Yours, Mine, Ours

Little M's newest phase is an obsession with possessions -- My car! Mommy's book! Daddy's drink!

Helping me with the laundry he correctly identifies each piece of clothing and who it belongs to before placing it in the washer -- Mommy's shirt. Grrr's pants. Daddy's sock.

Helping me make pumpkin bread he points at each loaf -- Mommy's. Daddy's. Hmmmm, no. Mommy's. Little M's.

And inevitably, when playing with Grrr, Little M must make it clear that all the toys belong to him. For now Grrr is usually thrilled at Little M's habit of stealing whatever toy he's playing with and placing it just out of his reach. He squeals with delight and quickly army crawls after it.

Watching Little M struggle with the concepts of possession, sharing, and generosity makes me think about my own tendancies. What sort of example am I setting? Gone are the days of declaring an item "Mommy's!" to make it off limits. Now I have to explain why an item isn't for Little M to have or touch. And when he asks "Please?" ever so kindly I have to think twice before saying no. Sometimes it means I loose a few bites of pumpkin bread and othertimes is means my mail is more wrinkled than usual -- a small price to pay to see Little M happily offer up a car to his brother without even knowing Mommy is in the room. That's a small bit of heaven right there.


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