Missed!

2 years, 2 months, 5 days old

This week, Arwen has learnt to be assertive with other children. On Tuesday, we went to Speke Hall, and Arwen was about to go down the slide in the play area, when an older boy attempted to go in front of her. In situations like that, she normally holds back and waits, but this time, she was having none of it. I was about to step in and ask him to let her go first, when I heard my teacher voice coming from my two year old’s mouth, shouting “Wait, boy!” And he did. She carried on in the same vein at the swimming baths on Friday. She’s often made a grab for floats, balls and swimming noodles while in the pool and we’ve told her not to, as they’re someone else’s. So when she saw a kid heading for her ball, she made sure she got her message across by shouting “Someone else’s ball!” as loud as she could.

She’s not just been bossy though, she’s also learnt the encouraging bit of the teacher voice too. I ironed a shirt this morning while Arwen had her breakfast, and finished to a cry of “Yay, Mummy did it! Mummy finished!” which is how all ironing should end. Another new voice she’s learnt is a voice of wonder. We sat her on the side in the kitchen on Friday and popped some corn in a pan. When the first kernels popped, she nearly jumped out of her skin. But then she was fascinated. We asked her what was there, and a little voice, full of awe, whispered “popcorn!” She’s never been so amazed by anything before.

She does need to work on her naming of things though. A pigeon flew close past the car on Saturday and I asked Arwen what it was. She told me it was a bird, then said that it was a pigeon. She then asked me “What pigeon called?” so I told her I didn’t know and asked her what we should name it. Her response was “Pigeon Poo”. And I clarified – that isn’t a pigeon called Poo, it’s a pigeon called Pigeon Poo.

She also managed to offend Daddy this week. On Thursday, our friend Lindsey was visiting, and as I put Arwen to bed, she was contemplating hair. She stroked my hair and said (not at all in an attempt to make me stay in her bedroom with her, you understand) “Like your hair.” So I thanked her. Then she continued. “Mummy hair. Arwen hair. Lindsey hair.” There was a short pause. “Where Daddy hair?” A question Daddy started to ask himself a number of years ago.

Mind you, it’s not just Daddy she’s got it in for. On Thursday morning, as I put her on the toilet, she did a big wee, looked over at me and said “Missed!” And that’s when I realised that not a single time when she’s weed on me has it been an accident. She’s been aiming for me all along.

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