Sharing Is Caring

don't even think about it, mom

My son does not share well.  I’m sure he will, one day, but that day has not come.  Right now, if you, say, ask for a piece of his grilled cheese, the response is a resounding “Noooooo!” (sometimes, “No sank you,” but only if you’re lucky).  If you really play it up, milk it and whine “Pleeease? I’m SOOO hungry!” He will pause, think and then still say “No.”  I don’t know what my husband and I are doing wrong.  We sing the Raffi “Sharing Song” as if its a Top 40 hit. We always say “Sharing is Caring” and Charlie even repeats it.  We’ve even taken up clowning in an effort to teach, for “modeling” sake.  In a pantomime fashion, Mommy and Daddy share everything (me with my husband and he with me) and we lay the manners on thick too “Thank you so much for sharing this delicious apple with me daddy.  I was hoping you’d give me a bite and you did! Oh boy!”  Charlie just rolls his eyes and walks away “Charlie’s apple” he says, clutching his Northern Spy tightly.    

You’d think having 3 young cousins around to share toys with would help.  You’d think our twice weekly visits to the local Ontario Early Years drop in Centers, where sharing is sacrosanct, would have rubbed off on him atleast a little.  Well it hasn’t. Recently, for example, we went to the center for some play time with different toys, to play with new kids.  We were first to arrive.  Big mistake.  This sends Charlie the following message, I’m sure: Behold, Sir Charles, your very own play mansion filled with whatever toy you desire. Enjoy.  Then, of course, as it is a public place (and free, and awesome) lots of other mommies arrive with their kidlets to escape the Murky Dismal weather.  The Bob the Builder toy set Charlie has been enjoying (alone) is suddenly “under attack” as other curious children arrive and bee-line for it.  Charlie enters high-alert disaster mode and starts wailing, tears spurting from his eyes as if he’s swallowed a habenero.  He runs to me and collapses in my lap.  Its a travesty.  

Desperate, I search my local library for books on sharing.  I found one called “Mine” by Patrice Barton.  Its a book about two toddlers who fight over everything and all they keep yelling is “MINE!” and trouble ensues when their puppy starts stealing and destroying everything they fight over.  I think its a little over his head because all he does is laugh hysterically at it, especially when the teddy bear ends up soaked in the dog dish after doing an aerial over the entire living room.  This book is NOT teaching Charlie to share.  What will?

Quit Toying With My Emotions

Its not just the prerogative of grandparents anymore

One of my son’s favourite pastimes is to read a catalogue for Mastermind Toys.  He will  go to the book shelf (yes, it has book shelf status in our house) and make a point to look for it, and then he’ll sit and study every single toy in there.  He finds a lot of joy in it, exclaiming loudly, “Wow!” and “Yeah!” when he points out his very favourite toys (mostly those toys with wheels).  I recently had the brainwave of bringing him into a toy and hobby store at Mapleview mall where I experienced 21 month old fury at being penned into a stroller and forced to “look and don’t touch”. That’s not an option for my son.  Screaming doesn’t quite capture the extreme vocalized disdain he had for me when I kept trying to soothe him with redirection and reassurance, “look at this one! no I’m sorry honey we can’t play with these toys.”  I felt like a complete ass and promptly beelined for the exit.  You see, Charlie understands the difference between print ads for toys (2D) as in, not real, can’t touch and 3D (real, physical objects that EXIST) as in, can and should be able to touch.  He did not however, understand why I would bring him to such a wonderland of commercialism and then restrain him from touching anything.  He pouted for a good hour after that and his puffy, tear-stained cheeks made me feel like a moron for the next 24.   But I’m not writing here to confess my toy store + nearly 2 year old conundrum, I’m writing about my own problem for buying things that I feel Charlie should have, nay needs to have.  

