No pix to post, but a few stories. The other day while Carey and I were still at the hospital with Lincoln, Greta wakes up from her nap and she and Grandma go downstairs to play. Greta begins to sing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." Makes it through the first couple lines no problem, but stops just before "like a diamond in the sky." Looks at Grandma and plaintively says: "Help me out here!"
Big Sister is also learning how to share. We have a bouncy seat that she remembers. Probably because she sat in it all the way up to 18 months. (It converts into a rocker.) Anyway, it's now one more place to put Lincoln as you run around the house picking up Greta's toys or relax for 3 minutes at breakfast. This morning Carey was doing the latter, so she pulled the chair into the eat-in kitchen and plopped him down in it. Greta was playing nicely at the kitchen table, using molds to make shapes out of Play-Doh. But when Lincoln's little fanny hit that bouncy seat, out came the screams of "No! Mine! Mine! Mine!" Carey intones a lesson about sharing in her best pedantic voice. Tears are streaming down Greta's face. Carey promises Greta can sit in it after breakfast, when Lincoln is done with it. But Big Sister is relentless. Continues throughout breakfast to point out that it's her chair and Lincoln is just borrowing it. After breakfast, Mommy picks up Lincoln and Greta drags the chair out of the kitchen. Makes it all the way to the living room, then tires from pulling it. I ask her where she wants the chair to go. "Upstairs," she says. "Not for Lincoln."
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