It's a Fluid Term at Two

Sharing.

They're pretty good at the receptive aspect of sharing, but the giving side is ... more of a challenge.

"He's not sharing with me!" (Or often, to my amusement, "at" me.) What it usually means is that Child A is not forking over any and all toys demanded by Child B. Immediately. And forthwith.

So we learn nuances of sharing. How sharing involves take AND give, how you can ask for something, and then have to wait a bit. We learn various techniques of sharing: the art of suggesting a trade, or taking turns or (oh, happy day!) playing TOGETHER with the item.

"He's not sharing with me!" Milan is indignant. "Ilona, Owen is not sharing with me." With Milan, I suspect it's a matter of Owen not complying with his demand request immediately and forthwith. Though, it is just possible that Owen has snitched one of Milan's toys and is refusing to give it back. This has been known to happen.

I look up from my task of "helping" Dominic return the forty gazillion toys he has dumped from the bins onto the dining room floor. It only took him 3.8 seconds. The boy gets more efficient by the day!(You may note, when you come in this evening, that the toy shelves are no longer in the dining room. It's a temporary measure, but, I assure you, essential.)

I look up, and I am confronted with this:


Milan is mildly offended by my shout of laughter. (I often offend the boy in this way. I just DO NOT take things seriously enough. It's most exasperating.)

"Milan, you nutbar, (This does not cause offense. He smiles, hopefully.) "You can't even hold the toys you've got. I don't think you need any more." (He scowls, reprovingly, then scrambles to pick up a dropped toy.)

"If Owen (now it's Owen scrambling to pick up escaping toys) wants to trade with you, he might do that, but I really don't think you need any more toys."

They look at each other. You know, sometimes Ilona is singularly unhelpful.

"Go play, silly boys." I ruffle their hair, one hand on each blond head... and cause a cascade of toys to the floor.

The boys look at the heap of toys at their feet, then plonk their butts down on the floor and play. With all the toys. Together. Sharing, even!

I wish I could say I had anything to do with that...