There's a slightly more kid-appropriate poster floating around (that I can't seem to get to show up here) on it's paid way to be printed in large format at Staples as I type this. It reads "If you can't be kind, be quiet." Not only is it a little sweeter (even though the original is my favorite), it's also more realistic, since my two older girls are stuck here, and with each other, in their tiny little shoebox-sized room for the foreseeable future.
Various other effects of our screaming 6:15 wake up call are also in play including, but not limited to my higher than average blood pressure, Carly cleaning all the baseboards downstairs and having lost this afternoon's playdate, Bree making both beds and cleaning out the little bits of stuff under the beds and Katie being awake a full hour earlier than she should be.
Unfortunately, this is not the first time (this week) that my two older girls have greeted the dawn with a screaming fight. Well, I mean, Bree is screaming. Carly is just whispering mean things because she's old enough to try not getting heard being nasty and awful to her sister. Bree is super touchy and irritable and decides to share that emotion with the rest of the western world, or at least all of us and the people on either side of us.
It's not fun for two reasons: 1) A huge yelling fight is hardly way to begin the day. In fact, the perfect lovely wonderful parallel-universe family I imagine and not-so-helpfully compare my real live family to would never EVER start off their day with fighting! It's all singing and hugs and sweetness in their (clean and organized) house. and 2) It hurts my heart to hear them being mean to one another. Partly this is because of my not-helpful perfect family ideal and partly this is because conflict makes me anxious.
Either way, it stinks and it has to end. The poster may or may not help, but at least the baseboards are clean.