Today after our grocery escapade, Grace was in her room, quiet as could be. She put her baby doll to sleep in her bed - gave her a kiss, said I love you - then instructed me to be "very quiet" because she was asleep. I said, "Oh, how long does she have to sleep?""Six months," she said.
Priceless.
Then, during lunch, she said, "It's summer today. You can wear your mittens and go swimming with me." I love how Grace's world doesn't yet have a sense of time in it. Whatever she hears, from music, from me, from Bill - becomes part of her world. Like one big run-on sentence. I love it.
