Sibling rivalry is as normal as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. This is especially strong when kids only have a small gap in their ages. Sibling rivalry can be a manifestation of jealousy or competition among two siblings, and can happen as soon as a new child is born into the family. Usually, this progresses from fighting about toys, to getting attention from parents, and then to more serious things as children grow up, like career paths and material possessions.

Dealing with sibling rivalry can be complicated. However, you can start solving this by keeping a few simple concepts in mind.

Sibling rivalry is usually caused by the feeling that parents have unequal preferences or give unequal attention to children. A toddler might be jealous of the time you spent caring for an infant, for example. Or a grade-schooler can be jealous of the freedoms you give his older brother or sister in high school.

The most basic way to minimize rivalry is by not comparing children, ever, and by giving them equal attention. You should also not take sides, as this will make them feel you have favorites. It’s also a good idea to let children cooperate instead of compete. This reinforces the idea that they should not fight for attention, but help each other do good things.

Maybe you have teen-aged kids and they’ve started blogging. Or perhaps they’re fond of social networking sites. Be sure to watch what your kids are doing, because they are potentially endangering themselves, and even your family, if they give out too much information to the public.

Sites like MySpace, Friendster, and Multiply are social networking sites that are very popular among teens and young adults (even with grade-schoolers, too, actually). These are great in that they let people connect to their friends online, set up online profiles/identities, and network with other people.

Blogs, meanwhile, are popular among teens and young adults as online diaries or journals. They are just like paper-based diaries, but they’re usually published and available for viewing by the public. Blogs make it easy to write and publish content online, since these don’t require much technical knowledge.

Some blogging services have social networking functions, and sometimes it’s the other way around. Blogs and social networking sites, therefore, can be great at keeping track of what your friends are up to.

However, there are dangers to this (we shall discuss this next).

In line with setting routines, I’d say another important part of the day is nap time. This is especially so if your kids are still toddler to preschool age. For one, they need all the sleep they can get so they can grow up big, strong and healthy.

Also, sometimes nap time is essential for us parents to keep our sanity intact!

For adults, nap time can also be called “power napping,” which is especially popular in the office setting. Getting a few minutes of rest (from 15 to 30 minutes) helps keep us alert. Or at the very least, this can help us catch up on some sleep if we don’t get enough at nights. Research tells us that 15 minutes is the optimal time for power-napping because this is the time when our brain waves reach those patterns wherein we feel most alert after waking. Too little time and we don’t get enough rest. Too much, and we would only feel sleepy and less alert.

For kids, meanwhile, they need as much sleep as they can get. The brain’s pituitary function–which tells the body to grow–only works when we’re asleep. So sleep is important, especially in those growing years.

Another very compelling reason to take naps, aside from the growth factor, is that children usually get very cranky when they’re sleepy. And cranky kids can be such a headache for parents! Believe me, I’ve had those times when both my kids missed their afternoon naps and they end up very cranky in the early evening. This can potentially spell trouble, especially if you’re looking forward to a good dinner or catching up with quality time in the evenings.

What is it about germs that make them spread like wildfire, especially with kids? While we were at hospital Dr.J warned me to try and refrain from getting too close to O, and not kissing him or sharing drinks, food and so on. Was she insane? Did she think I would stay at an arm’s length of my son who was in hospital for the first time? Bring on the outbreak and let me kiss my baby.

By the next morning, O had started to recover fast. After finishing his bowl of clear soup, he moved on to some white bread (I made the exception because of the circumstances), and by lunchtime, he was up and about, roaming the pediatric ward while I held his I.V. drip.

Big sis came to visit with Grandma, and despite more stay-away warnings from Dr.J, she promptly jumped into the hospital bed with her little brother (to his delight!) snuggeling to watch the Playhouse Disney channel, which we don’t get at home. Being the affectionate (well, sometime) bis sister that she is, I think she felt sorry for her little brother (with a needle and tube stuck on his hand, no less) and wouldn’t stop hugging and kissing him. When it was time for Grandma to take her to lunch at the mall she refused to leave and eventually was persuaded to go downstairs to the hospital cafeteria.

By the following day, you can guess what happened. O was nearly back to his old cheery self, my daughter was vomiting and I had diarrhea.

