Maci is 6 weeks old and Ellis is now wearing brassiers

This little girl has been full of smiles for us lately.  She's giving them out left and right---to people other than just me.  :)

 In Daly news, he's been set free...in a way.  I decided last weekend I was tired of him scratching the screen door while we were in the backyard playing, so I let him out.  He's nine (I think?) and he's been captive long enough.  He came home just fine after exploring for awhile.  And when he comes home he loves the attention I give him (he's normally covered in dirt so I "pet" him with a damp paper towel).  That tells you how starved for attention he is these days---purring while being rubbed down with a WET paper towel.

Explaining to me that when she's grown up this bra won't fall off of her.  I told her that putting the straps over your shoulders will also help.

Realizing it goes under your clothes.

While driving both girls home from a birthday party on Saturday (by myself) we ran into bumper to bumper traffic.  It was at that point that I realized I'd forgotten to have Ellis go to the bathroom before we started our long trek home (half hour minimum in good traffic).  A few minutes later she said she had to go to the bathroom.  I pray she'll make it home.  Maci wakes up and panics (her typical reaction to finding herself strapped into the car seat) and proceeds to start screaming for her life.  Then Ellis yells out.  I semi-frantically (while trying to SOUND calm) ask her if she had an accident.  She responds:  "NO!...YES!  In my mouth!" Whaaa?...OH. NO.  I catch a whiff of vomit and look in the rear view mirror to see her covered in it.  So helpless.  So smelly.  By the grace of God they both fall asleep within about 10 minutes.  One covered in her own vomit.  The other covered in her own sweat (the result of screaming for your life for 10 minutes). 

...........

Ellis has been pretending to be a Mama lately.  This makes me the "little one" that she puts to bed, reads to, gives a drink of water to and gives a goodnight kiss to.  Over and over.  And over.  A few days ago she then added waking up and serving me breakfast at the kitchen table to the mix.  I'd been pretending to go to bed in her bed for so long by that point that I was practically asleep (I like to be as realistic as I can be when playing make-believe).  So I said I was a baby and she could feed me my breakfast in bed (??? I was being lazy).  She stood there for a second (probably deciding how to handle her difficult kid).  Then she lifted up her shirt and shoved my face against her stomach to nurse me.  I couldn't stop laughing.