Suddenly, Elena (almost five and a half) seems like she's taken several leaps in growing up.  She's her same cheerful and funny self, but now she's using expressions that reflect a more nuanced way of thinking.

For example, today on the way to the pool:

"Yenna, you know me and Nathan think farting is really funny.  Grownups don't think it's funny.  But recently I was laughing so hard that I started farting in rhythm to my laughter, and Mommy and Daddy--who usually act all serious about it--couldn't help but laugh too."

Of course, I laughed at the very reporting of it--to which she said, "You totally get it, Yenna. You totally get it."

Then she said, "I notice you always laugh when things are funny."

To which I said, "I guess that's because I have a sense of humor like you."

"That's because you're mostly always really happy," she said.

When she first arrived in her fuzzy pajamas this morning, we put some fruit-flavored electrolyte tablets in our water.  She learned the word effervescent.  She loves new words.

Here she is discovering effervescence.  When you're five and a half, everything is SO interesting--from all angles.

"I really think it's cool being a little sister.  Cause your big brother is the one who usually has to clean up everything after you play."

"I think you're losing weight on your arms," she tells me.

"Do you like skinny grandmothers or not-so-skinny ones?" I ask her.

"I don't care.  I just love you the way you are, exactly the way you are."

"I love to look at animals and figure out what's wrong and see if I can fix it," she says.

"Then you would probably be a good veterinarian," I say.

"Even if someone brought in a possum, I wouldn't be grossed out or anything," she tells me.  "But I am starting to be a little bit scared of spiders."