Editor’s Note: We’re digging into our ample archives to find some great articles you might have missed over the years. This one comes from 2016.

Charlie had to go to the doctor recently. He was not at all pleased about the trip. Our 3 1/2-year-old was in pain and arrived there, with his mom and brother, a hot mess.

Bawling on the floor, he cried like he was getting paid in candy for the tears that hit the floor. It was then that his older brother did something incredibly sweet, genuinely helpful and entirely on his own accord.

He walked over and started asking Charlie questions about Phineas and Ferb.

Phineas and Ferb is something the boys and I watch quite often together as it is as entertaining for adults as it is for children.

“Charlie, who do you think is funnier: Buford or Doctor Doofenshmirtz?”

He thought for a moment and said, “Doof.”

“Charlie, who is funnier: Phineas or Doctor Doofenshmirtz?”

He thought for a second. “Doof.”

The two went on talking about Phineas and Ferb until the doctor called them in.

Brothers: Potential best friend, worst rival

Charlie had gone from zero to crazy meltdown at the drop of a hat but was called back from the edge in the same amount of time just by his big brother making conversation with him. It was something a parent couldn’t have done, but his big brother did it with ease and grace.

In my mind’s eye, I thought about the boys being in their 30s. I hope they are the best of friends when they’re adults. Siblings are one thing; brothers — well, that just has a whole different, deeper and more permanent bond, isn’t it?

I imagine brothers opening up businesses together when they’re older, going on crazy adventures in the backyard or camping with other friends. Brothers, that’s a bond that nothing can break. Siblings are cool and do have a bond, but it certainly varies from family to family. I suspect sisters have the same club as brothers, though. It’s the potential best friend and rival that they’ll have all of their life.

It’s possible what happened in the doctor’s office might have been replicated had they just been siblings and not brothers. Had that been the case it would’ve been cute, too. However, in my “guy” (not to mention, parent) mind, there was something even better about it because it was the two brothers figuring something out and fixing it.

My dad has a younger brother. One time my uncle told me that when he was a child, the only thing he wanted was to be more like his big brother. In response, my dad just shirked and mumbled something smarmy. But that brother bond was still there.

A version of this first appeared on Daddy Mojo. Photo: © luengo_ua / Adobe Stock.

Three years ago, my wife told me the news: we were expecting our second child. We were thrilled. We also knew exactly what to expect. After all, we’d been down this road before.

The famous book What to Expect When You’re Expecting is a classic guide for new parents. It answers all those big questions about pregnancy and the early months. We didn’t need to review it, though. We already had one kid, we knew exactly what to expect. In fact, we were quite convinced Kid No. 2 was going to be simple compared to Kid No. 1.

We couldn’t have been more wrong.

Every child is unique. It took time to adapt to my son’s unique interests and acknowledge that he wasn’t, in fact, a Mini-Me. Yet, the things that make him unique are worth cherishing. In a similar vein, my daughter is not Kid No. 2. She’s not a book we’re re-reading or the second season of a show we’ve already started. She definitely isn’t her big brother. She’s her own unique self, with her own joys and challenges. She is not what we expected. The entire act of parenting multiple children is different than we expected as well.

Different right from the start

When kids are born, they are blobs capable of three things: eating, going in their diapers, and sleeping. Don’t get me wrong, they’re adorable little blobs. To their sleep-deprived, often-struggling parents, those blobs are pure perfection. But again, we knew exactly what to expect with our second one … or did we?

My son was easy to feed, but impossible to get to sleep. I fed him bottles in the middle of the night, and he downed them. I’d also drive him for hours in circles hoping the car would lull him into slumber. My daughter, however, was a great sleeper. She laid down and slept. But feeding … Well, for the first six months of her life my daughter wanted nothing to do with me. To use a quote from the old show Dinosaurs, I was “not-the-Mama.” Never mind that I was the stay-at-home parent, and in charge of feedings and keeping her happy. If I was around there were tears and yells. No bottles. Ever. Especially from that bearded non-the-Mama guy.

Fast forward a bit, and the differences continue. Every time we think we know what’s next, we’re wrong. My son was an early speaker. He was forming entire sentences and stories before age 2. He wasn’t as physically curious, however, especially with things like climbing. My daughter is a climber and a daredevil. She sees a ledge and she instantly jumps. Daddy — who is tolerable now, I’m happy to say, though still apparently less fun than Mom — will catch her. That’s the belief. Sometimes she leaps with eyes closed, saying “Dad.” Just a literal leap of faith. They’re quite terrifying. She sees a ledge and jumps. She spies something small and completely inedible — into the mouth it goes. Why are toddlers so darned self-destructive? On the other hand, she’s only just talking now, at nearly 3. Completely unlike my son. Doctors told us there’s nothing wrong with this at all, she just developed differently.

