At any given moment in time, you will probably not find me droning on and on about how INCREDIBLE my kids are, how they are without a doubt geniuses who can read at the age of six months and speak fluent French by the time they turn two. That's just not me. I don't wish to be one of "those moms" who goes on endlessly about how superior her kids are to every other snot nosed little brat. Don't get me wrong: I am usually THINKING these exact things in my head, but I know how unbecoming it is to actually say the words out loud because I have witnessed it firsthand. I prefer to let my kids' actions speak for themselves. "What a POLITE kid that Ella is!", "She sure does talk well for her age", or "That Charlie, he is a world champion pooper". Okay, so Charlie doesn't have much to brag about yet, but whatever. But, I must toot Ella's horn for her for a moment, because we have discovered a hidden talent in her these past few weeks. Art! Gone are the scribbles and doodles of toddlerhood, making way for actual pictures that everyone can recognize for what they are. Who needs soccer or team sports when I am living with the next Jackson Pollock? Screw you, cleats and shin guards and neon orange jerseys. Ella's got a Crayola marker and she's not afraid to use it.