I have spent most of my adult life raising our family. "Mommy" was born just after I turned 26. Let's just say I have more than doubled that number - and that is all you really need to know! With six kids and all of their friends around the house, there were a lot of opportunities to teach lessons on sharing. Actually, those lessons occurred at least daily and sometimes hourly. I now babysit grandchildren and a friend's children and the lessons go on. The whole thing is not much smoother than it was when my gang was little.
They fight over the darnedest things! Some silly plastic piece of a toy from a kid's meal usually takes the hot seat. You would think that it was made of gold and the most precious thing that they have ever seen, when it is nothing more than a plastic dog or something similar. But they way they tug at it and scream about it can wreck your mind! My solution to not sharing when it occurs a little too frequently in one day, is to put the two offending parties in a chair together and make them hold hands. It is a hoot to watch what transpires. I have seen them start to giggle, I have seen them try to let go of hands, and I have heard them instantly say "I am sorry, can I stop holding hands now?"
The problem I have right now is realizing that not only have I taught the children to share, but I have also had to share my belongings with the kids too. I don't want to share any more! I get it now from their perspective. I often hear myself saying things like "That is mine, and you can't play with it!" or "Don't touch my things!" And you know what? It sounds perfectly reasonable to me. Besides, I am bigger and in charge! I get to say that stuff.
I have also devised ways to keep them from getting my stuff. Don't get me wrong, some of it, like my sweatshirts still goes home on "Mini Me's" back. There are things that I hate not having when I need them - like batteries. I hate it when a battery goes dead and reach for a new one and the box is empty. The box is there but it is empty! So, like some crazy person I now "stash" batteries around the house. My children are now forced to ask me for batteries when they need them and just in case they see where I have stashed them, when the kids are out of the house, I move them to a new location! Brilliant, right?! Yea, well getting older and filling my head with so many things has made me forgetful. I am going to have to create some sort of treasure map to keep track of where I have hidden the batteries lately so that I can find them when I need them. Back to square one - I need batteries, but I don't have them or at least can't find them. My kids would call that poetic justice.
Wife, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Nurse, Grandmother, Friend...that's me in a nutshell!