They'll Keep Each Other Company

You know that goofy thing that people sometimes say to mothers pregnant with twins -- that having two children will be "so much easier" than having just one because they'll keep each other occupied? And maybe it's true once they get to a certain age, but, as my sister used to say, when you've got two infants who aren't exactly changing each other's diapers, it seems pretty ludicrous. Well, I wonder about that sometimes with siblings who aren't twins too.

Sure, as they grow, there is ample evidence that they love each other. One zings into the kitchen asking for "two smarshmallows, peez" and promptly adds that she will also need "two for Brother." One cries and cries and bedtime, and the other shepherds her back to her room, helps her into bed, pulls the covers carefully up to her chin and over her stuffed snuggly puppy, and kisses her goodnight.

But as they get a bit older, twins or not, the siblings also start to bicker over things. Most recently, we had a fight to the point of tears and wailing lamentations over who had or should not have eaten the last of the invisible food that they two of them were pretending to hold in their hands while riding in the car. They nearly came to blows over this.

"I just ate the last bit!" [insert sounds of slurping, satisfied smacking]

"NO!! You CAN'T!!! It's MIIINNNNEEEE!!!!!" [insert shrieks which fade into a whimper] "See, there's one more bite for me."

"No there isn't. I ate it all. It's all gone. Ha HA!"

[despondent wailing...]

"Keeping each other company" in this manner is likely to make mama's head burst into spontaneous flames. Which would probably only produce a bickering conversation about who had more pretend water to throw on her and who should be allowed to go first in putting out the fire.

Don't get me wrong. My children are also perfectly capable of playing nicely with each other. They will color, climb things, build forts, do puzzles, cooperate, soothe each other's boo boos. But invariably at some point during the day, they begin to melt a little around the edges. The shiny impervious crust of well-rested happiness wears thin, and they begin to badger and prod, each sensing weakness in the other, each fueled by his or her own tiredness, low blood sugar, or sudden boredom into trying to produce a reaction. It's as if they simultaneously become fragile and spawn a blood-lust for exploiting fragility.

The moments are cyclical. We will have some time of contented play, then an implosion that I must help negotiate. After time to diffuse (which often means separating their play briefly and strategically, not as punishment but as creating a space for mental regrouping), they can play well together again. The stretches of good play tend to be longest in the morning and mind-numbingly short in the late afternoon. The purposeful antagonism coupled with utter inability to take in return the same as one is perfectly capable of doling out follows the reverse pattern.

In short, I go from Quiet Reminder-er in the morning to full-blown Referee in Uniform by afternoon, and I find the latter role more draining than any other work I've ever done.

But here's is something fabulous I have discovered: if you add one child into the mix who is not a sibling, magic can occur. Suddenly, they do keep each other company for insanely long stretches of time. Miraculously, the squabbles are reduced. Inconceivably, three children is a more consistently pleasant number than two. At least, in our family this seems to be the case.

I suspect it has to do with the "outsider" reducing the instinct of my two to needle each other because both are enjoying playing with the third. Although everything one reads about children and play suggests that three is a bad number because one child is always left out while the other two take over, I have found that for my kids, adding a third can create perfect dynamics. Of course, there are still occasional squabbles over who had what toy first and whether sharing is possible. But in the main, as I found at a friend's house the other day, while her older child played with my two, three can be bliss. (To be clear: they weren't cruelly leaving out the younger child; he's only 8 weeks old and really has little interest in toy money or blocks.)

It would not surprise me to hear that if you have three children, it takes a fourth to reach that stage of playtime bliss where the children can be sent into another room to amuse themselves and not recalled until lunch time -- and in the interim whole sentences, nay, entire paragraphs!, of conversation can run uninterrupted between the grown-ups. It also seems obvious to me that once the littles hit a certain age (7? 8? 34?), the number of them becomes of less consequence, and they are simply a self-sufficient bunch.

But, sitting as I am on the cusp of Ultimate Neediness, so close that I can still find the occasional unused diaper stashed in a bag I haven't carried for a few months, still involved intimately in their daily ablutions, still their one and only Best Witness to What I Just Did All By Myself, still their favorite playmate, still the desperately needed referee, I am in awe of the mere fact that there can be untended moments of play. That children, MY children, can get together in a space, and make up some games, and laugh and converse and have a good time with a friend without requiring my interjections, approval and warnings with relative frequency.

I realize that I am still all starry eyed over the fact that my ability to talk uninterrupted with another adult while our children played in the other room will only increase from here on out. But I do wonder, on a deeper level, what you think about the whole play dynamics thing. Is it the number of children that matters most? Or is it their ages in relation to each other? Or is it whether they are siblings or not? Or is it mostly a factor of the individual personalities of those in the little group?

In short, what do you think is the perfect mix that creates the bliss of "keeping each other company" and mutes as much as possible the amount of time that mama has to play Referee?