Smarty Pants

One day in the car (we seem to have a lot of interesting discussions in the car) the Boogie asked me, "Honey, where is my smarty phone?"
I knew what she meant but played dumb. "Your what?"
"My smarty phone," she repeated. "I don't know where it is!"
"I don't know where it is, either," I said. "Where did you hear about a smarty phone?"
"Well, it was just on a commercial. That boy had a smarty phone, and I have one too ... but I don't know where it is."

Too much television!

Last week I went to a used-clothing store and found some long-sleeved knit dresses for her. One is pink with cupcakes all over it. She wore it today and when I gave her a snack she smoothed down her skirt and said, "I won't spill it on my lovely, lovely cupcake dress."

For Christmas she got a hooded bath towel. The hood is supposed to look like a crown and it says "princess" on it. One day I wrapped her in it after a shower and called her "your highness."
"I'm a king!" she said.
"No, you're a girl so you're a queen or a princess," I told her.
"Oh, where's my seat?" she asked.
"You mean your throne?" I sat her on the toilet. "Here it is. It's a toilet throne!" She thought that was hilarious and now every time she gets out of the tub she must sit on her toilet throne, giggling hysterically.

The Phebis is starting to pull herself up on everything, like my legs. She follows me around crying and whenever I stop she attaches to my leg and pulls herself up. I pick her up and hold her a lot, but then I often need two hands to do something and have to put her down again. When she cries she won't stop. She lays on the floor and rolls around and kicks her legs and cries and cries and cries and cries ... I'll sometimes ignore her if I know she is okay and just wanting attention. I figure she'll stop eventually but she doesn't! At least, she doesn't until she gets what she wants, which is me holding her. Then she climbs up me and stands on my hip and squirms and wriggles around until I can't stand to hold her anymore and put her down and the whole thing starts all over again. Maybe I need to try wearing her in the sling for an extended amount of time every day. She's just so wiggly. I wish she would be cuddly sometimes but she never is, EVER. She is constantly climbing and squirming and grabbing and poking and pulling hair.

That reminds me that she has discovered that we have eyelashes and she loves to probe our eyelids with her chubby finger, which makes me laugh. She is endearing despite her wiggly neediness.