It seems hardly a day passes without Lillian proudly showing that she can do another small thing on her own.
– brush her teeth at the bathroom sink without needing to stand on a step
– pour herself a glass of milk
– fetch herself a teaspoon of honey (well, she didn’t proudly show that, she was “caught”)
This weekend in the car we played “I spy…” for the first time. Her grasp of the conventions was a bit rough, but she enjoyed it anyway. Later she invented another game: spell out a “word” and ask what it “says”.
E.g., “E..Y..Y…H…T…B…TREE – what does that say?”
Lillian’s child care requested that children bring in a family photo.
Lillian is taking in this one – taken a few weeks ago when we were out walking at Turton’s creek:
“Lillian, do you know what a fib is?”
She looks at me, uncomprehending. “No…”
“A fib is when you deliberately say something that isn’t true.”
Oh-oh. Even as I’m saying this, I’m realising that if she doesn’t understand fibbing, she probably doesn’t understand “deliberately saying that something isn’t true.” Conceptually, they are just the mirror images of each other. I’m not sure she’s got the concept of “true” or “truth telling”, so defining one in terms of the other isn’t likely to help much.
“Ok, here’s an example. Lillian is wearing a blue top.” She’s not, of course. She’s wearing her usual pink. So now she’s confused. It shows on her face. Why would Daddy say something that’s so clearly wrong?
“That’s a fib!” I say.
She’s still not sure.
“Ok, here’s another one. Lillian is three years old.”
“Noooo!!!!” Her face lights up with a smile – she’s got the idea.
“Can I do one?” she says.
“Daddy’s got a bottom on his head!”
Lillian’s great-uncle Richard visited from Taiwan. He brought for Lillian a box of special biscuits. The cover of the box had many animals on it. The biscuits inside were individually packed in opaque foil wrappers. In fact, all the biscuits were identical – a kind of stylised dragon fish.
Lillian opens her first biscuit wrapper. “Look! A mermaid!”
The next day, upon opening her second: “Another mermaid!”
And on the third day, opening another one: “This one is a mermaid too! Maybe they all mermaids!”
[Aside: This is “technically” known as inductive reasoning, generalising from a sample to the entire population from which that sample was drawn. Of course she has been doing this kind of thing for a while, but this was a crystal clear case.]
Lately Lillian has been enjoying acting like a kitten.
She was eating her cereal this morning, making the usual “meow”-type noises.
Then she says: “This is a funny kitten because it is holding a spoon.”
I say “Yes, holding a spoon with its pretend paw and pretend claws.”
“Yes, and its got a dress on and is a pretty one.”
Daddy went away to Sydney for work for the second time this week. On getting back:
“Lillian, do you like butterflies?”
“Uh huh…” she says. Of course she does.
“Do you like flowers?”
“Yeees…” Now she’s curious.
Do you like sparkly things?
“Yes.” Daddy’s up definitely up to something.
“Do you like watches?”
What about a watch with pink flowers and butterflies and sparkly things on it??”