[tags]outbreak, hospital, virus[/tags]

Amid all our pirate excitement ( We had been practicing our pirate lingo at home, the birthday girl happily calling everyone in our household “Landlubber!“), I came home (with my find for the day no less, gold and black pirate hand hooks on sale for just 50 cents each!) to find my nearly-two-year-old boy (also a celebrant-to-be), vomiting.

Our nanny said that it was the second time that day, and she didnt’ seem to be too concerned. We gave him some water, and 5 minutes later he vomited it out. Then we tried juice. It came out. Then an ice lolly. Out. Ice chips. Out. More water. out. This went on for the next 2 hours. He was vomiting absolutely everything within minutes, it was of the frightening “projectile” sort.

I had of course called my pedia Dr.J by now, who told me that if I wasnt able to replace what he was vomiting out in the next hour or two, he’d probably have to be admitted to hospital that evening. Two hours later it was the same. He was vomiting every single thing that went in his mouth. He was also criying by now, and saying “Mommy, owie!”. It was heartbreaking. After a few more calls to Dr.J, I called my Mother to come and spend the night at our place and we headed for the hospital.

[tags]vomiting, sick kids, virus[/tags]

I hadn’t realized that the day of The Three Kings was so unknown in America (at least not in the non-Latino communities)and England, both of which are the cultures from my husband’s side of the family. And so, the o.c Mom that I am, I dug up some more on the three kings to share with my husband and kids (they should know why their shoes are getting filled with candy, dont you think?, and now my blog too…. next I’ll be reporting how the big festivities went.

Los Tres Reyes Magos literally means “The Three King Wizards”, but is usually interpreted to mean “The Three Wise Men” or “The Three Kings”. Their celebration day (January 6th) is refered to as “Three Kings Day” or just “The Day of the Kings”.

In Spanish tradition, on the day of January 6th, three of the Kings: Melchor, Gaspar, and Balthazar, representing Europe, Arabia, and Africa, arrived on horse, camel and elephant, bringing respectively gold, frankincense and myrrh to the baby Jesus twelve days after his birth.

As such in Spain, this is the day that people give and receive gifts. And as children in the United States and other countries might wait with great anticipation the arrival of Santa Claus, in Spain the children await the arrival of the Three Kings.

On January 5th in most Spanish towns is the “la cabalgata” (the calvacade) which is a parade marking the arrival of the Three Kings. The Three Kings ride on floats throwing candy to the children. In the Canary and Balaeric Islands the Three Kings arrive by ship!

After the parade the children return to their homes to prepare for the arrival of the Three Kings. They place their shoes on the windowsills and fill them with straw, carrots and barley for the donkeys of the Three Kings. Sometimes they might also leave some food for the Three Kings. The next morning the children wake up early to open their presents. Although the children like all of the Three Kings, their favorite is Baltasar because he is the one who it is believed actually leaves the gifts. This is also the day that adults will get their presents although of course these are not delivered by the Three Kings.

And for my history-buff husband, heres what I’ll be telling him about the Feast of the Epiphany:

Epiphany (Greek: ?????????, “the appearance; miraculous phenomenon”) is a Christian feast intended to celebrate the ’shining forth’ or revelation of God to mankind in human form, in the person of Jesus. The observance had its origins in the eastern Christian churches, and included the birth of Jesus; the visit of the Magi, or Wise Men (traditionally named Gaspar, Melchior and Balthasar) who arrived in Bethlehem; and all of Jesus’ childhood events, up to his baptism in the Jordan by John the Baptist. The date of the feast was fixed on January 6. Ancient Liturgies speak of Illuminatio, Manifestatio, Declaratio (Lighting, Manifestation, Declaration); cf. St. Matthew’s Gospel (iii, 13–17); St. Luke’s (iii, 22); and St. John’s (ii, 1–11); where the Baptism and Marriage at Cana are dwelt upon. The Christian Churches have traditionally also talked of a “Revelation to the Gentiles”, where the term Gentile meant all non-Jewish peoples. The Biblical Magi represent the non-Jewish peoples of the world.

