As I mentioned last week, Sid's birthday was on Saturday, she turned eight. So to celebrate my youngest's special day, this blog is about Sid. Where do I start ?
According to my husband, Sid is my mini-me, and I have to agree with him on this one. Not only physically - photos of me at her age are identical, except that they're in black & white - and my clothes were awful. If you ask Rob, her penchant for slamming doors and hurling objects indiscriminately across the room, are traits she gets from me, but on that I beg to differ.
To give Sid her due, you never know what she is going to say. My favourite remains the time she called her brother stupid, which was an insult I wouldn't tolerate, and insisted that she apologise immediately to her brother. However, the forthcoming apology "Grady, I'm sorry you're stupid" was not quite what I had in mind.
Then there was the time a little while ago, when she attacked her brother with a full on assault, and if I remember correctly a weapon, reducing him to tears, and she copped it big time for her vicious attack. When Rob got home and questioned her about her version of the events, (he'd already heard my version, at top volume down the telephone wires) Sid replied "I pounded the crap out of Grady and mummy shook me like a snow-globe". To be fair, Sid's hurt was fleeting, but Grady still has a scar.
She is not always fighting with her brother, sometimes they actually get along. This afternoon they sat at the dining room table for an hour painting rocks. I don't know why, and I don't care. For all I know they were plotting my downfall, but they were happy and therefore so was I.
Sid certainly has her moments, and can be quite endearing, like the time I asked her about the picture she was drawing and she told me it was a picture of Rob & I - as she succinctly put it - "So I can remember you when you're dead". Quite touching really.
She certainly goes through life at the off-beat of her own drum and as such is totally unpredictable. Surprisingly she sat patiently for two hours on the weekend, while Lindsay curled her hair, only to go outside and whoop it up on the trampoline with her cousins and chase her brother through the bushes - still clad in her party dress no less. At one point Rob asked her to pick up an empty pop can that she had gaily discarded on the lawn, only to have her turn round and tell him in no uncertain terms, "You must be kidding. I'm the birthday girl".
So this goes out to the birthday girl, may she never change.
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