What's up, Popcorn?

We're making progress. Rudy will at least sit on the potty now. She does it probably once a day or so. But nothing happens. Lambie gets more done on her yellow toy potty, which, by the way, Rudy's started to tote along everywhere, including her bed.

More exciting then Rudy's potty progress, though, is her recent and constant singing and song-writing. She's getting into that phase I remember loving when Riley was in the thick of it, the one where it's more fun to sing everything that's happening than it is to say it. It's sort of like I'm living in a high-pitched, off-key musical. And the other day, she switched it up because she got a little thuggish. One morning while we were running errands, I heard her tough guy voice from her car seat behind me. She was chanting, "'Sup, pop-CORN? 'Sup, pop-CORN?" and dancing a little bit, too. I may be embellishing, but she was also throwing signs. And try to hear the second syllable in popcorn drawn out the way Flavor Flav says boy, and you've got it.

It turned into a little bit of a thing that morning, and then I kept trying to get her to do it again for Heather. It's sort of sticking, but not really. Anyhow, since then I've been calling her Popcorn. And, obviously, asking her what's up.