[tags]three kings, epiphany, magi, holidays, latin[/tags]

Growing up, my family always celebrated the three kings day, or the Epiphany. We knew it as the day the three kings (also known as the Magi) would be passing our home, traveling back from Bethlehem, and if we were good and left our shoes by the window, they would fill it with candy.

Aside from that though, it really marked the end of the holiday season, as the day after we would start packing away the Christmas tree, lights and all the decorations. Since we’ve had kids, its become another holiday passed down for our kids to remember, and this year, we’ve even been invited to a three kings party at the local Spanish club. Apparently in Spain, the three kings day (which actually falls on January 6th) is a pretty big deal. Heres how they celebrate it there:

” While most of the world has already begun packing up the Christmas ornaments, throwing out the tree, and finding a place for all of their gifts, Spaniards are continuing the celebration. January 6, Three King’s Day, is the long awaited day in which the three Kings bring their gifts. On January 5, children go to a parade where they see the three kings arrive to their city, and take the opportunity to ask them for gifts. Later, before going to bed, children leave their shoes out in a visible spot in the house or on their balcony, y go to bed hoping that when they wake up they will find gifts left by Mechior, Gaspar, and Balthasar. For breakfast or after lunch, families often have the typical dessert of the day, the “Roscón de los Reyes”, a large ring shaped cake that is decorated with candied fruits, symbolic of the emeralds and rubies that adorned the robes of the three kings. Somewhere inside the cake there is a surprise, and the person to find it will be crowned King or Queen of the house for the remainder of the day. ”

[tags]three kings, epiphany, Spain[/tags]

One of my resolutions for the New Year is to be a better Mom. Better, in that I am more conscious of how I am raising my kids to be happy, well-rounded and responsible adults. I have discovered that raising a brat is by far the easier way. Simply because all we have to do is give them what they want as opposed to thinking things through and giving them only what they need.

Heres a thoughtful letter written by a Filipino father to his daughter on the subject. It was printed in Business World Magazine.

How Brats Are Created

Who says only valuable jewelries can become heirlooms? My daughter showed me a copy of a letter written by her friend’s Dad on her 13th birthday. A few months after he wrote it, he died of a heart attack. Today, this letter is regarded as a family heirloom, shared not just with the immediate members of the family, but shown proudly to relatives and friends alike.

I felt the message in this beautiful letter should be shared with as many people as possible. So I asked my daughter if her friend - the letter’s addressee-would allow me to reprint it in BusinessWorld. She said there shouldn’t be a problem, except that a note should probably precede the letter asking the readers to share this with their young married children. Hah! a not-so-subtle inference that BusinessWorld readers are not exactly “young parents” anymore.

So, dear readers, do share this letter with your young married children. They will certainly find this letter - as I did - a very insightful treatise on how brats are created.

“Daughter Dearest Happy 13th Birthday!

“When you came to this world 13 years ago, you brought your Mom and I a lot of joy! We’ve always wanted a daughter and God in His wisdom gifted us with you.

“This is not to cast any aspersions at your four older brothers; they are also a great blessing and we love them very much, but boys are boys, and I look forward to the day when I am old and gray to have you by my side. I can’t see this happening with your brothers; you know what I mean, as we have talked about this at the dining-room table many a time.

“You have also heard me say that we are gifted with a lot of material wealth. That’s something we should be very grateful to the Lord about, but we should be aware that this has been loaned to us, as you too are loaned to us by God and that we will be asked to give a full accounting when our day of reckoning comes.

“The reason for this letter is to warn you about one big, big danger you and your brothers may face in the next few years. I have seen it happen in other families. I don’t want to see it happen here.

“I am referring to having you guys grow up as brats!” ‘Brat-manship’ is the process one has to go through to become a brat!

“Unfortunately, it is an ailment imposed by parents! They are the creators of the brats!

“In their desire to try to save their children from the difficulties they have been through, they do whatever possible to shield them from this. Little do they realize, that it is precisely these difficulties that have made them successful. Their love for their children may make them overprotective. They may even prevent them from taking public transportation. They come up with all sorts of rationalizations, going by public transportation is not safe, the buses are too crowded, the fumes on the road are bad for ones health, and so on!

