Scene: I'm in our bed in the early morning, feeding Junior. H is upstairs getting Pob up. I hear loud screams. Then Pob appears in the door of our room:
Pob: I was crying!
Thalia: Yes I heard you. Do you know why you were crying?
Pob: I lost my dummies. My dummies were on the floor and that's the reason I was making lots of noise.
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Scene: H is away so I'm on my own with the two children in the morning. Pob wakes before I've had a chance to go downstairs and get her milk. So I go up to get her, leaving a protesting Junior on our bed, and bring her down to our room to collect Junior, thinking we'd all go downstairs together and I can breastfeed him while she has her milk and breakfast. Then I realise it's only 620 and I cant face making breakfast yet. Pob asks for her milk so I ask her if she'll look after Junior for me while I go and get it for her. I go downstairs and return with the milk. And find her sitting in the middle of the bed, holding Junior's hand.
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Scene: In the car on the way back from Gymboree. I get the usual refrain of "Where's my home gone?" from the back seat. I give the usual response, including "and then we do a twiddle under the bridge." This satisfies her for a bit. After a few minutes I hear a new question from the back seat:
Pob: Where's the [unintelligible] gone?
Thalia: What did you say darling?
Pob: Where's the [unintelligible] gone?
Thalia: I don't know sweetie, can you try to ask mummy again?
Pob: Where's the [unintelligible] gone?
Thalia: I'm really sorry sweetie, I don't know what you're asking. Could you have one more go?
Pob: Where's the TWIDDLE gone Mummy?
Thalia: (laughing) Oh sweetheart there isn't a twiddle, it's just a word to mean we are going to turn left and right a lot when we go under the bridge.
Pob: Oh.
Pob: Where's the bridge gone, Mummy?
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Scene: Boxing day. Pob is opening presents. One of her presents is a toy computer. A nasty tacky thing which she is too young for, but she is so mad keen on our computers that I couldn't resist.
Pob: A muter a muter!
H: Yes darling, your muter. Shall I show you how to use it?
Pob: No Daddy, it's MY muter. Don't touch Daddy, ok? It's mine, don't touch.
A 'Muter! Lovely!
I made the grave mistake of showing Harry the Timmy Time website. Now I can't sit down in here without him clambering gleefully onto my lap and gesturing meaningfully at the screen. If I don't flip over to Timmy straightaway he grabs the mouse and starts banging it on the desk in protest.
I must see about getting him one of his own!
Posted by: Hairy Farmer Family | Monday, 25 January 2010 at 18:51
Yeah, Aitch will pick up something or point to my computer and ask, "Mommy's". When she tries to play on it, I'll take it away or move it and then it goes from being Mommy's to "me! me! memememe!"
Posted by: Yo-yo Mama | Tuesday, 26 January 2010 at 04:00
Too cute! We have a muter lover here too. Banana would kill for one of her own -- lucky Pob!
Posted by: Kath | Tuesday, 26 January 2010 at 12:54
Makes me wonder if Pob has heard from her parents, as my kids have heard from us, that exact phrase about the 'puter. Then again, once my elder spilled milk on one and it died, so we have good reason to be afraid.
Posted by: Girl Detective | Tuesday, 26 January 2010 at 23:46
I use to not blog because I didn't have time... now I don't blog because 10 minutes on the computer is all I can grab before Caden demands to look at our entire collection of pictures. His personal favorite... "baby Caden in his jolly jumper Momma.... that's silly... what's THAT Caden doing?
Posted by: Krista | Wednesday, 27 January 2010 at 08:03
Strangely, that's a Prawn question too! "Where's my home gone?" :)
Posted by: rockmama | Wednesday, 27 January 2010 at 13:48
She seems to be coming along so fast! Really complex sentences and concepts now.
Bea
Posted by: Bea | Friday, 29 January 2010 at 23:16
Too cute!
Posted by: Clover | Saturday, 30 January 2010 at 18:47