Tuesday, March 4
You know, whenever I sing to Everett, he always chimes in at the very last word of every sentence. Belts that word out with gusto and volume and always anticipates the words that are coming before I get there in the song. He's never sung a whole song before. I'll ask him to sing it for me, and he'll get started. "Twink-uuuul Twink-uuul ..." but then he'll realize he's the only one singing and he'll dive under the pillow in shyness. It's the first time I've ever seen him get shy, but singing by himself in front of others, even with lots of applause and encouragement, makes that little face scrunch up and request that "mama do it". So after I'd tucked him in bed the other night, it was a HUGE surprise, when I heard the entirety of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, sung out word for word, from his darkened bedroom. It twisted my entire heart up, I wanted to burst into his room with applause. But I didn't want to interrupt what he thought was a private performance, so he sang himself to sleep, and it was the absolute best to stand with my ear to his door and listen.
I'm not sure where he got this, but Everett makes a toast to everything that is the same. One afternoon, he scooted up next to Tyson who had a blanket draped over his lap. Everett adjusted his own blanket on his lap and then knocked their blankets together. "Cheers!" he said. If Tyson is holding a computer mouse and Everett is holding a computer mouse, they get knocked together. "Cheers!" If he has a cup of milk in one hand and a cup of water in the other, they get knocked together. "Cheers!" Shirts, screwdrivers, toy cars, you name it. It's worth a toast.
Another time, as Everett was falling asleep in his bed, he kept saying "Tomato!! I LIKE it!" over and over like 50 times until he was totally quiet. Hilarious.
The pictures above were from a weekend that we were grabbing pizza in DC. He would take his glasses on and off, and every time he put them back on, he'd approve with an, "ohhhhh yeahhhhhh" while checking himself out in the mirror.
He just discovered the peep-hole in our front door, and asks to be picked up so he can look through it on a regular basis. On a lucky occasion, he'll be looking through it while a neighbor walks by and he'll ask through the door, "What're you doing?! Where are you going?!" I would love to hear what that sounds like from the other side one of these days haha.
Everett has always been super in-tune with what's going on with my body and with my emotions. He loves counting the freckles on my legs and was absolutely thrilled when he found his very first freckle right on his knee. He loves identifying the colors on my face, like my eyes and my lips and my hair. If I yawn, he yawns. If I sneeze, he sneezes. He's always been a hyper-observant little boy. I don't think I have hardly any pictures of him smiling before he was a year old just because he was always so serious, sitting back from the world and observing. The other day I stubbed my toe so hard that it started to bleed and hurt like the freakin dickens. I ran to the other side of the room to hunch over and take a better look at my toe and Everett ran over and threw his arms around my neck and started to cry about MY "owie". It broke my heart. And because of that, I feel like I have to be so careful around him when showing emotion because I never want him to feel like it's his responsibility to make me feel better, you know? Another time, we were watching the Olympics and I teared up for a second because the Olympics are AWESOME, so Everett grabbed his blanket and wiped my eyes, put Wink in my lap, and and started feeding me some of his snacks. Yet another time, I was hunched over the ipad with my head in my hand, which I guess he interpreted to be a sad pose, so he walked in front of me, looked up and cupped my face in his hands and asked, "Whas wrong, Mama?" I of course answered that nothing was wrong. I was SO happy. And I poked the dimples in my smiling cheeks, which is how we signal to each other when we're feeling happy. He's equally observant of happiness and if I'm laughing at what I'm reading, he'll peek over my shoulder to see what I'm looking at and start laughing too, even though it's just a bunch of words. But it's in those moment of sensitivity, when he's rubbing my cheek and saying "iss alright", that I look at him and just think, "you are truly the kindest human being" and I'm so glad he's mine. I heartily believe that his nature is pulling through much stronger than my nurture and I'm so grateful that he is who he is, already at two-years-old. I feel like I'm going to learn a thousand lessons from him in this lifetime.