Mine!

My daughter's mission in life, besides watching Dora the Explorer on an endless loop with her eyelids propped open by toothpicks, is to own everything in the world. I know this is no surprise, as all almost-20-month-olds fall in love with the word "mine." It's just particularly funny/horrifying (depending on my mood) this time around because of the sibling factor. When Connor was this age, if he said "Mine!" he was generally right. All the toys actually were his. But now that all those baby toys have been pulled back out for Chloe, there is somewhat of a gray area regarding what is her "mine" and what is his "mine." Billions of times a day, I hear Chloe start screaming "Mine! MINE!"after Connor has ripped whatever toy he recognizes from his youth right out of her appropriately-aged hands, showing her how the big kids play this game with a mature declaration of, "Yeah, that's mine." She will continue screaming as I conduct a pointless negotiation along the lines of, "Yes, Connor, that book was originally yours. But do you really need a book of baby faces containing five words total on ten pages of book? Really? Even if those words are red, blue, green, yellow, and pink?" This just spurs Chloe on, though, as she grabs toys and books indiscriminately, loading as much into her arms as possible while continuing to shriek "MINE!" Fortunately I know the way to pull us out of this downward spiral - I can always grab the remote and bring the warring factions together with the help of our favorite Latina peacemaker.