My tiny girl

Yesterday, on the way to pick the boys up from school, Neva told me that she had watched a Netflix show, a show that I had prohibited after viewing about ten minutes and finding the main character to be really unpleasant. “The ladybug girl isn’t bad,” she declared. “She just doesn’t want to be friends with that other girl.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, she’s not bad, Mom. I watched the whole show.”

“With whom?!”

“Yeah!”

I think she might have suckered Brian into playing it for her. 

And last night, when Brian came home with a beautiful ten-point buck, she ran outside to see, then came back to tell me, “MOM. Daddy caught a deer!”

——

The other day:

Neva: “Mom, I really hate to tell you this, but-”

Mac: “Mom!”

Neva: “Mac! I’m trying to talk to Mommy! Ok, Mom. Mom, I know you’re not going to like this, but-”

Mac: “Mom!”

Neva: “MAC! Please stop! I’m trying to tell Mommy something! Mom, I really hate to tell you this, but-”

Mac, now smirking with mischief: “Mom.”

Neva: “Mac! You’ve got to stop distrupting me! I’m trying to talk to Mommy! Mom, I know you’re not going to like this, but-”

Mac: “Mom!”

Neva: “MAC!”

Me: “Neva, ignore him! For goodness’ sake! What do you need to tell me?”

Neva (grinning impishly, looking out at the sunshine, grasping for something to say): “Ummm, it’s probably going to rain.”

——

Today, while wiping her after going potty:

Neva: Mom, I HATE bears.

Me: What? You don't hate bears, Neva.

Neva: I don't hate the Berenstain Bears. I hate real bears. I HATE them.

Me: Oh, honey, bears are really important. Without bears, there would be TOO many elk and TOO many deer. They'd eat too many resources and they'd get sick.

Neva: I HATE bears. They want to EAT me.

Me: Neva, you don't need to worry about bears. They don't live anywhere near here.

Neva: No, Mom! The panda bears! They are SO dangerous.

Me: Neva, panda bears eat plants! And they don't live anywhere near here!

Neva: Mom! they don't live in Africa space! They live right next to our HOUSE!

——

She has this cute little valley girl way of talking. The other day I heard her express decidedly, in the tone of voice you might hear a teenager using to describe her manicure, “I LOVE Jesus. I LOVE the Lord.” And can this girl TALK. She talks pretty much nonstop, and it’s delightful to listen in. She intersperses her observations with nonsense words and phrases, just to keep a steady stream going. I can hear exactly what she’s thinking at every moment. And a lot of the commentary takes place in front of- or passing- a mirror. She acts like she’s talking to someone, but what she’s really doing is verifying that she is successfully pulling off an imitation of a big girl. 

She mothers Mac and dotes on him, except for the times when she gets a mischievous gleam in her eyes and decides its time to reestablish the pecking order. Overall, she’s a wonderful big sister and often remarks, “This is my baby brother. He’s SO cute. I just LOVE him. I’m just going to KEEP him.”

She literally sings my praises. I often hear her singing,

My mommy is the best,

The best there ever was,

My mommy is the best, 

And I love her just because

She takes care of me and loves me and [insert extra reasons]

She’s the greatest mommy that I have ever seen!

She’s the greatest mommy that I have ever seen-

(Repeat refrain indefinitely)

I certainly don’t deserve that, but do I love it?! I do. 

The little bit of love I pour into Neva returns one-hundredfold. She, unfortunately, does not get a lot of attention from me. Between Mac’s constant shenanigans and homeschooling the oldest two, she has to entertain herself much of the day. And she really does a wonderful job of it, even though she would love to spend hours playing with ME. She’s such a good girl, and I’m so thankful for her. 

Back in Montana, in our “sister shirts” from Aunt Kathleen