Lottieland

It's just . . . different. She's great, I love her, I wish she could stay for a lot longer. But . . .

She's polite. All the time. Yes ma'am, no ma'am. Yes sir. Please may I?

Last night we had tacos, and she ate over her plate without us having to ask. Sam couldn't find his plate and dropped taco innards all over his lap for the entire meal. Jonah wasn't much better, and Stephen and Timothy can eat tacos without shattering them.

She's changed clothes 3 times today already. I have to cajole and plead with my boys to convince them that they can't wear the same shirt 3 days in a row. Changing underwear usually requires threats.

Today, when my wife got back from her morning carpool run/child switchoff, Lottie walked in from the garage and yelled, "Hello! We're back!" It took me a second to realize that she was talking to me (my guys usually just run in and head straight for the TV or their toys). She wouldn't stop yelling hello until I responded.

Then she told me about who had come home with her, where they had gone, etc. I sat there amazed. Never, ever, had so much information been offered to me voluntarily.

She heads out tomorrow to stay with another aunt, then her grandparents (she's a popular girl).

I'm going to miss her terribly.