“They mean well, but in the process, they deprive their children of what it really means to live in a city like Manila which is comprised of two strata of society - the ‘haves’ and the ‘have-nots!‘ And sad to say some of ‘the haves’ live in their little world. Unaware of that sampaguita vendor, drenched in the rain, so that her siblings may get a least one meal that day.

“The other day, I was with an elderly wise gentleman, we are at the Polo Club waiting for his car. There was a girl, about your age. She, too, was waiting for her car. When her vehicle got there, she jumped into the front seat, and as she did, tossed her beautiful pair of riding boots into the back seat. She then asked the driver if her Mom was home. ‘Wala po! Nagma-mah jong (She’s not home. She’s playing mah jong),’ came the reply! The car drove off.

“My friend turned to me and said, ‘There is an example of the under- privileged rich.’ Then he followed with, ‘They have everything and they have nothing.’

“This incident, short as it was, left me with a deep impression. I guess this is why I am writing this letter.

“Your Mom and I have tried to raise you kids to realize that our country is made up of the very rich and those who may not even have enough to have one decent meal a day. I hope you never lose sight of this. This is why we
have taken it upon ourselves to adopt a squatter family during Christmas and share with them some of some things to make their Christmas more meaningful.

In the process, we hope that you and your brothers will appreciate the conditions we live in. In the process, I hope that you always have compassion or these lesser fortunate. So that next time you see that sampaguita vendor knocking at our car window drenched in rain you do not get annoyed, but instead pull out your wallet and share with her in a small way your allowance.

“You will notice your brothers take public transportation to go to UP. It’s not that we can’t afford another car; we can’t afford for them to grow up thinking that its part of their ‘birth right’ to be in the ruling class.

“This is why we insisted that you do your bed in the morning, and to pick up your own toys and clothes, rather than have a yaya trailing you.

“And I could go on and on. As you are apt to say, ‘You catch my drift!’ “When you feel you are not getting enough money in your allowance, or get new shoes like your friends always had or the latest fad of Guess jeans, take this letter out and reread what I have written.

“We love you far too much to create a brat!

“Your Loving Father”

[tags]raising kids, spoiled brat, father[/tags]

Here is a wonderful Christmas Story on the meaning of Christmas from the eyes of one little girl and her family.

A very Christmas to you and your families!!

A Christmas Story

It was the year 1968. That year was an exceptionally hard year in every way. Pop was laid off due to too much snow in the woods. He was a logger. Roads were impassable and snow lay thick in the mountains. We knew there would be no Christmas. Mom had told us there simply was no money. Times were tough. We didn’t have money even for our very basic needs.

That was the year the guy from the fire department brought my sick baby brother some medicine in his four wheel drive. That was the year the snow piled up relentlessly night and day. The wind blew it under the window sills. We slept each night downstairs by the fireplace
trying to stay warm. The entire house was closed off by blankets in doorways and masking tape on all the windows. Rugs were shoved under loose fitting doors so not a breath of cold air could get in.

That was also the year that food was scarce for man and beast. Earlier in the fall, the cold and scarcity of food drove the bear into our orchard to eat any remaining plums and apples that we hadn’t canned or processed in some way. We trapped those bears, tanned their hides to use for rugs, and ate the meat to fill our bellies. Christmas dinner that year was going to be Bear Roast. There were nine of us kids, and food was scarce.

The fires were kept burning night and day. My baby brothers were set on the lids to the warming ovens above the kitchen stove and held there while they dangled there feet over the old Home Comfort. Its cheery warmth not only heated our kitchen, but it also kept their tiny
toes warm.

That was also the winter that mom ran out of formula for the baby. Not knowing what to do, we prayed that God would send our baby formula. He was allergic to milk and too young to . That day a man handed
mom an envelope of gospel tracts. There hidden in the tracts was a five dollar bill. God had answered our prayers. The baby would now get his formula.

I had only one wish that Christmas. I had seen a beautiful doll bed in the department store window. I wanted it so badly, but I knew it was way too much to ask. I could dream though, and dream I did. Mom knew how badly I yearned for a doll bed, so one day shortly before
Christmas she set about to make me that coveted gift. Taking two cardboard boxes she turned the one upside down and set the other on top. She fastened them to each other then lined them with fabric and made a little pleated skirt to cover the cardboard box underneath. She knew that on Christmas morning I would be the happiest child for miles around.

