About

Things My Daughter Says is, as the name suggests, all about my daughter Arwen and the things she says. Having been fascinated by how children learn language for a long time (ex-English teachers are like that) I started writing this blog when Arwen was 19 months old, noting down all the entertaining things she comes out with. And she comes out with a lot.

New blogs go up every Sunday evening, but you can also follow what she’s up to on Twitter @DaughterThings

Foots and Falled

2 years, 9 months, 29 days old

It’s been a good while since I’ve written a blog, and there’s a very good reason for it: Arwen’s language is getting much, much clearer and her sentences and conversations are much, much longer. When I started this blog just over a year ago, she’d just hit 50 words and was only just starting to string two together at once, so it was easy to point out little things that she’d said that were funny. Now that she has full conversations, it’s harder to pick out the little things as it’s often the whole conversation that makes us laugh. Though you still get the odd little gems, which I try to note down on twitter and Facebook, and some that I’ve saved for here.

She’s a big fan of counting at the minute, and is interested in learning what the symbols for numbers are. She’s getting to the point where she can count up to twenty with just a couple of mistakes when she gets to the higher numbers, so I have no idea why, when she was counting a couple of weeks ago, she counted “One, two, three, four, b for Barney.” I mean, at least she’s recognising letters as well, but still. She’s also a big fan of days of the week, mainly because she has a set of pairs of knickers with days of the week on them. Though they don’t contain Saturday or Sunday knickers. Are you not supposed to put underwear on your kids on the weekend? Is this a rule I didn’t know? Anyhow, she was counting the days of the week off on her fingers recently, and they’re apparently “Wednesday, Tuesday, Friday, Picnic day.” This bizarreness of that was bettered the following day when we were driving past the library and she told me “We go to the library on a Monday.” I told her that that’s right, we do. Then I asked which other day we go, expecting an answer of Friday. And not an answer of “Erm, Liverpool day.”

Language paragraph alert! I was fascinated today to realise that Arwen’s just hit the stage where she’s starting to make virtuous errors. By that I mean that she used to use words like “feet” and “fell”, but today I’ve heard her both refer to her “foots” and say that she “falled”. Now this might sound like she’d regressing and making mistakes out of nowhere, but it’s a vital part of the language learning process. She used to get irregular plurals and past tenses right because she was copying what she’d heard the people around her say. However, now she’s properly learning the rules of how to make plurals (add an s on to the end of a word) and past tenses (add an ed on the end of a word) so she’s applying them everywhere. Linguists refer to these as virtuous errors because although she’s getting things wrong that she previously got right, she’s doing it because she’s learning language rules and applying them wherever she sees fit. It’s a brilliant process that too often people only notice because they think kids are making mistakes, but what they’re actually showing you is how bloody clever they are.

And though she’s obviously being incredibly clever with her language, she most definitely hasn’t learnt the concept of metaphors yet. She came over and kissed me the other day, and I told her that I love it when she kisses me out of the blue. To which I got the entirely sensible response “Where the blue?” Try explaining that to a two year old. Because I tried, and I couldn’t. My other failing recently has been to teach her things I shouldn’t have. Playing against Arwen and Daddy on the Wii recently, Daddy deliberately ran into me and knocked me down (again!) on the umbrella game. I quite rightly told him to sod off. Arwen then looked indignant and said “We not gonna sod off!” Which was fair enough. I also told the cat to bugger off recently when she was getting in the way, as cats so often do. Arwen’s response was to say “You bugger off.” Then “You bugger rock.” Closely followed by “You bugger beanbag.” followed by hysterical laughter. I don’t get that kid sometimes. She also hit her head on the wall when climbing into bed the other week, so I told her the wall was being mean and that we should tell it off. As I said “Naughty wall!”, Arwen responded with “Yeah, bog off!” I’d say I don’t know where she got that from, but going on the evidence, it was probably me.

And now for some other one-liners that didn’t fit in the other paragraphs. I don’t know what the cat did to upset her the other morning, but it must have been serious as she came stomping into the kitchen where I was washing up and announced “I not going to give the cat a bednight kiss!” Fair nuff. She may have been unhappy with the cat, but she’s getting on well with inanimate objects as she threw a beach ball down the stairs recently and shouted after it “I love you big ball!” There was also a melancholy tone in the air a couple of weeks ago when I was strapping her into her car seat after a trip to Asda. A young lad went past the car and Arwen suddenly and rather bizarrely turned into a narrator, saying “The boy walk sadly past the car.” It was like a sombre, and rubbish, audiobook had suddenly started playing. But to end on a high, Arwen felt a little bit sick before she went to bed tonight, but then explained to me how it had all worked out fine: “I had some water and that feeled me much, much better.” So that’s good, then.

