I'm not exactly the most hands-on mom.
By that, I mean, I really encourage my kids to entertain themselves. I have important shit to do, like laundry and dishes and read Scary Mommy Confessions.
When I got pregnant with Charlie, the first thing that people said to me when they realized that I would have two kids under the age of two was, "Oh, they'll be SUCH good friends!" And then Charlie arrived.
Sam LOVED her baby sister from day one. And by LOVED, I mean she head-butted her with love, she laid on top of her love, and she stole all of her shit love. I was beginning to doubt that these two would ever get along, since we simply could not teach Sam what it was to be NICE to her little sister.
And then yesterday happened. As per usual, I had the kids in the room with me while I put away a dozen pairs of shoes and some clothes I forgot we owned. (Yes, my kids wear the same clothes over and over, never wearing the super duper incredibly cute shit hanging in the closet with the tags on.)
And it happened.
Charlie walked over to Sam who was sitting on the ground. And she full on tackled her. I look over and both of them are giggling and there is NO SCREAMING. And then Sam started tickling Charlie and laying on top of her and there was MORE GIGGLING.
People were right. They will play together. They will get along. I know there are many more fights and screaming and crying to come, but at least I know now, there will be laughing too.