1 Moment. 1 Pattern. 1 MicroStep. 1 Question.

1 MOMENT

When your kids are fighting over the good chair at the table, again, for what feels like the fourth time today, and you're already rehearsing how you're going to referee it.

You dive in: who sat there first, who's been waiting longer, whose turn it "actually" is. And if you stop and let yourself ponder, you realize their responses don’t change much: perhaps it’s that your younger one's voice climbs fast, your older one's face gets determined.

You could write the script blind at this point, because you're the one who usually writes it, and usually, the ending is the same: she gets blamed, he gets the chair.

Today you try something different. You crouch down between them and say,
"You had it first, and you're not ready to give it up."
Then, to the other one, "And you've been waiting, and you think it's your turn."
No verdict yet.
Then: "That's a tough one. I bet you two can figure it out."

And you go back to your emails.

It doesn't go quiet right away. One of them argues her case a little louder, like she wants to make sure you heard. You keep writing (or at least pretending!). You don't step back in.

A minute goes by. Then another. It's not really diplomacy, one of them says, "Fine, you go first, but then it's mine," but nobody's crying, and nobody needed you to hand down a verdict.

1 PATTERN

🙋‍♀️🙋 Hands up if you think our job in a moment like this is to figure out who's right.

Remember those World Cup matches? A player goes down like turf gremlins yanked his ankles out from under him, clutches his shin, and the whole stadium groans. Sometimes, it's real. Many times, it's not. 

Why does it keep happening? Because it works! I call this the Vegas Rule: it’s not really a soccer story, it's a slot machine story. It’s called a variable reinforcement schedule: 

Getting what they want, just occasionally (note: not every time) is the single most powerful pattern there is for making a behavior stick.

That’s why slot machines are more addictive than a vending machine that pays out every time you put in a dollar. Low odds aren't a deterrent.

Uncertainty is the hook.

A converted penalty scores something like three out of every four times, in a sport where a single goal usually decides the game. Against that payoff, a yellow card is nothing.

Kids learn the exact same lesson in your kitchen. 

The feeling underneath a sibling fight is almost always real, they do both want the turn, but the size of the performance, the wail, the "that's not fair," the tears that arrive suspiciously on cue, is shaped by what's gotten a ruling in their favor before. 

That’s why we say parenting is so hard! It doesn't take much: if the loudest kid wins the verdict even once in a while, you've built something harder to undo than if he won every time. You've built a slot machine. 

And nobody stops playing a slot machine that only has to pay out once in a while.

1 MICROSTEP

See each of their perspectives. Don’t take a side. Let them have a go at figuring it out.

It can sound like this:
"You had it first, and you're not ready to give it up."
"And you've been waiting, and you think it's your turn."
"That's a tough one. I bet you two can figure it out."

Don’t be the ref.
No "you had it longer, so it's his turn now."

Then go do something with your hands, answer the emails, load the dishwasher, whatever keeps you nearby but not presiding. Give it a minute or two before you decide it isn't working.

Disclosure: obviously this is for the everyday tug of war, not for real aggression. If someone's getting hurt or steamrolled, that’s not what this MicroStep is for. I’ll share what to do for that in the next MicroStep Tuesday.

1 QUESTION

This week, pick one squabble. Instead of ruling on it, reflect what's true for each side, hand it back, and watch what happens.

Commit to trying. Give it a go. And share with me what happened.

Mary
Creator, the MicroStep Method®

P.S. At the end of your robe with sibling fighting? Siblings Without Rivalry by Faber and Mazlish is timeless.