Cece says

i'm sure it comes of having an older sister, but Cecilia talks even more than Greta did at the ripe old age of twenty-seven months (that's two years and change for those who don't like baby-age math). and she makes us laugh every single day with her shenanigans. here are a few gems from the last few weeks that i don't want to forget.

"but Mom! i weally want to poke Gweta with my fork!"

on a sunny day: "Mom! can you turn off the bright?"

while chasing us around the room: "i'm a hot dog monster!"

"no thank you to my nap, Mom! no thanks!" (and then when i proceeded to put her down for a nap anyway: "NO NAPS! NO NAPS! NO NAPS!")

whenever she gets to play with her friends here, she talks about it for days afterwards. "i yike to see Sophia and Edwa'd and Weopold [Leopold] and baby Penapee [Penelope] and Wizabeth [Elizabeth] and Sebastian! ALL MY FWENDS! they are bery nice!"

at mass when the bishop removed his mitre during the readings: "Mom! wook at ALL THE PWIESTS! i see the bishop! MOM! wheah the bishop's white hat?!? his hat all gone!" (the seminarians sitting next to us got a big kick out of that one!)

me: "Cece, if you had a baby brother, what should his name be?"
Cece: "his name should be.... SISTER!"
(please note, this is not an announcement!)

talking about the porter at Greta's school, who buzzes the door open for us: "that's Mario! Mario is a bery good porter! he bery kind!"

this picture was taken a few weeks before her beloved minky was lost.
she was showing her princesses how to do "some stretches".