School has returned to the line up.

It's brought early mornings and jammed packed afternoons. The endless washing of thermoses and environmentally appropriate water bottles. The emptying and repacking of lunch boxes and backpacks. And a hustle to get in the bed at an early enough time.

There's more laundry floating through the wash and more reminders drifting through the air. And suddenly, there are more fights.

Perhaps it can be blamed on the boys being overtired.  It always takes a while to fall into the school routine. Maybe it's the first day, first week, novelty wearing off.  The acceptance that this school thing will be around for the next nine months.

Whatever the culprit, a new breed of arguing has been unleashed. Silly me, I had no idea there could be so many different styles.

It's not like the old days, where I could feel the storm brewing. Emotions don't escalate. The intensity doesn't build. Instead, fights are unpredictable, appearing without warning.

Little Guy hovering over Big Guy's shoulder as he reads the morning sports section can start a ruckus. Big Guy not moving out of the way as Little Guy struggles to find a spot at the sink to brush his teeth can cause an outbreak. A backpack blocking clear passage to freedom outside the car can lead to mayhem. And an under-the-breath comment passed while they sit and muddle through homework screams "fight fight fight."

We are now operating with two extremes. Love or hate. The tiny tolerance that Big Guy and Little Guy used to have for each other has faded, replaced by what I can only call utter detest. There are moments they walk away from each other, disgusted that they even have to share the air.

I've come up with a theory to explain the increase in fighting. Lately, the boys are just too together.

While the school year forces the boys to be apart for long stretches during the day, those hours before and after school are spent in close proximity to each other. They wake together, eat together, and dress simultaneously. They drive to school together. Drive home together. Do homework at the same time and then get lugged to activities. Together. And I've discovered that too much together time is just too much.

I yearn for the lazy days of summer. Where I think my boys almost forgot they had a sibling. Of course, they still lived in the same house. They shared the same table and the same bathroom. The same couch and the same yard. Even many of the same friends.

Yet by the end of the summer, the boys felt more like buddies than brothers. Because of our laid back routine, when they'd had enough of each other, they could walk away. And since there was no place to rush off to, they could escape and cool down. Sort of like what happens between friends.

Unfortunately, friendship has fallen by the wayside as the return to school has quickly reminded the boys that they are indeed brothers. And I am forced to do what any mother in my shoes would do. Hold my breath, resist the urge to commentate, reprimand and issue ridiculous threats that do nothing to stop them from getting on each other's nerves.

Instead, I hold onto the hope that by Thanksgiving break, when they are given the chance to be less together, they can remember how to be friends.

Illyse appears Thursdays on TriangleMom2Mom.