There’s another dynamic to the entire “what to expect when we clearly don’t know what the heck we’re expecting” phase of our life. We spent months preparing our son for his sister’s arrival. We may have watched the show Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood a bit too much. There’s a season about the arrival of Daniel’s baby sister and how he copes with it emotionally. Of course, by the time we were ready to go to the hospital, my son told me how excited he was to meet the new baby tiger our family was having. We did explain that his sister would, in fact, be human.

Unique unto themselves but bonded together

The sibling dynamic is unpredictable and remains so in my family. My daughter idolizes her big brother. Even in her not-fond-of-me-the-Dad phase, she worshiped her brother. She imitates him and laughs when he’s around and always wants to be near him. As for my son, it goes in waves. Sometimes she’s OK, sometimes a friend, but often she’s an obstacle. Jealousy and even cruelty towards her appear from time to time, and they create challenges all their own. Even now, we’re never 100 percent sure what to expect on a day-to-day basis, although we always hope that it’ll be a day when the kids get along. When they do get along, it’s the best. There’s no greater image than the two kids hugging and smiling.

If I had a time machine, and could go back to try and explain to myself what to expect with my second child, I’d start by saying: lose all your expectations. I’d tell myself it’s going to be different than it was the first time. My daughter is unique. She’s an individual, and that’s a wonder in itself. I’d also emphasize to past-me that parenting two is different than parenting one, and a heck of a lot more tiring. There’s more to learn, just when you think you’re finally starting to “get” this parenting deal.

A few weeks ago, I finally broke out of the not-the-Mama phase. My daughter wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a big kiss on my cheek. She told me she loved me. And my son ran over and hugged us both. One thing I knew to expect, and was right — the good times can be twice as good, and filled with twice the love.

Photo: © Evrymmnt / Adobe Stock.

When you have multiple children, you quickly realize parenting siblings individually to a collective audience is one of the most challenging issues you face.

Each child is different and requires different types of attention, different resources and different parenting styles for maximum effectiveness. Even when you give it your best to be fair and equitable in parenting these different individuals, you realize that at times you simply come up short.

How often do your kids hit you with, “You let the other one do it!” or the classic, “That’s not fair!”? If you’re like me, these declarations are a consistent part of household conversations. But that begs the question: How do I, as a parent, effectively give the individualized attention necessary to each kid in the amount needed for their optimal growth and development without appearing to not be equitable in my approach?  

This difficult question has baffled my wife and me for years. We are currently in the midst of trying to find legitimate solutions, mostly through trial and error. For starters, we’ve recently started using the phrase, “What’s special for you is special for you.” With that conversation, a whole different way of looking at the art of parenting opens up that revolves around the old “practicing what you preach” mantra.

Good modeling, clear explanations

“What’s special for you is special for you” only works when we as parents put this into practice. We all know kids don’t always do what they’re told, but most often they repeat what they see. Therefore, if mommy and daddy are constantly complaining about things not being fair or about what someone else has or has not accomplished, it’s no wonder their children adopt this type of commentary. We have to be mindful as parents, specifically as dads, to model actions we want repeated by our kids and not those that we don’t.

In the spirit of truly embodying the concept of “what’s special for you is special for you,” we have to model making the most of the opportunities at our disposal. We have to use unique opportunities to show the kids that differences aren’t a deficit. In fact, sometimes they are a unique superpower. We also have to show how differences in one circumstance may elevate some people while conversely making things more difficult for others. Then we should discuss how other situations or circumstance may turn the tables around for those same people.

One example of “what’s special for you is special for you” that bubbled up in our home recently revolved around one child having a birthday party to attend while the other one didn’t. When we pointed out that when the tables were turned, the other sibling experienced the same thing, the child crying “unfair” now clearly understood. An example of where a child might have harder time understanding that is when a situation revolves around one sibling needing more help and attention in an area where the other sibling may already be proficient. This requires us to work on finding tangible ways to make this point clear. What we ultimately want is for our children to understand that mommy and daddy strive to create an environment where everyone has the best opportunity to thrive.

