Wednesday, July 15, 2009


This is from May, I wrote it and apparently forgot to post (oops).

"Mine!" is a word heard often among young children. I'm not sure at what age it typically starts, but in our family, 4 seems to be when it originates. That was the point at which we first heard Cuddlebug and Bearhug say "mine" and recently Little Bitty said it for the first time too.

We were at a church event and Cuddlebug and Bearhug were looking at one of Bitty's books. Little Bitty was unimpressed, and came out with one of his clearest sentences yet:

"Mine! Dass MY book!" he yelled.

He clamored across my lap in an attempt to yank it from Cuddlebug's hands.
"Dass MY book! Dass MY book!"

Cuddlebug seemed oblivious, so I nudged him and asked him to please give Bitty the book. He was about to protest when I handed him a different book. The trade was accepted, the original book returned to Bitty, and the escalating scene was diffused. Whew!

This was in the middle of an otherwise quiet moment. Perhaps it might have sounded rude to the other people there, and I worked quickly to diffuse the situation, but I couldn't help feeling excited for his reaching this developmental milestone.

Good for you, Bitty. That IS your book, and I'm proud of you for recognizing that fact and for not being afraid to say so. I'm grateful that you used your words (albeit loudly) to say what you wanted, rather than just jumping across my lap, smacking your brother, and yanking the book from him.

I was equally proud of Cuddlebug's reaction. No screams of indignation. No squeals of "but I had it first!" He accepted the trade peacefully enough, and he moved on.

Meanwhile, Bearhug was pacing vigorously in the back of the room. When that no longer helped, he laid down on the floor and started rolling around. I knew it was overstimulation and not misbehavior, so I didn't intervene. He was in the back of the room where he wasn't distracting anyone unless they happened to turn around. I was proud of him too, for finding a quiet outlet for his overstimulation and actually staying in the room with the rest of us.

Luckily, it was a fairly short event :).

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SAHD DAD on July 18, 2009 at 9:27 PM said...

It's definitely the small things which make me happiest. My four year old has an issue with getting into other people's personal space. When he recently told me that I was getting too close to him, I was overjoyed. It may not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but it meant the world to me.

My SAHD Life: It's The Little Things

Anonymous said...

May or June or July - that story brings a smile to my face, too.

I really don't understand why anyone would think Bitty's behavior was bad.
Had either boy escalated to 'meltdown' I'm sure you would have managed that well, too. Give yourself some credit for the boys' behavior, too.

Woohoo for all of you (include Dad, too!)

K on July 21, 2009 at 12:52 AM said...

what a great devt leap
Danette - I dont know why but my bloglist no longer updates when you do - ughh I ma missing all your posts

UPrinting on July 21, 2009 at 3:35 AM said...

Hooray for Little Bitty! And for Cuddlebug and Bearhug as well :) I'm sure you are so proud of them. Even if this happened in May and you only posted about it, that doesn't take away the fact that they've been behaving really great :) Congratulations to you too as well, for having seemed to master the art of preventing tantrums :)

The Farmer Files on July 21, 2009 at 11:15 AM said...

LOL funny what motivates them!

Krystal on July 21, 2009 at 11:39 AM said...

The mine phase is yeap - 4 years old! that is when Sneaky Monkey just started with it and as well, albeit loudly too...

so glad that the kids were able to find their ways in a minute uncomfortable situation - those are the best days

Anonymous said...

Wow! Good for all of them!!! =D

Anonymous said...

Yes, good for all of them! I completely understand rejoicing over things that others might consider misbehavior.


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I'm a mom of three boys on the autism spectrum, 11-yr-old identical twins and a 7-yr-old. My husband is a SAHD.


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