time to update the list of the latest favorite sayings of the inphenom:
LUB: on seeing two greyish dobermans in kelvin grove park, glasgow, "mu, two grade (grey) puppies! i LUB DEM." the list of things worthy of being lubbed has since grown, and she will march down the street reciting that list for all the world like a rosary. "i lub flowers, i lub puppies, i lub mummy, i lub birds, i lub fie (sic) engines, i lub thomas" and so on thru the list of HER people.
MY people: when she meets someone new, they become, rather rapidly, MY bart, MY peter, MY roofie (ruth, the friend we are staying with), and when they leave, she will often bleat rather plaintively "MY (whoever), i want MY (whoever). they can also be 'mines' or 'mine' as those words are used interchangeably.
WHERE'S MINES?/WHAT HAPPENED MINES: used when any object or person she considers important is not immediately visible. case in point: we put her to bed fully clothed (including shoes - which are apparently must haves for any toddler intending on sleeping) a few nights back, and once she was asleep, took her jeans and shoes off, leaving her in her swim shorts that are also must-need attire every day ( i kind you not) and tee shirt. when she woke up in the morning, she tottered out of bed, walked past a full length mirror in our room, took a double take - threw her hands wide and shouted "WHAT HAPPENED MINES jeans . . . . they fall ober (they fell off)!!!! . . ." the famed red twousers are almost always the subject of such intense inquiry. we left them at home while we trotted over to scotland, and every morning, afternoon and evening the call went up and the explanations had to be made of just WHERE they were and WHY she was unable to wear them. grannY - how is that search for a replacement going?
she also has a huge range of imaginative play going: keeping 'dory' and 'nemo' in her pocket (two fishy characters from finding nemo), and if asked, will produce them on the palm of her hand and let you have a pat or a kiss. she will also 'swim' them to you, holding her palm perpendicular(ish) to the floor and making it 'swim.' she will also make you a cuppy tea and a piece of chocolate cake if asked, producing invisible slivers of said cake and placing it in one grubby paw before proffering it to you and then giggling as you 'eat' it. peter (our host) had her guffawing last night as he accepted his pieces of cake (and there were PLENTY), and tossed them in the air, swiftly moving his head to catch them with a snap of his jaw. that game went on for a very long time. cuppy teas are managed in a similar fashion, altho she prefers to pour REAL liquid into any cup available, but hasn't yet mastered the art of stopping at 'when' - tending to just keep on pouring until the vessel in her hands is empty. these games are brilliant distractions when she is out of sorts, engaging her immediate attention and taking her mind of any angsty thoughts, altho one has to ensure one has enough time to play until the bitter end, because heaven help anyone who starts a game and does not see it through until its natural conclusion!!!
she is also rather fond of collaring people in the street or shop and putting them thru a litany of body parts (which she names as she touches each on on herself), i.e. head, shoulder, elbow, hand, arm etc, and then itemising her clothing, interspersed with a kind of meaningful gesticulation and gobbledegook which we can only imagine is her version of french and flemish! people love it, in general, and will murmur things like 'petite mignonette', 'petite chou' (literally 'little cabbage'!), or ask me - STILL - 'c'est un garcon madame?' - is it a boy . . . :( . . . even if she is in pink and purple. its that blimmen mullet - gets them every time.
she recites a list of the people in her life, the grannies and poppa and grandad and chelsea and katie (in all different orders), thomas etc, and all the aussie friends and playmates, and we always talk about what she has done with each person, or what that person has done with her - and she always acknowledges who has made or given any clothing she may be wearing . . . standing solemnly in front of someone with grannIE's purple cardigan telling them the buttons are 'la'ybux, grannIE's laybux.' both andrew and i are amazed at her capacity to remember so clearly and accurately - even when we arrived at the apartment in brussels, where we had stayed last year for 3 weeks, she went unerringly up the passage and in the door of the room in which we had stayed, announcing that it was 'mines woom' - altho she was only 8 months old when we were here last. seems to me that we consistently underrate kids' abilities, to our own detriment . . . well, i do at least. but, i AM learning . . . with amelia's willing and forceful assistance :)