Like most experts, Brantley of Alexandria, Va.-based Ready to Learn advocates setting boundaries while allowing children to learn the negotiating skills they will need to navigate their way to adulthood.

"If a solution is imposed on the kids, they know they're supposed to comply because it's the parents' idea," Brantley said. "Particularly as children get older, I advise parents to bring kids into creating the solutions themselves. Let each child come up with a list of three or four ways to solve the problem."

Adds Singer, who also started a website, http://www.mommasaid . net, where parents can go for moral support, "I refuse to be a referee. I know a lot of parents who act as judge or lawyer, negotiating each side. I refuse to do that because that's not the way it is in real life. My rule is not to be a referee but rather a hands-off manager."

One baby-boomer mom recalls her mother's hands-off rule, "Don't call me until you see blood," and decades later gleefully relates the day she finally could tattle on her siblings for throwing punches. She got to run and tell her mother, "There's blood!"

Many families resolve everyday disputes with the rotation method — one child sits in the front seat of the car one week, the other gets it the next. Or one sits in the front on odd days while the other gets even days. The smart child will, of course, figure out that there are more odd days than even days, and that in itself can be something to argue about. (Those of you who think this is overkill have never witnessed teenagers racing to the car and shouting, "Dibs on shotgun.")

Creative solutions

Three or more children can force parents to be even more creative. One family held a monthly lottery to decide who would sit where in the minivan. Sometimes, months would go by without a child's snagging a preferred seat. That too was a lesson. "Life's not fair," the parents would respond.

Elaine Seiler of Corona recalls one civilized way her parents avoided sibling disputes when she was young. "If my mom had a dessert for us to share, she would give it to one of us to cut, and then the other got to choose the piece to eat."

Yet, for her boys, who are 5 and 9, Seiler often resorts to rock, paper, scissors. When that doesn't work, she sometimes throws the concept of civility to the wind and employs the dog-eat-dog method.

"We have a sectional sofa and the kids fight over the end that's closest to the kitchen because it's closest to the food and it's lined up with the TV," Seiler said. "It's the primo spot and, in the morning, it is first-come, first-served. We have a two-story house so that's a real motivator to get dressed first and be downstairs."

Some parents are brave enough to admit that they opt for the one solution that would give the experts fits.

When her family drove from California to Seattle with three kids sandwiched in a small car, "we knew it was going to be a tough ride," says Nancy Sandvig of Agoura Hills. "My husband bribed them with money. It worked."

Well, it may not be politically correct, but can anyone really put a price on parental self-preservation?

Robin Greene Hagey is a regular contributor to Home. She can be reached at home@latimes.com.