Okay. Enough with the bump on my forehead. It's starting to gross me out. And, the topic of my bump (and how it's been received) seems the perfect segue for the topic of this current post.
Ella. Oh, Ella.
What you have to love about four year olds is the total and somewhat brutal honesty in the statements they make. Take the last few days, for example. Following what I'd written about in my last post, Ella still wouldn't have much to do with me yesterday morning. She did not want to sit with me at breakfast yesterday in my horribly disfigured state. She said, I wish zat sing on your head wasn't zere. Me too, I thought. By lunch, she'd agreed to sit with me, but she still said, I like you better when you're normal. Me too, I thought again.
This morning she was at it again. At this point, I had to say something to her about how her carrying on was beginning to hurt my feelings. And I addressed it because it was just that; carrying on. She had to get a little lesson in what it is to be mean. When I asked her to stop, she said, but Mummy I'm just confused. Not true, she's been told many times that Mummy is still Mummy even when she's got a bump on her head. You see, our little Ella is a storyteller. This is my kind way of saying that she tells lies. Part of it is her wanting desperately to be like her brother; when he tells a story about something that happened at school, remarkably, something very similar has also happened to her!
But, more than that, she also jumps in at any chance to point out what she has done right (especially when either Joey or I have just corrected Buddy). For example, Buddy, can you please make sure you're eating over your plate? Ella chimes in, Mummy, I'm eating over my plate! See? There is this cheeky streak in her that she can't control. And she so desperately wants to be a good little girl. She is. Most of the time.
And she's sweet. Just today, when she came home for lunch, Joey played his usual tricky Daddy game with her. (It's not a huge mystery where she gets this cheeky streak, people). You know, the game where he teases her by saying something silly. Like this, who are you? To which Ella replies, it's me, your honey! Don't you know this face? You love me!
But, here are some other zingers from Ella:
Once, in a few weeks ago...(didn't I tell you she was a storyteller?)
No shuggling your food. (We were discussing manners - a shugel is what you take to the beach to dig in the sand).
I don't have any zingers from Buddy. He has a few, but mostly these days it's not so much what he says as much as it is how he says it. Att-it-tude. Like the other night at dinner, when I asked him to go ahead and try something because I knew he liked it. The response? You don't tell me what I like and don't like! With the glaring eyes and head tilted just so to be mostly chin pointing at me. You wanna bet??? I thought.
And of course, there's little Cally. Yes, she is saying heaps. She signs -- Daddy, Mummy, more, drink, all done. She says Mama, Dadda, wow, ooh ooh, wa-daa (what's that, I think). Just this week, I've discovered that nana means just about all food (not just bananas). I'm pretty sure she says Grandad -- eh DA! She's very opinionated. If you ask her a question, her answer is always to shake her head no. She giggles with the kids, even though she doesn't understand their jokes. She does understand that something is funny. She points. A lot. And, if that isn't enough, she gets very noisy in a grunty kind of way to let us know she wants something. Oh, yes. There is no doubt that Cally is communicating too.
You can imagine with three very articulate little beings in our house, there is hardly any quiet.
You'd be right.
But we find a few moments.