There's so much to talk about. Too bad I have nothing to say. There's Linnea, old enough to play a newborn on tv. Chewing on her hands and rolling onto her back. There's Matilda, picking up new words every hour and wanting the tiny *pinching fingers together* spoon and the tiny block and the tiny toy. There's me asking her who's on the video conference. Her saying "farfar" (father's father) when it's not, it's Niclas' brother, Fredrik.
There's Fredrik, refusing to believe he looks just like his father.
