A Love-Hate Relationship

Christopher and I always fought like Real Housewives,
though we didn't look nearly as fierce!

If you have any brothers or sisters, then you know that relationships between siblings can be both wonderful and terrible. I have two brothers, and I know that, while we have always truly loved each other, there have been times when we have fought like we were Real Housewives or something. As the middle child and the only girl, I have had a unique experience that I think gives me many advantages. Although I have always somewhat wished I could also have had a sister, I wouldn’t trade my brothers for anything in the world. Being the only girl means that I learned how to easily relate to boys, plus I was really good at things like throwing a football, throwing a baseball, and a myriad of other sports-related activities.

In my family, my younger brother, Devin, has always been the most even-tempered and the calmest of the three of us. Growing up I would rarely fight or argue with Devin, and I also didn’t pick on him that much, as older sisters are often want to do. Devin was always just so sweet, and he had a little bowl haircut and big, blue-green eyes, so picking on him would have been like doing something mean to an innocent little puppy or kitten. Devin’s calm nature and even temper have also probably added back many years to my mom’s life that my older brother and I probably took off during our teenage years.

My older brother, Christopher, and I were always like oil and water. As far as fighting goes, we were absolute champs. I am pretty sure no two people have ever been better at needling each other and arguing with each other than Christopher and I were growing up. My mom has always described us as the actor and the reactor, with Christopher being the former and I being the latter. As my older brother, I understand that Christopher was almost required to make my life difficult, as that seems to be what older brothers throughout the ages have done to their younger sisters.

Is there a resemblance? You be the judge!

My first memory of the shenanigans in which Christopher and I engaged comes from when I was about four or five years old. As kids, we were always spending time with my cousins, and, one day when we were at their house, Christopher decided to have some fun at my expense. My cousins had these rubber toys that looked like sea creatures, including a realistic rubber lobster that was about seven or eight inches long. Well, I was so terrified of that lobster that you would think it was Freddy Krueger or something. On the day I remember, Christopher led the charge of chasing me around the house with the lobster, followed by two of my cousins who were likely brandishing other terrifying sea creatures. I remember the abject terror I felt as I tried to hide behind a recliner to escape the lobster’s dreadful gaze. Also, I am pretty sure that, in spite of admonishments by my mom and my aunt, “chase Audrey with the rubber lobster” was a beloved game during those years.

Another incident I remember occurred when I was probably seven or eight years old, and when Christopher was ten or eleven years old. We were playing in the backyard, and I was chasing him. Whenever I would get close to catching him, he would say, “I better get the heck out of here!” But, one time, when he was almost within reach of my fingers, he yelled, “I better get the hell out of here!” I knew that hell was some type of bad word, but I hadn’t yet developed the type of bad word severity gauge that children acquire as they get older. Plus, I had heard my dad say dammit sometimes, so I figured that hell was probably not that bad either.

Also, my Achilles' heel when it comes to my older brother has been that I have always looked up to him and admired him, which has given him a distinct advantage in matters of sibling harassment, as was the case in this situation. A few minutes later, when Christopher was chasing me, I responded by proudly copying him and announcing, “I better get the hell out of here!” Upon hearing this pronouncement, rather than continuing to chase me, Christopher proceeded immediately to the side door of the house, marched inside, and informed my mom that I had said a bad word. I do not remember if I got in trouble or not, but I am pretty sure I must have told my mom that Christopher said the bad word first.

I don’t want to give you the impression that it was always Christopher doing things to me, and that I was always the innocent victim. Sometimes Christopher and I played the roles of actor and reactor to a T, which could prove to be very, very bad. One day, when I was about twelve, Christopher, Devin, and I were playing in the aboveground swimming pool in our backyard. We were play fighting like we were doing karate, and I remember pretending to do leg kicks underwater. It was all fun and games until, likely inspired by images of The Karate Kid, and with an anger fueled by years of being terrorized with a rubber lobster, I really did kick him—right smack in the crotch. It wasn’t a gentle kick, either, and I remember Christopher doubling over in pain. I have no idea why I did that, but I can say that I don’t think I had a full understanding of the fact that you just do not kick a man in the family jewels, unless he is trying to attack you or something. No doubt mom was immediately called, and I probably got in trouble, as I should have. Also, hopefully someone explained to me how sacred a man’s cojones are to him.

While I do have memories of fighting with Christopher and of each of us annoying the other, I also have memories of us having long, personal conversations, and even of us being—gasp!—like friends to each other. When I was in high school and college Christopher was often the person I would go to for advice, and the person I would confide in. As I had when I was younger, I still looked up to him, and, as we had when we were younger, we would still argue sometimes. After I got married, my relationship with my older brother suffered, as did many of my other relationships. Trying to be someone you are not can wear down even the strongest bonds, and Christopher’s and my arguing returned to childhood levels during that time. As I said earlier, the way I looked up to and admired my brother was always my Achilles heel, both because it allowed him an advantage in childhood fights, but also because I put him up on such a pedestal that he had a much longer way to fall than anyone else in my life. If he did something that let me down, it bothered me that much more than it did when anyone else in my life let me down, and I let this fact come between us.

Today, Christopher and I have a much
more loving relationship than we
have ever had before.

Today Christopher and I have a better relationship than we have ever had before. Now that we are both well into our thirties and have had time to shed our twenty-something angst and turmoil, we are able to have a calmer, relatively argument-free relationship. Each of us has been able to work through many of our issues, and now we are able to relate to each other as adults and friends, rather than as little kids who are constantly struggling for power. This is not to say that we do not enjoy making jokes at each other’s expense, but these jokes are usually really funny, and they are never mean-spirited, and I think this is the best way we could have transformed our constant arguing.

Today I no longer consider my admiration of my brother to be my Achilles' heel, but rather an asset, as it contributes to the wonderful sense of family and belonging I am lucky to be able to experience. Today, if Christopher were to chase me around the house with a rubber lobster, I would still scream and try to hide behind the recliner, although I would not kick him in the cojones because, first, today I understand that you just don’t do that to a man, plus Christopher wants to have kids, and I do not want to destroy that dream for him by causing him a mortal injury. In fact, today I would never consider kicking my brother in the crotch for any reason, but that’s just because I love him so much.

Real Housewives image courtesy of http://bossip.com/570007/making-it-rain-on-them-house-hoes-the-salaries-of-the-rhoa-have-been-leaked-43081/

Freddy Krueger image courtesy of http://www.fanpop.com/clubs/horror-legends/images/3696179/title/freddy-krueger-photo

Rubber lobster image courtesy of http://tapirgal.blogspot.com/2008/11/red-plastic-rubber-lobster-back-in.html

Heart image courtesy of http://clipartist.net/svg/heart-highlight-1-super-duper-svg/