I have heard this story a million times from my mother. My older sister, who had a birthday three weeks before me, received a coveted Michael Jackson doll (don’t look at me like that, I’m a child of the ’80s). She was so excited. And I cried and cried. Because I wanted the coveted Michael Jackson doll, it wasn’t fair that I didn’t have it.
Did my mother know I would want it? Yes. Did she have one for me hiding in her closet, waiting for my birthday? Also yes. But it didn’t matter. I cried and cried. I don’t remember how the story ended, but I’m pretty sure she either told me mine was coming or gave it to me early to stop the drama.
I thought of that story often when I was expecting my second child. My girls would be almost four years apart (my sister and I are two years apart), and their birthdays several months apart, so I couldn’t imagine running into the same issues. We wouldn’t have the problem of things “not being fair” since they would be in completely different age ranges.
Except here I am, just letting you know that the most common phrase screamed in my home is “It’s not fair.”
I really do make an effort for things to be fair between my kids, and so do my girls. They are very sweet when it comes to surprising each other with gifts, and my youngest loves bringing home extra treats from school or a party for her big sister. I specifically enjoy scooping out the mashed-up muffin from the bottom of her bookbag because she knew her sister would want it, but it’s the thought that counts, right?
But lately, and a lot louder than ever before, there is a lot of “it’s not fair” in my house.
Everyone wants to be the first in a line; everyone wants to be the first out the door, into the house, in the bath, and on and on and on. I’m starting to wonder if we need a little more tough love. You can’t always be first. You won’t always win first place. And you definitely won’t get the coveted Michael Jackson doll on your sister’s birthday. I thought keeping things even would lead to peace in my house, but it’s actually making things worse because that’s not how things work in the outside world.
I’m trying to prepare my ten-year-old for the future, and it’s come with many tough conversations.
After a parent-teacher conference, we learned that not only was she declaring things “not fair” within our own family, but things “weren’t fair” at school.
It wasn’t fair that her idea wasn’t chosen in a group project, it wasn’t fair that someone else won an award, and anything that didn’t benefit her wasn’t fair. And though I had heard similar sentiments at home, I was shocked to hear it was happening at school also.
I wish I could end this post with a satisfying conclusion. I wish I could tell you we’ve figured out the magic solution to either make everything “fair” or to help her understand that sometimes, life isn’t fair, but I haven’t figured it all out yet.
I am trying to give her space to feel heard and accepted, but something tells me that as we barrel quickly into the teen years, I’ll have much more to learn. And to that, I say, “It’s not fair!”
