Yesterday, Ella took off all her clothes and ran outside.

Trish: “Ella, come in here! You’re naked!”

Ella: “But Mommy, I’m wearing my shoes.”


On one of the first few pages of “Go Dog, Go,” a little dog is pulling a big dog.


“I don’t know, Ella. Why?”

“Because his tummy hurts.”


“Because he ate a lion.”

“Really? Where?”

“Back here, on this page. Right there.”


I heard on the radio the other day about a woman whose family pulled her out of school when she was 8 and spent a couple of years traveling the world.

When I got home I told Ella that we’re going to pull her out of school when she is 12 and live around the world. I asked her where she wants to live.


Umm. Noooooo.



How about Sydney? Isn’t Sydney a nice name?

No. I don’t want to live in Sydney.



How about San Sebastian, or Valencia?

Yes. Valencia.

So, Dusseldorf and Valencia.

And  Dora.


Yes, Dora. I want to go to Dora.