This might sound ridiculous, but sometimes my kids are so cute my tummy feels like I'm being tickled (sometimes they're so un-cute I could scream...but that's another blog altogether). Lately, Phoebe has been doing and saying so many cute little things that she makes me want to pick her up and squuuueeeeeezzzzeeee her! Now, before I go on, let me just clarify: does she still go to the toilet on average 36 times a day, each time needing an escort, someone to keep her company, someone to wipe, someone to turn on the tap, someone to help her dry her hands, and someone to remind her 9 times to put her knick-knacks back on? Most definitely. Does she still ask the exact same question as Jack, immediately after he has asked it and it has been answered? Absolutely. Does she dawdle for so long over her breakfast EVERY SINGLE MORNING that everyone else has finished, washed their dishes, and moved away, and the milk in her bowl has completely disappeared making the Weetbix turn into brown concrete? Yes, yes, and yes.
But.
Even with all of these infuriating characteristics, Phoebalina Ballerina has turned into the funniest, most affectionate, and ridiculously cute little girl. Or should I say, BIG girl - never, ever make the mistake of calling my middle child a 'little' girl. Even Santa was corrected (ever so sweetly) when he asked if she'd been a good llittle girl. Oh no - Phoebalicious is a big girl now, and when she is "bigger bigger bigger bigger" she is going to wear "special cream" on her face like Mummy, and wear "knocking shoes" like Mummy does when she is all dressed up.
There is absolutely no doubt that our eldest daughter dances to the beat of her own drum...and that she simply adores 80's music. Since I put my foot down and declared the car a No-Wiggles Zone, we have been listening to a variety of CDs (most of which are on repeat because I forget to change them before we go anywhere). Phoebe's favourite music genre is the 80's; Jack prefers 70's 'boom-chicka-wow-wow' disco (which often leads him to sing disturbing little riffs that sound rather like porn music...we have attracted many a raised eyebrow in Safeway!) Maisie Mouse will bop to anything with a beat, so typically we are all happy with Gold 104. (Currently the 'Eat Pray Love' soundtrack has been getting a beating in our car - particularly Track #3, which is sung completely off-key and with passion by the rug rats in the back seat!) However, when there is no music, Phoebe makes up little songs about whatever she may be doing at that very moment. We have heard little ditties about 'getting in trouble', 'putting my teddies into the naughty spot', and my personal favourite, 'the kids'. Since about November, we have been listening to a bastardised version of 'Santa Claus is Comin To Town', ad nauseum. It's so cute, Christian has recorded it for his mobile ring tone, and I can't help but smile every time I hear it coming from the toilet / bedroom / back seat / behind the wardrobe door.
All of our kids are real blondies, but Phoebs' hair is so fine, she has yet to join the pony tail brigade. Her hair is so short and wispy, we struggle to do anything with it, so the purchase of colourful hair elastics and clips to "do" her hair was met with wild excitement. Every morning, she chooses some "hair listics" that match her outfit, and I tug strands of hair into teeny tiny pig tails and pray they stay there. We have been coaxing her hair to grow for a few years now, so this morning's events were traumatic, to say the least. Jack and Phoebe were both given small toy cars with rubber wheels by Grandma and Grandpa for Christmas. While playing with them today, Miss P thought it would be a clever thing to drive her car over her head. Before you could say "bald patch", the wheels had become completely entangled in her hair and were pulling great chunks out. Christian grabbed it and stopped it before we had to cut her free, thank goodness, and luckily she only lost a handful of hair. But she didn't have that much to spare in the first place! She looked so ridiculous, standing there with big eyes while Daddy reversed the car out of her hair. I'd like to say it will grow back, I just don't know how long it will take!
Before the great hair debacle, delicious Phoebalicious was lying on my bed with me early this morning. We were just having a little snuggle before getting ready for swimming, and I was enjoying just having a moment with her. I was rubbing her back, and after a moment she wriggled, and said, "I only like a little bit of tickling, Mummy." So I stopped, and she took my hand, placed it on her arm and said, "But you can pat me here!" And for the next five minutes I was given specific instructions as to where I could pat her, when it was too tickly - it was the bossiest cuddle I ever had!! Apparently Phoebe likes to be cuddled, and you can tickle her with your fingertips for a few seconds...but only with permission, and only when she tells you! And this was all delivered with such a cheeky giggle that it was all I could do not to scoop her up and squeeze her.
This three year old madam is so funny, and so determined, and so obstinate, and so affectionate that during any one day I usually want to both throttle her and bottle her gorgeousness. How long will she be this cute? How long will she be so big and so little at the same time? How long will she play so well with her big brother, and fight so passionately with him in the same breath? How long will she desperately adore her baby sister? I hope, with every part of me, that the answer to all of the above is forever. But I wouldn't mind if she'd learn to go to the toilet by herself. That would be handy.
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