Sharing

Being 3 means it’s socially acceptable to have tantrums. A lot. Sometimes over actual things.

I have experienced the tantrum that lasts so long that the tantrummer is unable to remember why it actually started.  I have also witnessed the tantrum that for practical reasons; is impossible to resolve… Enticing a wild bird to come back into our garden for entertainment purposes- against it’s will- for example.

The most common tantrum inducing scenario is when the expectation of ‘having to share’ is anticipated.

Such a situation can result in screaming, rolling on the floor, leg kicking, garment removal, threats and/or acts of physical violence toward the likely sharer… usually his sister.

As a parental passerby this  can be exasperatingly tiresome and upsetting. A variety of behaviour management techniques may be deployed at this point , often in conjunction with the comment… *through gritted teeth*

“You’ve got to learn to share!”

Now, as behaviour is a form of communication; analysing behaviour is like code cracking….working out a hidden – or not so hidden message.

I often lie awake unpicking my boy’s behaviours; both positive and negative; thinking up fathomable explanations for them, and trying to see things through his 3 year old (incredibly beautiful) eyes. (Doing this also helps me to remain calm whilst attempting to explain to a screaming banshee of a child why a Robin doesn’t have to hang out in our back garden if he/she has pressing or alternative plans.)

We’ve had a few ‘sharing’ incidents recently; thus prompting this post (and giving me a leg up back on to the blogging pony.)

Notoriously young children find it difficult to share, but we have an expectation that they should learn to.

When we were growing up, we learnt to share.

As adults, we share don’t we? We share our pens and our staplers and our …food… right??!

Of course we do…

(Then I got thinking)

I’m crap at sharing stuff I really like…

Kelly certainly doesn’t share food. (Unless I really- really like you… Or I really really don’t like the food.)

(Maybe that’s where the boy gets it from?! He’s genetically predisposed to be pap at sharing!)

Do we get better at sharing or better at hiding what we don’t want to share from potential sharers?!  I wouldn’t publicly share (for example, this has absolutely-obviously never happened…) the fact that I had bought some delicious sweets to work-  if I didn’t want to share them. I would snaffle them away in my bag and stuff my face when no-one was looking… Obviously.

Is it that we learn to share, or do we actually learn the social art of recognising when someone doesn’t want to share or items that it would be inappropriate to expect to share?!

Now, my boy really loves his building bricks. They’re his pride and joy. He carts them round the house with him, they’re for building magical towers, roads and farms.  Sometimes they’re “food bricks”, today they were “tool bricks”. They are really special to him.

His sister likes them too…sometimes. She knocks down his towers, licks the bricks and puts them in her toy pushchair. She posts them down the back of the sofa. She doesn’t use them in the same way Wee Man does. She moves them without asking him.

Imagine sharing something you really love with someone who doesn’t treat it with any respect. Imagine being told by all of those around you that you have to share this precious thing with this unpredictable person.

You’d be pretty hacked off right?

We might not display our hacked-offness by lying on the floor and kicking our legs (and I’m hoping  we’d keep our clothes on)… because… we’re not three.

Maybe my boy doesn’t need to learn to share, maybe his 18 month old baby sister needs to learn when it is socially acceptable to share, and that sharing against someone’s will… is actually… probably…stealing?!

Maybe, my boy doesn’t need to learn to share (he shares some stuff… the stuff he’s not overly bothered about), maybe he needs to learn how to hide stuff he doesn’t want to share… or…the socially acceptable way to be really mad at someone who is disrespectful toward your stuff?!

With 14.5 and 16.5 years until the babes turn 18, I’m not panicking…

…there’s plenty of time for them to learn to… share.

Phew!

Big love… as ever xxx

Advertisements

Apologies

Good evening you… gorgeous thing!!

Just thought I should probably do a quick post- so you didn’t worry something awful had happened to me…  the reason I haven’t posted recently is because (as expected) my return to work has barely left me with a moment to pee … let alone write.

I miss the old blog… and some of you gorgies have even messaged me to tell me you missed it too which is lovely.

Little Diva isn’t a huge fan of my return to work and bedtimes have become disrupted… on work nights only…. (this kid isn’t daft) so tonight I find myself feeding her to sleep for the second time… snuggled in my bed… with a spot o’ telly. I don’t mind a bit though.

Every now and again things happen around you that catch your breath, stop time momentarily and make you take stock of your life and what is really important.

Tonight… I hold my babies a little tighter and breathe in their baby smell- thankful that they are with me.

My thoughts are with a colleague and his extremely brave wife as today they face losing their baby girl shortly after her birth. Incredibly, in this time of pain and sadness they have agreed to donate their baby’s heart valves in the hope of saving another tiny life.

As I watch my little Diva fight her sleep… instead of sighing with impatience… I think of the family of Stephen Sutton, the inspirational young man who raised over £3Million for the Teenage Cancer Trust before sadly losing his battle with cancer in the early hours of this morning…  My insides ache for his parents who watched their baby fall asleep for the last time.

UK comedian Jason Manford shared his tribute to Stephen on Facebook earlier on today:

image

‘Life isn’t measured in time, it’s measured in achievements’ are wise, thought provoking and comforting words.

Even the shortest of lives can make the biggest of differences.

As I try and unprise my sweet daughter’s clenched fist from my hair without waking her… I hope I’ll make a difference in my life and I hope she’ll make a difference in hers. Mostly… I hope I never get to watch her fall asleep for the last time… I pray I’ll be watching over her and saving her a seat in heaven.

Hold those babies tight…. and if you’ve no baby- or they’re too grown up… squeeze the dog.

Be thankful for all that today brought to you…

I  am.

Big love, as ever.

♥♥♥

Ps. .. Half term week after next… so I’ll be back… got a Mum No1 from the US of A coming up soon too…