Wednesday, January 03, 2024

Phoebe tales

I'm sure I'm jinxing myself, but I just have to announce that Phoebe slept in her bed all night last night. She didn't come into our room until 8:00 in the morning. She climbed into bed to snuggle and then requested to go downstairs for breakfast (without requesting her traditional morning nursing session for the first time in her life). So we went downstairs...and because we still have Christmas treats out, she asked for a cookie for breakfast. 

She ended up with an apple, a cup of milk, and a cookie. 

Sadly—and terrifyingly—after dipping the cookie into her milk it turned into...poop!!

"Oh, no! Poop!" Phoebe gagged, dropping the cookie on her plate. 

"That's not poop!" I told her. "It's just your cookie!"

"Poop!" she declared again, dry heaving a handful of times in rapid succession. 

"It's not poop! Mommy wouldn't give you poop to eat! It's a cookie, silly goose! A cookie—breakfast of champions..."

"Poop! Help me! Poop!"

I had to rush to take away her soggy cookie bits before she threw up all over the table. She does not like getting poop on herself. And she does not like anything that reminds her of poop. 

We recently had another "magical" food-to-poop incident when she declared that she needed to go potty in the middle of eating a slice of banana bread. I carried her to her little potty and helped her sit down, but a chunk of banana bread that had been hiding in a fold of her shirt fell out somehow and landed on the floor right in front of her.

"Poop!" she screamed.

"That's not poop. It's banana bread," I said, picking it up with the baby wipe that I had been using to wipe her hands off. "I'll take care of it."

"Poop," she gagged. 

She dry heaved. She moaned. She dry heaved some more. 

"I'll just...go throw this baby wipe away," I suggested. 

"Yeah. Throw away poop!" she said with relief.

"It's not poop. It's just banana bread! It hasn't even been chewed!"

Needless to say, she is pretty much 100% on getting her poopies where they should be (in the potty) because having messy pants is pretty much impossible for her to handle. 


Phoebe is prone to saying "I love you, too!" before anyone has said, "I love you" first. She just comes up to someone, gives them a hug, and croons, "I love you, too!"

Rather than a simple "thank you," she normally says, "thank you, welcome," as if that exchange is a single phrase.

She likes taking attendance of who is home and whether the people at home are happy. If ever I'm [upset, sad, mad, frustrated, tired] about anything, Phoebe is guaranteed to check on me (and offer a hug and a kiss) and say, "Happy now?"

Lately she has been coming up to me and saying "Guess what!" and then wandering away before I have a chance to guess and without ever offering me any news (although today she did allow me to guess what and then told me that she wanted cheese). 

Creating a list of words she knows is virtually impossible at this point in her language development. She seems to know every word and is piecing together sentences well. The other day she said to Andrew, "Daddy, please help me to get some water and some ice in this cup." 

She loves water and ice and is completely capable of dragging a stool over to the fridge and operating the ice and water dispenser (although she also likes to command others to get water and ice for her: "And ice!" she'll say. "Also ice!"). She knows which button will give her ice and which will give her water and even gets a responsible amount of But it took several...irresponsible...episodes to get to that point. 


Here's a couple of pictures of Phoebe and Zoë in their matching pigtails (Phoebe's first full-head pigtails) on Sunday:

Her hair is still pulling into little ringlets (which I love) and she's still favouring her left hand.

To sum up, we all love Phoebe to bits!

1 comment: