Holy Canoly

Two traumatized kiddos, one that rages, yells and throws the fake-est toddler fits ever. It's familiar. We can handle it, as obnoxious as it is. We sing opera off pitch, tone, and tune "in unison". We coerce eye contact and tickle while forbiding smiles.
Another that turns into a cat and chatters and mumbles at fifteen billion miles an hour. She gets anxiety rashes and hyper-focuses on the animals. We're remembering the routine: Stop, eye contact, restate, start over.
The need totally different things for what is starting to look like VERY similar issues.
Add bad dreams and night terrors back into the mix, which is ok as long as I'm here, sucks if I'm not.

All in all, a little sibling competition seems to make cooperation more likely: they both want to be smarter, help more, and be the star.

They both want attention at.all.times.

We can't find Fe's prescriptions. From SD. Poo.

I love them both so much it makes me CRAZY!