The boys are now at the age where they are fighting, oh, about 99.999% of their waking hours together. It seems I spend all my time making sure they don't kill each other. Strangely, the .001% of the time when they're sweet together actually DOES make up for all the fighting because it's just so cute. It will go quiet and I'll rush into the room thinking surely they're both dead, why else do I not hear screaming? And I find them sitting on the couch together, Alex's arm around Max, watching Word World or looking at a book. Of course the moment is fleeting, if I blink, I miss it, Max will then drool on Alex or Alex will squeeze his brother a little too aggressively or the dog will walk by and disturb the delicate atmosphere and they're fighting again.
In our house, even when Zach and Rachel are being nice to each other, someone still ends up getting hurt. There is playing (nicely but too wild) and there is fighting. There is no in between, and it's hard to tell the difference between the two.
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