Share and share alike...

Before I begin, let me say that I have been fighting back the urge to edit the last post, as over the past couple of days I have been recalling more words that Ethan can say; but I am not going to be "that" mom. I don't need to prove that Ethan has words, nor do I need to keep a count of how many he has (except in my own little notebook between the couch cushions. just kidding. maybe.)

Along with the word-of-the-day game (today we heard "crazy" and "gotcha!"--shit, I'm doing it, aren't I?), Ethan has also begun to play around with the idea of sharing. He and his friends are actually becoming aware of the world around them and that others want a turn at what they're doing, or a chance to play with what they have in their hot little hands at the moment. Amazing.

He seems particularly keen on sharing food. With me. This is not so good. If you've looked at my other blog (the weight loss one, not the book one. deargod, I'm a nerd), you'll see that sharing Ethan's high-fat, calorie-laden, "just put on a freaking pound, kid!" food is not necessarily a great thing for me right now. So I have become a master at fake eating. It involves taking giant pretend bites and over-emoting about what a tasty morsel of yumminess I have been given, and how nice he was to share it with me. This positive reenforcement, of course, leads to more sharing. I have had more than my share of Thomas the Train sippy cups shoved in my face. Whole milk is not my friend.

But it's not just his attempt to beef up mommy that have us feeling the love; he's been taking turns on red-rider wagon rides with his friend Lily, getting off of Chloe's ride-on toys so she can have a go, and gladly handing over toys, without being asked, at play group.

I know this will eventually lead to some serious shove-fests and embarrassingly red-faced, toy-clutching tantrums, and moments of me feeling utterly and glaringly incompetent as a parent, but for now, in it's experimental stage, it is so much fun to watch. Because Ethan doesn't just share with his human friends.

No, he also likes to share with the kitties. This evening, for example, he was pretty emphatic that Abby have a few sips of his milk after dinner. Now, Abby is more of a lapper than a sippy cup cat, so she didn't actually partake. Had he been able to pour it out into a nice little saucer, perhaps she would have obliged him. Still, it's the thought that counts.

Here are some pictures of him spreading the love:

Mama went on a baking-tear and we shared a spatula o' chocolate (no internet, I didn't let my child eat raw batter, rife with salmonella; it is just chocolate frosting and butter whipped together for a no-bake cookie. Thankfully, he ate most of it.

First it's your turn...

Then, with no screaming or shoving or crying, it is my turn! Imagine that.

Mr. Ducky loves him some fig newton...

And don't forget to wash that down with some milk, Mr. Ducky...

Even his toys must share with each other. Here, Wally, the Red Sox mascot has given up his comfy Adirondack chair for the over-worked, under-paid bus driver from Fisher Price land. Clearly he needs a break; those little plastic kids are freaking hellions.