Yesterday, as often happens, Evie woke up before Anna. After changing her diaper, I played with her for a few minutes until she became interested in a toy. Then I went back to the kitchen where I was making caramels and fudge. When Evie started to babble loudly (yell), I looked up to see that she had crawled over to Anna's closed bedroom door and was trying to stand up against it. I didn't want her to wake Anna up, so I ran over and brought her into the kitchen with me. I played with her again, and gave her some toys to play with. When she was distracted, I went back to assembling the ingredients for a batch of fudge. When I heard the slap of her hands as she crawled across our wood floor, I checked on her and saw that once again she was crawling as fast as she could over to Anna's door. I caught up with her just as she reached Anna's door and when I picked her up she yelled, "Nanna!" I guess Evie likes Anna even though Anna takes all her toys away.

Lately, we've been telling Anna that Dan is busy, but she always responds, "You're dizzy Dad?" Yup, Dad is dizzy and busy.

This morning we were on our way to the UPS store to ship a Christmas package to my grandparents. Anna loves packages and we've been getting a ton this time of year, almost every day. In fact, I can often hear the UPS truck coming because it's brakes squeal. If I'm fast enough, I'll try to get to the door before they can pound on it and wake all my kids up. For some reason, they always come during nap time and they always knock as if they've got a search warrant and they're coming in.

Anna also knows that it's always dudes that bring the packages. So as we were on our way to the UPS store and I was explaining that we're sending a package, not receiving one, she asked, "We're giving it to the dudes?"

"We'll probably give it to a chick," I told her, but then I decided that referring to the women at the UPS store as chicks isn't very liberated or feminist of me, so I revised my statement. "A lady. We'll give it to a lady."

"Oh, a lady chicken?" Well, not quite, but probably better than a chicken lady.