Prior to motherhood, I was known to indulge in the best wines and foodie goodies, trendy clothes and jewelry, spa treatments, highlights.  I would say I enjoyed shopping for myself.  Now I channel my love of cute things into buying toys and clothes for Charlie.   You see, buying a toy for your kid is pretty satisfying, some might call it addicting.  The joy you feel when you pick out just the right thing and he plays with it happily afterward, suddenly inseparable from it.   It makes you feel really warm and tingly in a materialistic sort of way.  But the really funny thing about toys and kids is that, they may want something in the store, and so you cave and give in and satisfy their whim and then well, it sits untouched collecting dust in your house.  What I’ve discovered, especially in social situations like play group where there is a body of toys to SHARE is that what kids really want is the toy that the other kid is playing with.  It is the best toy.  And then when they get that toy, the other toy being used is the one they want.  I guess I’ve entered sharing 101.  The grass is always greener mentality starts young!  I’ll try not to do a Foucaultian analysis on children sharing 1 coveted toy but I want to talk about something else.  Found material makes excellent toys.  

On our recent trip to Vancouver, the plastic beverage cup the flight attendant handed Charlie was way better than the 25 kg of primary colored, plastic distraction I paid to haul on board with me to occupy Charlie.  Twigs are also very cool, dead bugs, trash at the park that Charlie must pick up and put in the garbage (so sanitary), things he’s not supposed to play with make excellent toys too (the cordless phone, tv remote, mom’s tampons).  And lately, he’s been on a domestic jag, favouring the swiffer broom, mini dust pan and hand broom, dust buster, etc.  He even inspects the waste baskets around the house and brings them to me to put in the big kitchen garbage if they’re getting full (e.g. if they have 1 thing in them).  Did I mention he is 21 months old?  I’m quite ok with having him circle the house pushing a swiffer broom - it saves me loads on Molly Maid!   

My final remark on the subject of toys relates to second handiness (a skill every spoiling mom should possess).  Once Upon A Child, Value Village, Garage Sales, Mom-to-Mom sales, Church sales, Kijiji, Craigslist, Momstown, etc.  USE these.  There is no point at paying full price for something your son is going to submerge in the toilet, throw down the stairs, use as a stepping stool, put down his diaper or peel the decals off of. 

Milestones

The loathed shades are now a necessity

I sh*t you not, the day, nay mere hours after I created this blog and published my welcome post, my garburator backed up and I had a flood in my kitchen.  I will try not to take this as an omen that no one will ever visit and enjoy my motherhood musings, but instead will reflect on the literalness with which people might take my blog title.  With a grain of salt my friend, with a grain of salt.
Lemongrass stalks, for example, not garbage disposal friendly.  Neither are bread tie tags or whole cobs of corn.  Just saying.

Today was a good day, we hit three family milestones today.  One, Charlie is 19 months and actually requested (through motioning, grunts and screams) that he wear his sunglasses on his walk today.  The same sunglasses he has refused since we got them (months now).  I was equal parts mystified and impressed.  He looks very dashing in his shades.  Such a big boy.  I try to repeat to myself something my husband coined so that I don't go insane and overanalyze everything.  Behold his pearl of wisdom: "He's a different baby everyday.  A different baby everyday."  This has kept me somewhat flexible I must admit.  And child-centered.  Today Charlie does not like bananas.  The fact that he ate one every morning for the last 9 months should not be taken into account.  He's a different baby today.  If he decides to keep them on until sundown I will have no choice but to play Corey Hart loudly over my stereo. 

The second milestone was that we got a Costco membership (hello suburban couple!), and used it to buy $75 worth of diapers and wipes.  We project we'll be set until at least September on the poopy diaper front.

The third and final milestone is that Charlie, today at the park, actually paid attention to another toddler named Denis.  Up until now, no other child can compete with the fascination that a blade of grass, passing car, his own feet can provide to him.  Denis' Russian grandmother insisted that Denis share his rake and pail and shovel with Charlie.  This gesture utterly captivated Charlie's attention, and he could not tear his eyes away from little Denis for the remainder of our park visit.  To Charlie, Denis' generosity was that of the Dalai Lama.