If Looks Could Kill

I think DD is a lot like me. Yesterday at school, she spent playtime arranging all the large plastic animals in pairs, just like a little Noah-ette: two lions, two giraffes, two elephants, two horses. All lined up side-by-side in a row on a tabletop, looking out over the playroom. She made sure the babies were next to the parents and would re-orient the whole line if she found another matching animal. The girl likes organization.

And then an older girl took two horses and a baby elephant. You should have seen the look. But of course--this orphaned a baby horse and left childless elephant parents. It took all my self-control not to get involved, except to calmly, maturely state that the toys were for everyone and we had to share, even if the older girl should have asked.

DD did just what I would have done in the same situation: said nothing, and glared.

Actually, that's what I did, too.

It doesn't work.

So DD calmly put several animals in a basket and took them away to feed them.

Very mature.

Better than what I was ready to do, had I been younger and shorter: grab them right back!

So much for being the adult.

Give Sharing a Chance

DS wanted to crawl on top of the upside-down laundry basket where DD was perched, pretending to be riding a moose (or Moose, the character in Maurice Sendak's Little Bear, who always gives the other critters a ride--this is their favorite show right now). But there wasn't enough room mainly because DD wasn't making way.

DS tried the turn-taking techniques we've been stressing to no avail.

"Well, then I'm going to get my guitar."

And he came back and sang to her, "Get down off the basket so I can have a turn! Get down off the basket so I can have a turn! Have a tu-rn! Have a tu-rn!"

His first protest song.

That'll show her.

(Needless to say, it didn't work.)