Sharing

I have only myself to blame, I realise that. I thought I was teaching my children a valuable lesson but it would seem that my lessons have come back to bite me on the bum! What am I talking about? Sharing.

Like most pre-schoolers, Jack and Phoebe have been learning how to share since Phoebe was old enough to grab. That's the magnificent thing about having siblings - you have an automatic opportunity to practise sharing about, oh, a thousand times a day. The classic scenario replayed on a daily basis (and sometimes on an hourly basis) in our lounge room is that one child wants the exact toy that the other child has, and to avoid the spilling of blood, we "take turns" playing with the prized item. (Usually Phoebe holds it for roughly 10 seconds before discarding it blithely - she knows how to push Jack's buttons!) Now, before you assume that my children have only a handful of toys in some sort of attempt to avoid spoiling them...no. They have enough playthings to fill a Toys'R'Us (or they did before I did a massive cull when we moved in with Grandma and Grandpa...but if you won't tell, neither will I!!) Now, it may be because I am continuously asking someone to give the other a turn, or for someone to remove the other from a headlock, but I didn't think my children were ready to graduate from lessons on sharing. However it seems that I may have underestimated the sharing abilities of our children, and for that I apologise profusely.

There is one area in which my darling sprogs have learned to share supremely well, and that is the realm of germs. Jack came home from pre-school approximately three months ago with a little sniffle. By wanting cuddles from Mummy (and a few surreptitious wipes of the nose on the back of his hand), he shared his sniffle with me. I demonstrated admirable sharing skills by passing the sniffle onto Maisie whilst sneezing during breastfeeding. Maisie amplified it and shared both the sniffle, and a cough with Phoebe. Pheebs insisted on crawling into bed with Daddy when she felt poorly, and coughed in his face. This little sniffle has morphed into an ugly, phlegm-producing, snot-encrusted, room-clearing hacking cough that has done the rounds of the family twice, and is heading into it's third dose. How? Sharing.

Phoebe loves to share her used tissues with me, and has even been known to slip one in my pocket when I'm not paying attention (often enough, I assure you). Phoebs also likes to lean in close, and whisper so that you lean in too, only to receive a face full a cough-spray. An excellent tactic for the efficient sharing of bacteria.
Maisie likes to chew on things (toys, wooden train tracks, clothes, etc.) and thus shares her cute little baby pathogens with whomever chooses to clean up. (Generally, moi.) She is also an expert in-your-face-sneezer, having the added advantage of being so cute you naturally lean into her, even when she's full of boogers. Jack's method is slightly more advanced, as it is one only those in the know would ever suspect. Jack shares his germs with his teddy by rubbing his nose on teddy's fur. Teddy then travels onto the kitchen bench, into my handbag, onto Maisie's playmat...

And so, I sit here typing one-handed (yes, Maisie is on my lap for a late session again!) with a box of tissues and a rotten, stinking, head-thumping cold. I suppose one good thing is I can share some lovely cuddles with my mini snot-monster without fear of passing it on to her...however if Maisie thinks she's sharing my bed again tonight she's got another thing coming!!