Tuesday, January 20, 2009


Evan has entered a new stage that can only be defined as “mine.” Actually--it is more like “MINE!”

Everything is his, Styrofoam peanuts, Goldfish crackers, my makeup, old receipts, the pillows on my bed, even the ice pack I was using after my oral surgery last week was suddenly his. He declares his ownership first and asks questions second. He thinks we have an interest in taking anything he is looking at, thinking of or already owns.

Sometimes he’ll look at us, touch his chest, give a thoughtful nod and a polite “mine,” as if he is gently explaining the item in question is, in fact, his. Other times it is much more forceful. He’ll hold the item close, shout “MINE” and then run away, just in case you didn’t get the message the first time. You know, just in case you really wanted to play with his Lightning McQueen RIGHT NOW and planned to steal it from him.

Sometimes he reminds me of one of those dogs that is raised in a huge litter, so she grabs her food and runs to make sure she gets her fair share. He isn't even two yet, so I’m wondering how long this is going to last.

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