When Celia was a baby, I used to call her my little bird. Mostly due to the hilarious open mouth ‘feed me’ pose she would strike when it was nursing time. It was the cutest thing and cracked me up.
I’ve never given up calling her my little Celia Bird, because it just fits her so well. Light and delicate, beautiful, flitting from one thing to another, chirping out bits and pieces of interesting things.
Lately, I call her that more often. She has a friend whose dad calls her by a nickname, and Celia noticed. She SO wanted a special nickname. I pointed out that she already HAD one, and have made an effort to use it more.
She has many nicknames. Her friends call her CeCe at school. Some call her just Cec. That one always cracks me up because it comes out like ‘ceese’ and the double entredre of using it like ‘cease’ when I need her to stop something is hilarious to me.
But more and more she is my little Celia Bird, and she has some hilarious things to say.
In regards to a strange cat on the porch one morning:
“Let me get my robe on! I know how to speak cat language. I’ll go out and ask her to please leave.”
(she did indeed go out and chase the stray cat off, meowing for all she was worth)
“I’m not a fan of those bears that eat people.”
“Dad! You remember that splinter I used to have? Mom says she thinks it’s not a splinter but a WARP!”
“Yeah! I’ve got a warp on my foot!”
Do you mean wart?
“Yeah. A warp!”
She has also spent a lot of time decorating the house. Yesterday she told me that she was making it ‘all halloweeny’ and that she was ‘spookifying the place’. She then gave me badges (kitty stickers) that I apparently earned. One badge was a ‘making it through your daughter decorating for halloween’ and the other was ‘making it through your daughter putting together a Tinkerbell costume’.
I’m just glad she’s setting the bar low and all I have to do is make it through!