There are days when I leave the room shaking my head and wondering what I'm doing wrong. No one listens to me so I emphasize my point by facing the wall and screaming, "WHY CAN'T YOU GUYS JUST GET ALONG?" It makes all of you stop arguing, if just for a second, and someone replies that you are listening but that he took something and won't give it back and that's hers not his but was actually yours first. On good days when I'm feeling especially witty I call one of my siblings on the phone and pretend to argue with them to demonstrate how silly it sounds. "You are a bad bad big old bad brother! GIVE IT BACK TO ME! I don't like you. Anymore!" I yell into the phone. The comedic act never fails to bring a smile to everyone. "My wish is for you three to get along and work as a team." I tell you often.

Yesterday I witnessed one of my proudest moments.

Naturally, it started with a sibling argument over how-long-it-too-long for a turn on the trampoline. "That's not fair! She's is totally taking a too long time." "Mama... it's my turn." The fighting escalated to the point of Feenie throwing sandals off of the deck and into the forest behind the house, solidifying everyone's return back inside for some quiet time. "IF YOU GUYS CAN'T GET ALONG, YOU ARE DONE PLAYING!" I shouted. Barefoot and angry, the three of you pouted all the way home.  And, of course, troubled followed us. Somehow Feenie managed to find the world's largest splinter and successfully got it lodged deep inside her heel.

The removal was difficult and I was on the verge of driving to urgent care.

That's when you guys went into crisis mode. You consoled your sister, brought her pillows and stuffed animals, held her hand, massaged her leg and promised her everything would be okay. I could not have calmed the wild banshee down without you. "You keep massaging her leg and I will go grab her shark!" "Okay! Sounds good. Don't forget her unicorn - she loves it!" Everything was going great until the ice cream truck turned onto the street and both of you fled chanting "ICE CREAM". I hung my head in shame. "Eighty-seven. Eighty-eight. Eighty-nine." You counted through the change jar and flagged down the ice cream truck. I felt totally defeated. The splinter wasn't budging. And now I was on my own wondering how I raised such selfish humans. Until.

Minutes later both of you returned home, with a treat for your sister.

Splinter out!

And my heart exploded. You guys will be fine. Just fine.