It a bit wiggly

2 years, 8 months, 19 days old

It’s been a long time since I last wrote a blog. I’m not really sure why, but it just has. Because of that, there’s quite a lot to cover, including helpful advice, lots of poo talk, various words for things hurting and some teenage responses.

The advice has in some cases come from me, in other cases come from Arwen. For example, when she had a cold a couple of weeks ago, I advised her to put her hand over her mouth when she coughed. She looked at me angrily and told me “That don’t work!” I’m not sure what she expected it to do, but it was terrible advice, nonetheless. Better advice came from Arwen herself warning Nana “Careful on the stairs Nana. They steep. They a bit dangerous.” It’s important to be made aware of these issues in your own home. Arwen’s always keen to help, and pleased with herself for doing so, or at least she appeared to be when I was tidying up recently and she came over and said “I’ll help.” She then responded to herself with “That most kind.” She’s also keen on recognising when other people have been helpful. She pointed out that one of the taps had a red bit on it yesterday, so I told her that red taps are hot, blue ones are cold, to which she nodded and replied “Ooh, sensible!” But the best piece of advice she’s come up with recently was in regards to the hilarious game we now have of making someone stand near the front of the car when we’re in it, then beeping the horn to make them jump. When we were waiting for Nana to come out of her house a couple of weeks ago and getting ready to make her jump, Daddy tried to point out just how much he’d make Nana jump by saying “When she comes out, I’ll make her poo herself.” To which Arwen sensibly replied “No, just beep the horn.”

And speaking of poo, it’s still one of Arwen’s favourite topics. She likes to coach it along when sitting on the toilet by saying “Come on poo!” and comment on how it’s going with phrases like “That’s a big poo! And a teeny tiny one at the end.” But it’s not just poo that’s fascinating, wee is also up there too. when I said I needed a wee the other day, Arwen helpfully explained to me how it all works. “Daddy pulls his willy out and goes for a wee. I pull my knickers down and go for a wee.” Both these sentences had accompanying actions. I’ll leave them to your imagination.

Being two and a half, one of Arwen’s main hobbies is falling over. Seriously, she’s upright one second, then flat on her face the next, with nothing in between. So her knees have recently been “hurty” and “owwy”. Both quite sensible. The word that we’re not quite sure of was when we asked whether her tummy was ok as she seemed to be rubbing it. We got the baffling reply “It looks funny. Yeah. It a bit wiggly.” Nope, me neither.

There have been other topics of conversation too, for example how much she loves her parents. Giving us a big group hug last night, she announced “I love you people.” Being her mother’s daughter, she also likes to discuss food. Daddy is an excellent baker, and Arwen likes to help him out. When I got the mixer down last week, her immediate response was to shout “Fifty grams of sugar!” I was making pizza dough at the time, so I’m not sure she’d got her measurements quite right. The one thing she has got spot on though, is her attitude. She’s got a wonderful new habit of looking down at the floor with disdain when being told to do something awful like brush her teeth, and muttering “Fine!” She may only be two, but she’s got the makings of a proper teenager.

Nudey bum!

2 years, 7 months, 13 days old

This week, Arwen had her first trip to London, which she pronounces in exactly the same way as the narrator on Danger Mouse (if you haven’t seen the reboot of DM you really should – it’s amazing.) It meant that she learnt the phrase “Mind the gap!” and kept shouting “Nudey bum!” every time she saw one in a painting in the National Gallery. Quick fact for you – there are lots of nudey bums in the National Gallery.

She’s had quite a few conversations about food this week (well, she is her mother’s daughter) and looked really surprised on Wednesday while eating her afters. I’m assuming the yogurt she had must have been particularly cold in order for her to feel it going down, as she swallowed a spoonful, put her head to one side, furrowed her brow and announced “Some yogurt go in my tummy” as though that had never happened to her before. It’s not just food she eats though. Anyone who’s ever spent time around a small child could tell you exactly what she meant when on Friday she said “I eat my nose.” Kids are gross.

