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I was an only child and I really hated it. I knew kids fought with their siblings, and it wasn't all let's play pretend, but there were times when they had someone to play Connect Four with, and that's what I envied. Perfection is only entertaining for so long.

Because of this, I swore I would have more than one child, and I do. I have four ranging from eight to 11. So you can imagine how insane it makes me when they whine that there's no one to play with. When I insist they play with each other, they go through an interesting series of predictable phases.

Phase 1 "There's no one to play with!"

Right, I endured three pregnancies (including one twin pregnancy), so I would never have to hear anyone say that. Your argument is invalid.

Phase 2 "Uggghhhh, I don't want to play with my brother!"

Yeah, see above. Tough.

Phase 3 The Picking Stage

Resignation has set in that I am not going to whip up a playdate. One goes and finds another and begins taunting, poking, prodding. Not quite what I had in mind, but one child at least is amused. The other one keeps yelling, "STOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPUHHHH." This phase lasts anywhere from 10 minutes to forever.

Phase 4 The Playing Stage

They either find a game, or the physical interaction turns into a wrestling match. I am generally less thrilled about the latter, because it usually happens in my living room full of sharp corners, hard surfaces, and breakable lamps. I kick them outside or to the basement, but I'm grateful they're playing. Unfortunately this phase tends to be short, as it almost always disintegrates into…

Phase 5 The Attempted Murder Stage

One kid does something a little too enthusiastically and the other one decides it was a deliberate attempt to inflict injury, and retaliates in kind. Thus we escalate quickly to the next phase.

Phase 6 The Revenge + Tattling Stage

The gloves are off now. Each feels they are entitled to retribution for the wrongs done them. They never try to hurt each other seriously (if that were their goal, I presume they would just beat each other with one of our many baseball bats). However with each offense comes a heavily italicized tattle - "He hit me!" "She threw the airplane right at my face!" I let this go until I'm afraid they may really hurt each other, however unintentionally.

Phase 7 The Time Out Phase

This isn't really a time out in the conventional sense - it's really just separating the two doing battle, sending them to their corners, as it were. One may be sent to his room, another may be hustled off to run an errand with Dad. Either way, they're given time to simmer down.

Eventually, however, the time out ends and they are once again drifting through the kitchen whining, "There's no one to play with!" And so it begins again.

Just shoot me.

- Tracy Deblois

Tracy Deblois has a husband, four children, a dog, and a full-time job. Having grown up on the East coast, she and her family relocated to the West coast almost 10 years ago. She writes to maintain the tenuous grip she has on her fragile sanity. Her blog at Orange & Silver is intended to provide a humorous glimpse into the never-settling snow globe that is her mind. She spends her time answering questions about the location of her children's belongings, and enduring the searing injustice that Season 5 of Downton Abbey aired in the UK months before it will be shown in the U.S. She can be found at orangeandsilverblog.blogspot.com, and on Facebook.