Unity vs. uniformity

I think the best way to think about parenting siblings requires considering unity versus uniformity. By having unity in our direction as a family, we approach things from the standpoint working toward a common goal of success. Uniformity suggests we’re using the exact same cookie-cutter methodology with each child. As much as it would be easy to just “copy and paste” our methods and strategies from kid to kid, easy isn’t always the best policy. 

That being said, we’re going to continue to navigate this parenting journey the best way we know how.  We’ll continue instituting the “what’s special for you is special for you” perspective in our communication while we simultaneously model it to the kids. And as always, we’ll continuously be on the lookout for better methods to improve ourselves as parents. Having an individualized approach to the collective audience of multiple kids takes energy, patience and probably a bit of wine … but we’re up for the challenge!  

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mike Dorsey is an author, business entrepreneur, community organizer, speaker and podcaster. He aims to create a community for active and engaged black fathers. The Augusta, Ga., native hosts the Black Fathers, NOW! podcast and founded the apparel company Black Family Apparel, which celebrates positive imagery of the black family through messaged clothing. He has author two books: Dynamic Black Fatherhood Manifesto and ABE: Always Be Engaged — The 7 Keys to Living a Fit Urban Life. He can be reached via Instagram, Facebook or email.

Parenting siblings photo by © wavebreak3 / Adobe Stock.

What is the hardest part of parenting? For many, the answer is smack-down clear: discipline.

Why? In part because we live in a stew of philosophies ranging from attachment to free-range parenting, all of which merely season the stock of how we were disciplined (or not disciplined) by our own parents.

As the father of two daughters, I have wrestled with discipline issues  —especially sibling rivalry — for many years. My struggle peaked a few years ago when I caught myself in a parental fantasy at an unlikely place: a World Wresting Entertainment show. (Some call it “fake wrestling,” but John Stossel once got slapped using that term, so let’s just call it “wrestling.”)

How did I end up at a WWE event? Every December, my brother and I try to travel back to our hometown to take our nephew to a professional hockey game. But that particular year there was no game available. I suggested we shoot some pool; my brother said let’s check out WWE. I groaned but agreed.

I was unprepared for the passion of the fans — or should I say, fanatics! The crowd knew everything about each hero or villain wrestler who emerged from the tunnel on the way into the ring. In fact, each featured wrestler had his or her own theme music, and the moment the first note sounded, the fans leapt to their feet either in cheers or jeers. My nephew was so infuriated by one villain that he lost his composure and yelled: “He thinks he’s the shit, but he’s not!” (My father instinct disapproved of the language, but my uncle instinct just laughed.)

Another fascinating part of the experience was the fans’ frantic desire to see the “finishing move” of each wrestler. If you’ve never seen a WWE match, the featured wrestler usually wins via his trademark finishing move, which is actually included in the printed program. If the wrestler’s finishing move is the “atomic elbow,” fans start chanting “give him the atomic elbow!” The wrestler eventually obliges, throws the elbow and wins the match, much to the fans’ delight.

Enter my fantasy. What if each parent had his or her own finishing move that could solve any disciplinary situation, especially sibling squabbles? You know, a method that is actually effective and “finishes” the situation, as opposed to the methods we use now, which often entail a messy aftermath of resentment, remorse, and in worst cases years of therapy.

Parent-as-heroic-wrestler to the rescue

Imagine the scene: two siblings are fighting (again), and as if from an arena’s tunnel a parent emerges. Theme music begins; adoring fans roar; the parent enters the room. Each sibling knows the parent’s trademark finishing move, so they chant for it to be applied to their rival, who they know to be wrong. “Give her the timeout” they yell, or “the grounding.” The parent obliges, achieves discipline and restores peace and justice, much to the children’s satisfaction.

After reading the list of finishing moves in the WWE program, I suspected that some of these wrestlers are parents. My favorites were “Attitude Adjustment,” “Last Ride,” “Clothesline from Hell,” and “GTS (Go to Sleep).” In my case, the finishing move has often been “The Loud Voice.” But I’m not proud when I use it, and I usually ask for forgiveness after the fact. While the discipline situation may be finished by The Loud Voice, it is rarely resolved. Perhaps I should rename my move the “Last Resort Before Dad Needs a Timeout,” but that might be even less effective.

Finally, no fantasy is complete without a name change: “Dad” and “Mom” just won’t do. Wrestlers are famous for their outrageous titles, as the program showed. Fathers might emulate “The Extreme Educator.” Mothers might get inspired by “The Glamazon” (or maybe not). As for my fantasy name, “Iron Dad” comes to mind, complete with Black Sabbath “I … am … Iron … Dad” theme music. But Ozzy Osbourne’s reality TV stint took the edge off that song for me.

