We must be doing something right

Yesterday morning I was in the bathroom, tidying up and muttering to myself about how I just couldn't pick up after three people every day all day long and ever do anything else, and I was just so overwhelmed, and grumble, grumble, growl, ad nauseam.
Faelan came in and asked, "Talking to Daddy?"
"No," I said, feeling sheepish. "I'm talking to myself."
He gave me a dubious look, thought a minute, and then decided, "Talking to heaven." I was startled, and ashamed, and grateful.
"No," I said, "but that's a really good idea. Thank you for reminding me." And then I did say a word or two to the Trinity, though mostly the Spirit, since I was pretty incoherent. The day was brighter after that.

Things he says in his sleep

"Sit down, sit down there!"
"Oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy, oh, Daddy!"
[whimpering] "I'm sorry."
"Hab it! Hab it!"
"I need it. Need the little one."

June 2009 Video

Talking in Francis's living room, about the cat:

"This is a red ball. I can roll the ball to Tom-Tom."

He does so.

"Here, Tom-Tom. Come down and bite the ball."

Things he says now

"Yeah, I can do dat!"
"I don't yike dat."

"I want you pull on me," meaning "I want you [to] pull me on [the blanket]"

September 2009

September 2009

Ingredients

Lately, Faelan's taken to asking us what's in the food we eat. When we put a bowl of cream of broccoli soup in front of him, he was unimpressed until we told him there were broccoli, onions, potatoes, cow's milk, a bouillon cube, and water in the soup, with cheese on top. "Whoa!" he said, and started eating with enthusiasm.

A few days ago, Joel made grilled cheese sandwiches for supper, and Faelan's was too hot, so he took it apart to cool. When it was cool enough, he ate a little cheese out of it, then put it back together. Then he pointed at it, the tip of his finger just touching the cheesy middle of the sandwich.
"What in here, Daddy?"
"Cheese."
"No." He shook his head, grinning. "Finger in there."
Ha ha.