Comfort zones

I was having a hard time getting Daniel to actually play with the new neighbor children. He'd want to go visit, but when we got to their house, he'd just stand next to me, clinging tightly to my hand. Sunday, they were all out riding bikes, and Daniel wouldn't get on one of theirs. So we walked home, got his bike (which it seems a winter growth spurt has made too small) and went back. Bingo! As soon as Daniel had something of "his own," he was tearing around with the rest of them, having a great time. Who knows, maybe he felt he had to bring something to the party, or maybe he just needed the comfort of something he called "his" before he could take part in the fun. Doesn't mean he had to be playing with it, because once he started playing, all the toys were fair game. He just had to have it there.
--Misty