But they’re also funny in the way they describe things. While she’s obviously confident on her feet, there are times when the floor is slippy and she falters. Which has led to her new phrase: “It a bit fally.” The floor in the swimming baths is fally, as is the laminate floor at home when she’s only wearing socks. And her bike is a bit fally, but that just needs practise. She’s also got a great phrase that she’s been saying for months, but I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned here. When it’s raining, I obviously say we need to put our hoods up, but Arwen obviously misunderstood what I was saying at some point, and for months now, whenever it rains, she tells you that we need to “Put our hoodyups on.”

As ever, Daddy has been the best this week, but I must have been in her good books on Saturday when she grabbed me by my cheeks, put her face right up to mine and told me “You a cutie little cutie, Mummy.” I’ve certainly never been called that before.

But Daddy obviously became favourite again very quickly, especially as he made a big house out of duplo yesterday. However, she wasn’t quite as enamoured with the house as you might have expected. She picked up her Mickey Mouse duplo figure and took it over to the house, explaining that “I poo on Daddy’s house.” Then she walked Mickey across the roof saying “I awake now. I walking on this pooey house.” Delightful.

Beautiful

2 years, 7 months, 6 days old

This has been a beautiful week. And by that, I mean that everything has been “beautiful” this week. On Wednesday morning, I went into the bathroom and asked Arwen to come in to go to the loo. She for once did exactly as she was told, running towards me with open arms while shouting “I GOT BEAUTIFUL LIPS!!!” I can’t argue with that. I also agreed that the cat is beautiful and the jumper she got for Christmas is beautiful (or it was until she covered it in chocolate) but I drew the line at the toilet in the library being beautiful. That simply isn’t true.

We’ve had a few instances of Arwen using words in the wrong context this week. A couple of days ago, she sat with her fists on her legs and told me to “Put them on your legs.” Not looking directly at her at the time, I asked her what I was supposed to be putting on my legs. She told me “Your fistbumps.” Apparently (though thinking about it, happily) she hasn’t heard the word “fist” in any other context, so clearly believes they’re just called “fistbumps”. She also caused mild head scratching when Nana and I were peeling oranges last week and Arwen watched us then asked “You grating eggs?” Quite how she got that confused, I’m not sure.

As ever, we’ve been talking about “what we done to our day” every night before bed, which is always entertaining but often takes quite some time as Arwen likes to comment on everything that’s happened. It sometimes takes an extra long time because when she’s tired and trying to think quickly, she stammers a little. As we were discussing what we’d had for tea on Friday night, Arwen clearly had something important to say. So I stopped as she stammered over “I… I… I… ” and waited for her to tell me whether or not she’d liked her tea, long enough to finally hear “I… I… I… I… put my hand on my bum.” I checked whether she meant she’d done that while she was eating her tea or whether she was doing it at that point (it gets very dark in her bedroom) and found out she was just telling me what she was currently up to. She also added “I swirling it around” so I got a good mental image.

This evening while discussing our day, she told me she had been playing with “the guys” at the library, having played with two boys of a similar age to her. She knows both of their names, but only referred to them as “the guys” the whole time she was talking about them. I was a little concerned about her playing though – being two, she has no concept of personal space and kept trying to hug one of “the guys” despite his clearly not wanting to be hugged. So much so that I’m concerned he may have gone home and joined the #MeToo movement.

Oh, one last thing – you know how when you type certain words on your phone, your keyboard gives you a choice of emojis you might want to use in their place? Well when you type Arwen on some phones, you get a female elf emoji. Bet your name hasn’t got a cool emoji.

It not fair!

2 years, 6 months, 29 days old

I usually post this blog on a Sunday, but as we’ve decided to make a return to our old Sunday-night-is-film-night routine, it’s more likely to appear on a Monday now. Which is good for this week, as Arwen’s been very vocal today. Unfortunately, one of her key phrases from today is likely to haunt us for years and years to come: “It not fair”. Surely she’s ten years too young for that?!? Though she is certainly looking to the future as she told me this morning “I gonna sing songs.” I asked her when she was going to do that, assuming she meant at the library as we were about to head off to Read and Rhyme Time, but instead got the rather forward-thinking “When I go to school.”

Happily though, she’s continuing with her politeness, even when refusing to do what you want her to. Last night when putting her to bed, I told her she needed to go to sleep. She said she didn’t want to. So I told her it was bedtime, so she should go to sleep. Her response was a very polite “No thank you.” Conversely, when I tried to get her ready to go out on Friday, she sat on her chair, put her head on a pillow and announced “I just have a little snooze.” Kids. Never sleeping when you want them to.

