Heart in mouth, or why we need an open plan house

I have always suspected that A was physically strong* and an incident earlier this evening confirmed that I may just have a future Olympic weight lifter on my hands.

I was in the kitchen preparing dinner while keeping an eye on the girls who were playing in the living room via the dodgy early 80's buffet window thingo (yes that is the technical term I'm sure).

Sounds of laughter...check.
Chop the vegies.
A suddenly announces "I did it mummy!".
I look up to see my not quite three year old standing there and holding her seven month old sister in her arms.

Note that E is 9kg of booby baby, approximately half of her older sister's body weight. So this was a significant achievement. Ruined of course by my shriek of "Jesus gay!"** before I flew around the corner only to witness E dropped like a sack of potatoes before I could reach her.

Thankfully for miss E there was no obvious damage other than a bit of a shock. Don't you just love the tonka toughness of second kids?

A was quite distressed as she truly does love her sister and was only going for a cuddle. I tried to explain to her that only grown ups should pick up her sister, to which she replied

"But I'm getting bigger now Mum...I won't do it again, not send me to time out" (!!)

I think I need to lie down. Which isn't going to happen anytime soon as...you guessed it...miss E won't settle to sleep.

What a way to celebrate seven months for miss E.

* mr hissychick having been a 'roid raging schoolboy competitive weight lifter and all.

** my sincere apologies to those readers that take this rather unfortunate expression I've adopted as a blasphemy- but it truly is what flew out of my mouth at the time. And I wonder why A can swear like a wharfie.