#1 Goes #2

Ryan has been extremely successful making his bowels an international media event; we're thinking of just putting his bed in the bathroom since he seems to want to pop over the pot every 3.8 seconds. 'cause that is one attention-grabbing event, boy. It's a little unnerving how much he wants to show everyone in the neighborhood his underpants. But tell mom you gotta go and WHOOSH everything stops, papers fly up, and Erin spins in the cartoon cloud left behind while we anxiously await the plop plop fizz fizz.
This too shall pass.

Meanwhile, Erin has found baby Ryan's old "mo" for "more", particularly when you zrbert her belly, and I could swear she said "Nemo" this evening, parroting her brother's description of his underwear du jour. Her "hi" sounds a little southern and drawn out ("haaa") and her "thank you" is a her-specific piece of gibberish that doesn't sound like anything else she says, so we're going with it. She's also good at labeling face parts, though you want to be outside arm's length when you ask her where your eye is, lest she also poke your retina into the back of your head. And darn if she wasn't stacking construction blocks four-high the other day just to impress her grandparents.

Have I mentioned lately that I like my kids? Even more than baloney and cheese sandwiches?