She also likes to express herself nice and clearly. Last night, I asked her whether she wanted to read The Storm Whale (usually a favourite), The Lion Inside or Guess How Much I Love You. Arwen put her head to one side, looked thoughtful and proclaimed “I don’t like those options.” But to be extra clear of her intent, she’s now adding adverbs. The potty training has been going so well that we’re now daring to venture outside without a nappy on. However, when I tried to put knickers rather than a nappy on her on Saturday, I was met with a solemn gaze and Arwen telling me “I no want knickers … seriously.” So that was me told.

I was also told this afternoon when Arwen pointed to two t-shirts and asked me “Which one you want?” I made the mistake of picking one at random to be met with a stern “No. That one mine. Which one do you like?” As there were only two on display, I felt the choice had been taken away from me somewhat.

And to be honest, this has been quite a tiresome week, as whenever Daddy has been home, it’s all been about him. I’ve lost track of the times I’ve heard “Not you Mummy. I want Daddy” over the past week or so. With that in mind, I was happy to hear her say something not so complimentary about Daddy this week when she told me “Daddy heavy.” I asked for clarification “Daddy’s heavy?” to which I got the lovely response of “Yeah. You as well, Mummy.” I was really hoping there was going to be something positive about me there, but it was not to be. Mind you, it’s not all great being Daddy. He’s currently sorting out her bedtime routine and I just heard him tell Arwen she had to go in the bath. Normally she’s more than happy for Daddy to give her a bath, but instead I just heard her indignantly reply “It not fair!!!” Which is hilarious when I’m not at the receiving end of it.

What we do to our day?

2 years, 6 months, 22 days old

It’s been a good while since I wrote a blog, what with Christmas, New Year n all that. I’d say this is going to be a bumper edition, full of Christmas insights, but in reality, we were too busy enjoying ourselves to even think about a blog. So instead, you’ve got what I can remember. And I have to remember a lot every day because now, after we’ve turned her light out but before we say goodnight, Arwen asks “What we done to our day?” and we have to go through our day in painstaking detail. She especially likes to be clear about what she’s eaten. It’s important.

What’s also important to her is manners and doing things right. When visiting relatives recently, she heard someone call into the kitchen with a “I’ll have a cup of coffee” and responded immediately with “Say please!” So maybe we are raising her right, after all. Though I’m a little unsure of what Daddy’s teaching her as she walked out of Tesco with him a couple of weeks ago and shouted at the top of her voice “You didn’t pay!” He had, but it’s always nice to be accused of shoplifting by a toddler.

Arwen’s now a big fan of pointing things out to you – she’s interested in the world around her, and wants you to be as well. So we make sure we always pay attention when she points something out. When we visited Delamere Forest recently, she was a little way behind us, and shouted “Hey everybody, come over here!” I dutifully did, and asked her what she could see. Her response? “Nothing!” Then she ran off, laughing. Though she definitely saw something later, when we walked past a pond covered in mist. We thought it was quite eerie, but Arwen decided that she thought “It dark and ghostly.” We have no idea where that came from.

But to the important stuff: Christmas. Being two and a half, this was the first Christmas when Arwen was aware of Father Christmas, so we made a big deal of it and went to see him with her. She asked for a bike, an idea we’d been not too subtly pushing her towards for a couple of months. On Christmas morning, she came downstairs and saw a large, appallingly wrapped, parcel next to the tree. She started unwrapping it and when we asked what it was, all she could say was “My bike!” over and over in a delighted tone. It was just beautiful.

Speaking of beautiful, Arwen has properly started telling us that she loves us recently, and suddenly finds it really funny to say “I love you too too too!” We’ve no idea where that came from, but she said it to me as I was reading her bedtime story a couple of weeks ago, then giggled to herself and added “I love you three three three!” And now she can love you any number between one and ten. Though it’s always disappointing when she loves you one one one.

And finally, Daddy did something daft the other day (I don’t remember what, but it’s not a rare occurrence) and I said “Daddy’s silly, isn’t he? What’s Daddy?” I fully expected her to say “Silly” in response, but instead I got the rather brilliant “He a div.”

