You can tell it is heating up down here, because the hijos keep asking me for water, water, and more water (and yeah, most of the time Mac asks for chocolate milk first, then, after being denied, he settles for water). But we are thirsty.
Both figruatively and literally.
Carter has an insatiable thirst for knowledge of how things work. This morning, as we were awakened by a blur of full-throttle, rather-one-sided conversation from an alert Cart, Matt mumbled, "Does he ever stop talking?"
For instance, the other day, Carter and I were talking about how he and Mac were born early . The gears started churning in that 5-year-old-going-on-30 brain of his, and the following was the resulting conversation:
Carter: Mom, what if a baby decides it doesn't want to come out of the mom's tummy?
Me: Well, then the mom gets really sore and grouchy, and her body pushes it out. (*Note* Heretofore, Carter has (reasonably) believed that all babies come out via c-section. That nice and tidy explanation worked for me up till now . . .)
Carter: But why? And how?
Me: Well, when it was time for you to come out, the doctor cut my tummy and just took you out.
Carter: But what if the doctor isn't there to cut the mom's tummy?
Me: Well, sometimes the daddy has to help.
Carter: How? Does he cut the mommy's tummy with a knife?
Me: Um, I guess he could, but . . .
Carter: Really? Could Dad do it? What knife would he use, mom? Show me which knife in our kitchen he would use to get the baby out.
Me: Ok, well, the reality is, Carter, that most babies don't come out through a mom's tummy. Lots of times they come out between a mom's legs.
Carter: Where she goes to the bathroom?!?!?!
Me: Yes, but--
Carter: THAT'S DISGUSTING!!!!
And that was the end of that.
First opening day of little league in my mothering years. And it was awesome. 
Carter looked like a seriously intense ball player. Watch out, majors, here we come! He had SO much fun!
