Three, going on thirty

Nora's got the chickens in the bag. She knows that they are happening and is confident that we have invested enough time and energy into this pursuit that she can stop nagging us about it. That's all I can figure, because she has a new obsession.

Don't get me wrong. She still loves her theoretical chickens and is counting the days until they arrive in her life. (Well, she would be if she could count that high. ) But there is something that she keeps coming back to....

For example, here is the picture she brought home from school today. (Sorry it's sideways. Blogger apparently can't recognize fine art enough to hang it on the wall the right way up. She's the next Jackson Pollock, I know it.)

In her words, the tall one with short hair is Daddy. The short one with black hair is Mommy. The short one with the heart shaped face is Nora Lee. Oh, and is that our dog next to you, Nora? No, no. That's my baby sister. You can tell because her feet are off to the side. Babies can't stand up, you know.

She has also informed me that I will have a baby in my tummy by her birthday and that we will name her Ellie. It's okay if there is more than one Ellie at her school, because only one will be hers. Apparently, daddies shine their flashlights into mommies to light the way for babies (I don't even want to know where that one came from.) And if I'm having trouble making a baby for her, Daddy will be happy to help.

After her nap the other day, the conversation went like this:

Nora: Mommy, I dreamed I had a baby sister.

Me: Oh, really. Was it a good dream?

Nora: Yeah. How about this- I'm going to go watch my movie and you work on that.

Seriously. "You work on that." Direct quote.