We discovered, quite by accident, that the girl, a whole 18 months old, can "read" her name. Oh, and it's not just her name. She picks out her brother's too. She recognizes both names in the places she's seen them on a regular basis and in places they've never been in before. Write down "M-E-G-A-N" and she points to the word, then herself saying "May-may. Me!" Of course May-may is the closest she comes to saying Megan.
Apparently she can also count to three in Spanish. Thanks to Dora books and the occasional Dora and/or Diego show, she knows a few other Spanish words. Her most favorite is "Nose-chiz" (as in buenas noches - good night.)
She's fascinated by the bathroom. She's fascinated by her brother's underwear. To keep her from stealing his briefs and trying to wear them over her clothes, we bought her own. She's sat on the potty. She's used it a few times - with no regular consistancy. This morning the three of us chatted about the potty. Logan told her the big preschooler secret - they all use the potty. No diapers. Megan stared at him with a look of total awe. Then she said, with complete conviction, "No diapah. Unnerwear." I'm really ok with the matra sinking in and taking hold.
Lately it's become clear that Megan understands the vast majority of what is said *to* her. We've begun to try to explain things to her in light of the fact. Last night I talked to her about going to sleep on her own in the crib at night the way she does for naps. She stared at me and said simply "No. Rock rock chair."
"But Megan, do you see Logan rocked to sleep?" She shook her head. "That's because he's a big kid, right? He goes to sleep on his own in his room."
She stared for a moment. Then she smiled, a big, wide, I'll show you smile. "Me," she said patting her chest. "Baby. No big dirl. Baby. Rock rock chair."