay, who grabs hold of the front of his shirt through the open window, yanks him closer and yells "Grady, get in the freaking van, I have to get to work". (I'm not convinced the word she used was actually "freaking", but it was all a bit chaotic, so I'll give her the benefit of the doubt). Meanwhile, I haven't had the opportunity to say even one word yet.
To my surprise Grady gets in the van without further argument, but he must have done something to Sidney on the way to his seat, because all I hear next is a long intake of breath followed by a seemingly endless ear-piercing scream that resonates through the van and echoes around the neighbourhood. My exclamation to Grady of "What the hell did you do to your sister?" is followed quickly by "Shut up Sid , the windows are open!". We are still sitting in the driveway. A quick pause for breath, and the scream continues, so I have to make a decision. Do we stay put until Sid calms down, which could take a while depending on the severity of the injury inflicted by her brother or alternatively drive off and subject the rest of the neighbourhood to her wailing.
Trying to determine who started this fight is an exercise in futility, much like the "What came first, the chicken or the egg ?" debate. I asked Sidney why she was crying - because Grady punched her. I ask Grady why he punched his sister - because she kicked him. I asked Sid why she kicked him - because he looked at her, and so on and so on. I never did determine who started it, but in the long run it doesn't really matter. I am convinced I am raising two little psychopaths, so I can only hope that one day I can find a good therapist, or at least a one that doesn't charge too much.
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