Do Hello

2 years, 5 months, 25 days old

This week has contained far fewer tantrums than last week. Apparently the idea that kids love routine and don’t like change isn’t just an old wive’s tale, and we’ve had a much happier Arwen to play with. And play we have. She’s still getting to grips with hide and seek though, demanding to play it at Nana’s house last week, then when I shouted “Ready or not!” she shouted back “No, don’t look for us!” I’m not sure how to make that work then. She still loves pretending to cook on her oven at Nana’s too, telling me the other day as she busied herself at it that “I doing something cool for you to look.” She’s become a big fan of pretend play now. We were sitting quite happily on Friday when she bent down, picked up something invisible off the floor, touched it to me and said “I just put some sellotape on you. Make you feel better.” I hadn’t known I didn’t feel well until then, but I certainly felt better afterwards. At the moment, she constantly wants to “Do hello”, in which you need to grab an object similar to whatever she has in her hand (teddy, toy car, pen, fork, whatever) and they have to say hello to each other. Then both objects have to go for a walk, inevitably to the park, where they will play on the swings and go fast until whatever object Arwen’s holding is loudly and violently sick. Quite an imagination.

But the playing isn’t always as fun as it sounds. She got very annoyed when I refused to play the game she wanted to play on Wednesday. I wasn’t being awkward though – I just really have no idea what “I want to do electric. For my holiday” means. And we had a bit of a stand off on Friday when we were running late on our way to the library and Arwen started banging one of her toys really noisily in the back of the car. Already fraught, (I hate being late) I asked her in what was probably quite an exasperated tone “Could you stop banging it please?” To which I got the perfectly reasonable response “I not doing any harm.” And I couldn’t think of a suitable comeback, so I just had to put up with the fact that a two year old had beaten me.

There have been a few angry moments this week. I didn’t know how to respond on Monday when she stared at me with fury in her eyes and shouted “I just did a trump!” Did she want congratulating? Commiserating? I just stayed quiet. That seemed to do the trick. Not that Arwen always knows the right thing to say, either. She wasn’t eating much of her tea on Friday, so I asked her to eat some more, and received an angry “I can’t!” in response. When I, quite reasonably, asked her why, Arwen thought for a second and told me “I don’t want to.” So at least she hasn’t reached the lying through her teeth stage yet. Though Daddy perhaps wishes she wasn’t always so brutally honest. Last week he asked her whether she liked his beard. He wasn’t quite prepared for a negative answer, nor the response to the further query of why she didn’t like it: “It gross.”

And speaking of gross, I was changing a particularly awful nappy today, when Arwen sniffed, looked horrified and said “Somebody farted.” Nope. That’d be the poo.

Rain Heads

2 years, 5 months, 17 days old

This week Daddy has been off work, so we’ve had a week of days out and tantrums as Arwen’s usual sleep patterns have been disrupted. She’s wanted to go home everywhere we’ve been, and wanted us to “put my songs on” every other second. Wherever we are. We didn’t put her songs on at Lyme Park on Friday, which was very offensive to her. We tried to explain that we couldn’t actually put the music that she listens to at home or in the car on while we wandered around a stately home, but this did nothing to alleviate her anger. Two year olds. They’re great fun. And when you do put her songs on, you get told off. I was singing along to a song from How To Train Your Dragon 2 in the car and got told “Don’t sing it Mummy! I just dance.” Quite how my singing got in the way of her dancing, I’m not sure.

But it’s not all been tantrums, she’s also been very concerned about me this week. When the three of us went to walk over some stepping stones when out for a walk on Thursday, Arwen and Daddy did it, then she turned to me and said “Be careful Mummy. Just you be very careful.” Clearly I don’t look steady on my feet. She also showed real love for me later the same day when she hugged me and said “I love you Mummy.” Followed immediately with “I want your phone.”

But despite the tantrums and the emotional blackmail she’s still been, as always, great fun to be around. When she walked off into another room a couple of days ago, I shouted to ask what she was doing after that worrying period of silence when you know a toddler could have destroyed the house, and got a clear “Just messing.” So that made me feel better. My favourite thing this week though has been when we were playing a game in her playroom and Arwen heard the rain outside. She held a box over her head to shelter herself from it and passed one to me to do the same. Daddy walked in and asked what we were doing, to which he got the response “We got rain heads.” And it’s beautiful little phrases like those that make the tantrums bearable. Just.

Let It Go

2 years, 5 months, 10 days old

This has been a bit of a “wow” week. Everything has been “wow”. Nana and I took Arwen to the local garden centre on Wednesday, where she looked at every single Christmas tree, and expressed her delight in each one with an awestruck “wow”. Arwen’s first visit to the cinema yesterday also elicited a number of “wow”s. (Doesn’t the word “wow” start to look weird after a while?) The cinema trip was to watch Let It Go on the big screen. Not Frozen; Arwen hasn’t seen the film before, though has listened to the song and watched the video of the song many, many times, so in her mind, the film is called Let It Go. As is Elsa, the character who sings it. So to clarify, we went to watch Let It Go, in which Let It Go sings Let It Go. Everybody with me? Good.

