Anastasia is 3 years old going on 17.
She is quite confident in all decisions she makes for herself; howeverh she is incredibly shy and can’t tell you what she ate for breakfast unless you are a dude she has become smitten with in a matter of minutes of meeting.
She has really blossomed in her role as the big kid having to deal only with Boyd while the actual big kids are at school. She is a regular conversationalist and knows she is all that and a bag of chips. No, I take that back… Two bags of chips.
Her love language is music. I just made that up. But, she adores music and songs and singing. It is too adorable for words and on more than one occasion we have been stopped mid-Winco trip in an empty store to let us know how her beautiful voice is such a delight carrying through the aisles for the shoppers to hear.
She has been taking ballet for about 3 weeks now and absolutely LOVES it. We signed her up for a short program to see if she would actually cooperate and take to the idea, and let me tell ya, she’s uh takin’! It is so fun to watch her finger little ballerina thing and beam her cheesy little grin when she gets a compliment after doing a good job with one move or another.
All this brings me to the fact that Anastasia is still infact 3. Yes, three years old. A threenager in many ways, but three just the same.
And she is number 6 in a long line of seven siblings. She is definitely low man on the totem pole, much to her pretty dismay I might add. So after ruling the roost most of each day, she is railroaded and pushed not once, not twice, but five spaces back to her respective role at lowly sixth place.
No say. No clout. No leverage. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Zip.
Until recently. And only with one kid: Phillip. Mr number 4 in the line. Two hops up from her is Phillip and she has figured out how to own him and rule all the ruleable things when it comes to any sort of involvement with Phillip.
Even when the card doesn’t play, she still pulls it out with such authority, you can’t help but wonder if maybe there is some truth to it.
You see, Phillip has a wheat allergy that is treated as a gluten intolerance which translates to gluten free in the world of groceries and dessert and school party forms. Yes rice. Yes corn. Yes potatoes. No wheat. But I digress…
Today, Phillip wanted to have a sip of a juice that I gave to Anastasia after a low. She was determined not to share but kept getting plowed by the older kids and losing out on all her precious juice. Finally, Phillip tried to swoop in and she shouted, “No, Phillip! You can’t have my drink! It is *NOT* gluten free!!” and ran away.
A few days ago, he wanted to see a picture she had colored and was showing off to Karolina, but she pulled it close to her and twisted her back and replied, rather snooty-like, “No. This isn’t gluten free so you can’t see it.”
He recently wanted to juloin everyone on the trampoline to play “gah gah ball” (is that a real thing, or are my kids special?) Phillip couldn’t get on because there was gluten on the leaves that fell on the trampoline that they were using for added enjoyment in their game.
Naturally, none of this works because 99% of the time she is wrong and there actually is no wheat or gluten in the substance, liquid, or activity he wants to partake in. However, it is a very strong argument, and could be very persuasive in the appropriate situation, halting further action. She has seen the power of the statement “that has gluten, don’t eat it Phillip” has and she is so determined to be a big somebody’ boss that this is her call to arms!
And, I laugh every. single. time. she says it.