He also counts to eleven.

Dear Diary,

I guess what I've been experiencing would be considered writers' block if I were an actual writer). Every time I think about sitting down to write something my brain turns to clay and I go watch Wipeout instead. So maybe I'll let Edwin do the talking. Here are some of his current sayings:

"Eddin a WANT it. Eddin a HODE it." (I want that. I want to hold it.)
"Tum up! Tum up!" (Pick me up.)
"Eddin a go een durr." (I want to go in there.)
"Mommy sit flurr." (Will you please sit here on the floor with me?)
"NO dis one." (This song sucks; next track.)
"Mommy go in other room." (I want to bro out with Daddy, no chicks allowed.)

So he is talking a lot, and it's pretty cute. And it's hard not to laugh at all the rude and/or inappropriate things he says. Like when I ask him if he went poop, and he says, "No, fart." Or when he orders us about and I tell him to please ask nicely, and he says, "Nice-LEEE" with a smile.

But for now, it's still pretty cute.

Love,
Fluffy