As an only child growing up, I did not like sharing anything. Food was a particularly picky area for me. Friends or family would never dare eat off my plate, and if I had a blueberry muffin, i'd never just have half. Sure, I was a little spoiled. This mentality continued well into and through my twenties, even as I tried to adjust to my in-laws' ways of passing plates around at dinner to taste what one another ordered. If my husband drank out of my coffee cup or Coke can, I was done. If a friend put her fork on my plate to grab something, I was grossed out. It was all about me.

Then, at 31, I had my first son. And I grew up.

I learned to share with him, and I didn't care one bit that I had less. In fact, even if I was starving, i'd give him my last bite, my only brownie, the only perfectly ripe banana or my favorite lunch.

I guess what's changed most since becoming a mom is ME. And what surprised me is that a little kid actually forced me to grow up!