In my earlier days as a parent of two, I decided that certain toys didn't need to be shared. Certain blankets, stuffed animals that were dearly loved, and brand new birthday presents held a "special" status. The theory was that there should be certain things that are yours, and you shouldn't have to part with things that really do hold a high sentimental value to you. New birthday presents hold this "special" status temporarily and then they become free game to whomever gets them first.
In my defense, I meant well.
Now everything in the house is "special," in a way that only a two or four-year-old can yell out as they are claiming something that their sister has/had/might have in the next week.
"It's my special!!!" Savannah will yell.
"This is really special to me." Abbie will try to explain about a toy she has ignored for months.
The "specialness" of any particular item is fairly random, held together only by the
imagined fear knowledge,that their sister might want it. It has been applied to burp clothes, baby dolls, and random pens.
"Nothing is special!!!" I want to yell, but somehow I don't think that would fix things.
2 comments:
Oh, at our house everything is "special." Which really means, nothing is special and everything is "first come, first serve." All I can say is "Ditto, Sista."
This happens in our house, too, although not so much now as it used to. But it makes me think of The Incredibles: "When everything is special...nothing is!"
Post a Comment