1. Phoebe removes her shoes immediately upon entering the house. Even if she's fallen asleep in the car, and I'm carrying her, still sleeping, into the house, her shoes hit the floor within a few steps of crossing the threshold.
2. Phoebe is never still. If she's sitting in "her" chair watching TV, she has to be scraping something around on the floor with her toe, or banging the doors of the TV cabinet, or fiddling with the blinds. If she's on my lap, she squirms and twitches, or she digs her toes into my legs to maneuver into a different position. If she's on my lap, watching TV, and eating popcorn, she rustles around in the popcorn bowl, lets it spill between her fingers, crumples up each piece, tries to cram kernels in my mouth. In her car seat, she zings the seat belt beside her back and forth, back and forth. In bed, she twists and flops and flips her pillow over and then over again and kicks off her blankets and pulls them back up. It is such a relief when she finally falls asleep. About an hour before she wakes up for good, though, she starts the flopping and flailing and rustling and turning all over again. And then she gets up for another non-stop, skip-hoppy day.