The air was filled with secrecy that Christmas, as we all tried to make each other gifts. Buttons were strung onto strings, small jars were filled with filberts to rattle at the babies, nuts piled high behind the stove in gunny sacks were cracked and sugared for treats. Once again Bear meat was on the dinner menu. But once again God had other plans.

The day before Christmas a big red truck lumbered down the lane to our house. It was the Fire Chief! Whatever was happening? Why had they come? They had chained up the vehicle to get up the snowy roads. Maybe they were bringing medicine. One year the fire department brought aspirin to all the babies on the mountain because families couldn’t get into town. But no! Wait! There were other men with him. We watched as the firemen jumped down and began unloading gifts from the truck. They piled them on to the front porch while we watched from the window. There were lots of boxes. The excitement was more than we
could bear. Beautifully wrapped gifts with sparkly bows were lined up on the porch.

Mom opened the front door to ask what this was all about. A fireman filled her arms with a box overflowing with food. “Merry Christmas,” he called over his shoulder as he stomped back through the snow for more things. My sisters and I were squealing and excitedly running from window to window in the hopes of seeing better. The babies peeked out from behind mom’s skirt.

Finally the last box was unloaded and our porch was filled with food and gifts. Everything we needed for a complete Christmas dinner was brought by that fire department. Mom was crying as she thanked the men. At eight-years-old I didn’t see what there was to cry about. I
mean one minute there was no Christmas, the next we all had gifts and a Christmas dinner! At the time I knew nothing of what lies in a mother’s heart when God so completely and wonderfully answers her prayers for Christmas for her babies.

But the firemen weren’t done. They had gone back to the truck, and now they were pulling out a huge box with a candy cane striped swing-set inside. Our joy was beyond imagination. We had spent many hours swinging in homemade swings in the apple trees, but we had never seen or dreamed of anything as lovely as this red and white swing set. Our
little hearts could hold no more.

That year was the best Christmas we ever had. The turkey from the fire department filled the place with mouthwatering smells. Gifts were opened and nowhere was there greater joy than that which was found in the old farmhouse that day.

That night, as the snow continued to blow across the dark hills, nine children lay tucked in their beds on the dining room floor. The fire gave the room a soft glow. Over in the old green chair mama rocked the baby and fed him warm formula while Pop made his bedtime rounds,
stoking the fire and checking windows and doors for any loose masking tape that would let the cold east wind inside.

That was the night that the firemen brought Christmas to little children on a cold mountain. That was the night a new doll, brought from the fire department, slept all snuggly warm in its cardboard box beside a little girl who had prayed for a Christmas.

That was the night the heavens bent low.

That was the night the angels sang.

I will forever be grateful to the men who sacrificed their time that cold Christmas Eve. I have never forgotten their labor of love and the joy they brought to our hearts. Thank you so much for bringing Christmas to our house that year. You will never know what that meant to all of us! May God bless you all!

[tags]Christmas, Holidays, Christmas dinner, Christmas Story[/tags]

Aside from filling their stocking with goodies and the presents from my husband and I, Santa also bring my two children something from their “lists”(please don’t mention the word spoiled). For my nearly-2 boy, the choice was easy - a wooden Thomas the Tank Engine set, his current obsession. For my preschooler, it wasnt as easy as every month she’d come up with something new she wanted. A few months ago it was a My Little Pony house/castle, then it was the Superman Matchbox activity game, then the Barbie 12 Dancing Princesses doll (which her classmate had, of course).

By the time Christmas rolled around, it had changed to several other highly-commercialized, overpriced toys which would probably keep her interest for a week tops, but there are kids for you. So I held off her “Santa Present” for as long as I could until I finally got my husband to the mall and told him to deal with it. In true male-style, he led me to the nearest Sports shop, asked the shop assistant for kid roller skates and voila- she had her present.

Its the strangest thing, but despite her not mentioning skates at all in her Christmas desires, when we went to that Email Santa website, it was what she mentioned FIRST in her letter!!! I don’t know how my husband knew, but the moral of the story is that sometimes, just sometimes, we Moms have to let Daddies work their own magic with the kids.

[tags]Christmas, Holidays, Christmas presents[/tags]