Ever

I haven't been great at keeping track of the funny things Ever does and says, but here are some I recorded over the past months:

While we were baking: "I like brown sugar. JoAnn gives it to me all the time." (Beware - she will tell on you.)

Randomly: "Noly [JoAnn's son Nolan] says I don't have eyebrows." (Kind of true. They weren't very visible, although they are getting darker now.)

While we were at the park with friends, Ever wanted me to push her in the swing. Most of the adults were chatting over by the picnic table. When I went to the swings, I told Ever, "In a minute I need to go back and talk to the big people." She answered, "They probably don't want you to talk to them. They probably won't answer."

One night before prayer, I talked to Ever about praying for Dun Dun's mommy because she's sick. Ever kept asking if Dun Dun's mommy is Coco, and I explained that Coco is Dun Dun's wife, not Dun Dun's mommy. We went over it a few times. Then Ever said the prayer, with prompting from me. I said, "Please bless Dun Dun's mommy." She said, "Please bless Dun Dun's mommy, which is Coco."

As I was getting ready to fix her lunch, I asked Ever, "How hungry are you?" She replied, "I'm 46 hungry."

She uses the contraction "amn't," as in "Why amn't I?" or "I amn't."

Her favorite word is "actually." She uses it all the time.

While getting into her carseat:
Ever: "I don't like being buckled."
Me: "But the buckle keeps you safe."
Ever: "I don't like being safe. I like being hurt so I can get BandAid."

She likes to play a game with Jim where they run around the house pretending they're running away from the "bad man" or the "wicked oni" (inspired by the book The Funny Little Woman). Sometimes while Jim and Ever are driving, the bad men run after them at incredibly high speeds. Other times Ever says the bad men are not chasing them; they're in the house "dropping poopies" before Jim and Ever arrive. She also has some imaginary "smelly friends." I don't really understand.

The weekday morning ritual is as follows: Ever pads into our room, usually earlier than we want her to. She largely or entirely ignores me and goes around to Jim's side of the bed. They play and wrestle for a while. Jim gets dressed. Ever goes downstairs with him, sits next to him while he eats his cereal, and makes him feed her much of it. When Jim leaves for work, we go outside and follow the car down the driveway into the road, waving all the while. Jim rolls down his window and says, "Bye-bye! I love you!" And Ever yells it back. We wave until Jim disappears around the bend.

While I was at a Relief Society presidency meeting at the church, wearing a striped shirt, I got this text from Jim: "Ever just spontaneously said, 'I love Mommy, but she's not here. I love her clothes. I love her stripes.'" She often compliments me on my attire. "I like your shirt," "I love your dress," etc. The other day I was having trouble finding an outfit for church that I could fit into and not look hideous in. I ended up throwing on a jean jacket, and Ever said, "Why you put on a jacket I don't like?"

Instead of "computer" she says "pear-dee." She pronounces "ambulance" like "am-bee-unce."

Sometimes she says she's very sick; her legs don't work. We have to take her to the hospital in an am-bee-unce. We try to call lots of doctors, but she says all of them are bad, and so far I've never been able to cure her leg ailment during this game. Apparently Jim once he had a magic necklace that healed Ever but did not work on Jasmine (her doll), who was also afflicted. (I may have mentioned before that both of Ever's dolls are named Jasmine, after Karen and Carl Wilson's cat.)

She still loves "made-up stories," even more than books, and wants one before every nap or bedtime. She generally insists that Ever, Mommy, and Daddy be in every story. The other night I told her a story inspired by Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I started, "Once upon a time there was a little girl named Veronica." She said, "And Ever?" I said, "Sure. And Ever." So in that story, she and Veronica and two unnamed boys found golden tickets and got to visit the chocolate factory. There, Veronica, who was spoiled and terrible, was repeatedly disobedient and ultimately turned into a blueberry. She was rolled away and never heard from again. Ever wanted to turn into a blueberry. I tried to make it clear that Veronica was bad and becoming a blueberry was bad, but Ever still had to be the blueberry in the end. My co-worker just told me about personalized books you can order that put your child in the story. Ever would love that.

Jim always sings hymns to Ever when he puts her to bed - "Brightly Beams Our Father's Mercy," "All Creatures of Our God and King," "Lead Kindly Light," "I Need Thee Every Hour," etc. When they sing "All Creatures of Our God and King," they hold the last "alleluia" of each verse for as long as possible, doing weird things with their voices (and laughing) while they do. Sometimes out of nowhere (like during lunch) Ever sings parts of "Brightly Beams" - "Let the lower lights be burning, send a gleam across the wave." She wants me to sing hymns to her, and I have to tell her I don't know the words like Daddy does. When I tried to sing "Brightly Beams," she corrected me when I messed up the words. She only knows bits and pieces, but it's really cute. Now we're doing Christmas songs, too, like "Angels We Have Heard on High," "Silent Night," and "The First Noel." She's starting to learn them and was attempting (very poorly) to sing "The First Noel" when I left her in her room tonight.

She is still sleeping in her crib (although we'll be moving her into the other room shortly). The crib bottom is lowered all the way down, and we've taken off the side. She likes to stand on the floor or on the corner of the mattress and sing into the corner of the side railing. She calls it her "nicrophone." The other day I heard her and Jim screaming "Take Me Home, Country Roads" before bed. Turned out it was a particularly electrifying performance into her nicrophone.

She calls Jim "Daddy," "Dad," and "Da-duh." I love the "Da-duh."

For the record, my current nicknames for the little one are mostly Missy, Goose, Love, and variations thereon: Missy Love, Missy Goose, Goosey, Little Goose, Goosey Love, Little Love, Love Dove, and Sweet Love are most common. Dolly and Dolly Girl are also still in circulation. I also call her "Munch" (short for Munchkin).