Plus, I’m a veteran stay-at-home dad. So maybe I’ll tweak it to “Ironing Dad.”

Wresting with discipline photo: Chris Chow on Unsplash

It was supposed to be a trouble-free paradise. My wife, two teen daughters, and I recently splurged on a family vacation. Their majority vote landed us at a swanky resort for a spa weekend. You would think two days of pampering services with names like “Espresso Mud Detox Wrap” would lead to familial bliss. You would be wrong.

By the end of our second day, I could already feel the stress that had been massaged out of me surging back through my body. Why? My daughters could not stop bickering.

For some reason their sibling rivalry was on steroids that weekend. I figured part of the problem was subconscious — i.e. my older daughter is leaving for college soon, and they are going to miss each other (I think). Still, as we spent our last evening on the resort patio, I felt annoyed and disappointed.

Then, a minor miracle.

As our family milled about, a pair of women approached us with big smiles. “Would you like us to take your picture?” they asked.

I wanted to say no, but social graces demanded otherwise. After the photo, they explained how happy they were to be on a “sisters’ spa weekend.” They looked to be in their 40s and were obviously having a great time at the resort. Just before we departed, one of them added with a chuckle: “We didn’t like each other much when we were your daughters’ age.”

Suddenly, my mood lifted. That magical statement from mature, healthy siblings restored my faith in our daughters’ future relationship. Was this long view a divine intervention? Did the spa somehow provide this invaluable service? If so, will it show up on our bill?The whole thing felt like a glorious visit from the Ghost of Sibling Spa Weekends to Come.

As we drove home, I realized I’d been foolish to be so surprised by my daughters’ rivalry, even as teens. It is perfectly normal, as most parents of siblings learn. Heck, to this day I have a scar under my left eyebrow inflicted by an older brother during a childhood hockey fight. We remain close, though no facial has been able to erase that memory.

Family artifact stems off sibling rivalry

Granted, sibling rivalry is unavoidable and in some ways necessary for growth, but it’s important to limit its influence. In addition to not comparing and not labeling siblings, a healthy way to nurture their lifelong bond is to create artifacts of their relationship that will live into the future. For example, one of my favorite “living” memories of growing up with five siblings is a family art project we created many years ago. My parents bought a large poster of the zodiac signs, and each child colored in two of the signs. Whenever I look at that poster today, I remember vividly which sibling colored which signs, and more importantly how we all laughed and enjoyed the experience of creating a piece of art together.

Fast forward to my own daughters. One of our favorite family artifacts is a deck of cards that has a photo on each card of my daughters when they were quite young. In the “evergreen” photo, my youngest is inexplicably holding a tomato (maybe because she’s half-Italian), and my oldest is wearing a camouflage shirt that says “You Can’t See Me.” Those words are especially bittersweet now that she is about to disappear to college. While we didn’t make the deck with our hands, holding those cards while playing poker or blackjack still achieves a kind of time travel through warm family memories. In hindsight, we could have used them at the resort.

So the next time you’re beleaguered by your children’s sibling rivalry, seek comfort in a family artifact that embodies better times. If you don’t yet have one, think about making one together. Consider it an ace up your sleeve for whenever sibling rivalry threatens a family vacation (or body scrub). Short of a visit from your children’s happy, future-sibling selves, a visit from their past may be your best bet.

Photo by Vincent O’Keefe

Ever heard a parent of a 3-month-old say, “My baby is just like me when I was that age”? Of course not. But when it comes to parents of teens, detailed comparisons and contrasts abound. Why do we do this? Probably because we remember the highlights of our teenhood so much better than our toddlerhood.

I recently asked one of the wisest parents I know for her No. 1 parenting tip. Her reply? Stop all the comparisons! Don’t compare a child to yourself at his or her age; don’t compare a child to his or her siblings; don’t compare a child to relatives, friends, classmates, co-parents or anyone else. Just observe  your children as individuals, attend to their developmental needs, and enjoy them for who they are at every point in time. Comparisons imply judgement and distract us from the child in front of us. Even positive comparisons — e.g., “you’re so much neater than your cousin” — foster labels and conditional love.

My friend admits avoiding comparisons takes constant effort. But part of the reason to avoid them is that we already live in a hypercompetitive culture that categorizes children constantly. Children are judged physically, emotionally and academically many times a day. Today’s kids also grow up in the heat of social media, a technology that seems to confirm Theodore Roosevelt’s famous declaration: “Comparison is the thief of joy.”

