William kinda like a wolf!

After she lined up William and her dollies like this yesterday, I asked Eliza if she would like to come eat breakfast. She replied: "No, I'm staying here with the kids."

Eliza is the queen of the non-sequitur. If there is ever a lull in conversation she will get a concerned look on her face and ask me: “Mom, wolves kinda like dogs?” “Yes, Eliza.” I reply “Wolves are kinda like dogs.” “Ooooooh” she says as if this explanation has set her world aright and she sits thinking about it for a long time.
Another topic that she never tires of bringing up is: “Grandpa’s a farmer?” "Yes Eliza," I tell her, "Grandpa’s a farmer." (This isn’t totally true, my father-in-law owns a farm, and the Mennonites are the actual “farmers.” She got this idea in her head when we drove up with him to visit the farm and it seems to have really elevated Grandpa in her eyes- which hardly seems possible considering he is the man that introduced her to sugar.)

I have known children before that seem to understand more than they can say. Eliza, on the other hand, reminds me of a parrot who can say a lot more than she understands. Case in point: in the last few days alone she has (unprompted) asked or talked about: Barack Obama, John Adams, the Constitution and common law.
William is getting chunkier and hungrier than ever. William is a very sweet little baby during the day, but at night something strange seems to happen to him. From his cradle in our bedroom we will suddenly hear grunting, snorting, sneezing, panting. We will look in his crib and there he is, half asleep, but gnawing ferociously on his hand like a little monster. Basically, he likes to eat all night long! Last night Eliza started imitating his snorting sounds and then asked me: “Mom, William kinda like a wolf?”