She’s also continued to use normal phrases in strange contexts. Today, at her great aunt and uncle’s house, Arwen decided to run around the living room. I asked what she was doing, and she replied “I charging myself up.” Obviously. She also made an odd noise yesterday which was apparently snoring. I didn’t know that at the time, so when I asked her, I got the answer “I going to asleep.” If only she did that at 8 o’clock every night. As ever, she’s trying out new and exciting ways to not have to go to sleep. This week’s new one was to urgently call me back as I was leaving her bedroom after putting her to bed and tell me “You need a hug and a kiss.” It wasn’t that she needed it, it was that I did. She’s so thoughtful.

Arwen had her two-and-a-half year check with the health visitor on Tuesday, which happened at home. She was thankfully all smiles and showed off all her toys, even for once getting the colours right when she was asked what colour her cars were. Then she ran off into the conservatory and said she wanted me to play with her Lego with her. I said we’d do it soon, and the health visitor assured her that she’d be leaving soon so we could play. Arwen then shouted “I doing a poo Mummy!” (She was wearing a nappy, just to be clear.) I told her to tell me when she’d finished and that I’d then clean her up. A worried voice shouted back “Then we do Lego!” Life’s all about priorities when you’re nearly two-and-a-half.

She’s also put both Mummy and Daddy in their places this week. She’s recently decided to try out sucking her thumb, and on Monday while in the car with Daddy, he told her not to put her thumb in her mouth. He told her that’s what babies do (a way to make a big grown up two-and-a-half year old not want to do something.) It worked and she stopped. It worked a little too well though, as Daddy found out shortly afterwards when he started to bite his nails. “No Daddy. Babies do that!” Still, it could be worse for Daddy. This morning, he got Arwen up and she came into our bedroom to see me as I was still  in bed. She took one look at me, walked over to my cupboard and opened it. I was given a very clear indication that my just woken up look does not meet her exacting standards as the first thing she said to me this morning was “I get your hairbrush Mummy!”

Mummy Smell That

2 years, 5 months, 3 days old

You may already be aware of this, but Arwen is a child who knows her own mind. And is vocal about it. On Wednesday, Nana took Arwen to Tumble Tots as usual, and as usual, Arwen went into the adjoining library afterwards to have a look at the books. When Nana told her it was time to leave, Arwen didn’t want to go. So when Nana took her hand to lead her out, Arwen’s response was a very forceful “Don’t you touch me!” As someone who grew up in a house with Nana, I can tell you now without having to ask that Arwen did not win that argument.

Earlier this afternoon, she decided she wanted to watch the video for Let It Go on YouTube. You know, the one that’s had 1.2 billion views (that’s not an exaggeration, by the way, that’s the actual number, and at least a third of them have been from our IP address.) Anyway, she said she wanted to watch it, then helpfully handed Daddy the mouse and said “Here the mote control for you.” So he had no excuse. She’s also wanted to play games a lot recently, especially since we bought Shopping List to take on holiday with us, a memory game where you have to turn over tiles and match the items on them to what’s on your shopping list. It’s a nice game to play together, but made less so when you catch your two and half year old daughter hiding tiles that she knows you need under the settee or putting them back in the box saying “I put your one away, Mummy.” She’s also a big fan of “distract Mummy” when she or anybody else is turning over a piece I might want on my next go. Not distract Daddy or distract Nana, just distract Mummy. Which is fun.

I get singled out for a lot, it seems. I thought it was because I was so individual, but it turns out this afternoon that that’s not the case. We were in the car and Arwen said “That you Mummy.” I looked around to see which pretty, slim 21 year old she must be pointing at, and there was nobody around. It took me a while to realise she was talking about the voice on the radio. Apparently I sound so like Sally Traffic from Radio 2, that Arwen thinks it’s me talking. If I really was Sally Traffic, I bet I’d have known not to attempt Winwick Road at noon on a Sunday.

But it’s not all been about being the victim of cheating or being mistaken for traffic announcers this week. I’ve also had Arwen sharing things with me. Including smells. She’s a fan of asking what smells are, and on Friday we had this delightful conversation:

A: What that smell like?
Me: What does what smell like?
A: Mummy smell that.
Me: *sniffing* Arwen have you done a poo?
A: No, I did a trump.

Motherhood. It’s just magical.