Granted, a few areas of comparison can be useful. For example, a child’s physical growth chart makes sure he or she is developing appropriately in relation to peers. Comparison can also help cultivate children’s sense of gratitude and empathy in relation to those less fortunate in society. And if a child is struggling with a recurring problem, it can be helpful to act as a historian and remind the child of similar plights he or she has overcome in the past.

For example, my younger teen is now a roller coaster connoisseur, but as a child she could barely stomach the whirring, ever-so-slow horsey ride at our local mall. When I feel a self-comparison might help her overcome an obstacle, I remind her of her triumphant first roller coaster ride. In other words, self-comparisons can sometimes help children recall “game changers” from their own past, those paradigm-shifting moments that help solidify a new identity of competence.

So how might one avoid using comparisons?

Beyond these exceptions, try to avoid — or at least minimize — the temptation to make comparisons. One way to avoid comparisons is to develop a personal mantra. Whenever you feel a comparison about to sprout, use a mantra like “stay in my child’s lane,” “it’s only about him or her” or “focus on the here and now.”

Another way to deflate comparisons is to reflect on all the surprising outcomes from our own childhood (though this is yet another comparison). Probably all of us know high school classmates whose lives and versions of success veered far from the peers to whom they were constantly — and needlessly — compared.

I acknowledge avoiding comparisons is a daily struggle. I recently fell victim again while touring a college campus with my older daughter. As a student showed us her dorm room, I blurted out: “Wow! This is a double? It’s so much bigger than mine was.” The young woman replied sheepishly, “Yeah, we’re spoiled.” My daughter’s eyes shot me a dagger, and I felt bad for interjecting. Focus on the here and now!

Long before taking care of children, I took care of lawns. That experience led to my earliest mantra for life: “The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, but who knows what chemicals that guy is using?” It’s not exactly Roosevelt, and it’s not directly about parenting. But feel free to borrow it the next time you’re tempted to compare your children to anyone but themselves.

As I sit here typing, I was just thinking that there is nothing more heartwarming than brotherly love. You know, that bond brothers have. There is just something so very special about —

Hang on. Someone’s yelling in the living room …

OK, I’m back. It seems Carter had decided to help Dad by picking up the toys. This included the two that his brother happened to be playing with at the time. Then after voicing his displeasure, Gavin decided to retrieve said playthings from the toybox and Carter was upset with having his work undone.

Where was I … oh yeah, brotherly love.

It’s not too surprising that my boys sometimes get on each other’s nerves. My brother Jared and I (he is five years my junior) used to fight like cats and dogs. But we also spent our share of quality time together as well. When I look back to some of the best times I had growing up, he was right beside me.

Living in different parts of the world now, I don’t see him that often. Usually it’s once a year, in the fall, when I make a trip to the Twin Cities. It doesn’t matter though because we crack open a beer, and pick up right where we left off the year before.

That’s what I want for my sons. Not the distance between them, but the ability to be comfortable enough with their relationship to skip the awkward formalities that a long time of being apart sometimes brings.

The first 12 months watching my twin sons interact was difficult because it was far from what I expected. My sons were getting bigger and older, and seemed to ignore each other completely. They knew the other existed, but they really didn’t seem to care.

Did they realize that it wasn’t their brother who was going to feed them, or change them, or put them down for a nap? Had it dawned on them that one was as helpless as the other?

There were times when one would cry (normally Carter) and their sibling would give them that look, almost saying, “Dude! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Before they were born I imagined two best friends coming into the world at the same time. (For example, my friend Erik and I were born just 2 days apart). I was all excited about the “secret twin language,” even joking with the idea of videotaping it, and asking them what they said to each other years from now. (It’s an old Steven Wright Joke).

None of that really happened until they started getting more mobile. Now here it is, a year later, and they spend the day chasing one another. They are both learning what their independent interests are and have no issue playing alone, but it seems that one will gravitate toward the other as the day wears on.

Last week, Gavin tripped while running into the living room and landed right on one of his Matchbox cars. He had the print of the hood of the car right under his eye to prove it. My wife comforted him as he cried his tale of woe and Carter made a point to come over and make sure he was OK. It’s probably the first sign of compassion we’ve seen either of them show. It warms your heart.

My boys are growing up, and I have to accept that. What makes it a little easier is knowing that they are growing up together – brothers always.

A version of this first appeared on Double Trouble Daddy.

Photo credit of brothers: Capri & William III via photopin (license)