conversationalist.

I have to say, Carly is smart. Like, the other day we were talking about decorating the Christmas tree. I don't know if you remember, but the girl was genuinely traumatized by Halloween last year. I remember being in Indiana during Thanksgiving and having a hard time getting her to nap because she was still afraid of "the bats and the ghosts". Oh, man, that went on forever. So yesterday I told her Halloween was coming, and she asked to watch Garfield's Halloween (a favorite in Chris's family). Ten minutes in and she was freaked out. So she requested Garfield's Christmas instead and I indulged her because I'm trying really hard not to repeat last year's trauma. Wow . . . that was a tangent. But we were talking about decorating the Christmas tree and she said, "And I can wear my polka-dot dress again!" I had no idea what she was talking about, then I thought really hard and realized she was wearing a maroon dress with black polka-dots when we  decorated the tree last year. I'm beginning to wonder if the girl has a photographic memory or something, because she remembers some crazy things.

Anyway, her astuteness and curiosity have begun to lead to some interesting conversations, conversations I thought were still a ways off.

Lately, Carly has been laying on the ground and saying "I'm dead" over and over again. I told her not to play like that and she asked "Why? What is dead?" I told her it was when we leave our home forever and go to live with Heavenly Father. "Can Heavenly Father just come live at my house?" she responded. Of course she doesn't comprehend how incredibly sad death is, and at this point I prefer to focus on the part about going to live with Heavenly Father. But I don't feel comfortable with her laying on the ground saying she is dead. I steer her away from it, but that was my very first taste of trying to discuss something of such magnitude with her, and I feel like I got mixed results.

On Sunday mornings while we try to get everyone ready we let Carly watch church-related entertainment. She likes "Jesus shows", the Church-produced movies about Christ's life. I always keep an eye on it, and fast-forward through Crucifixion scenes because we feel they are a little too much for her age. This past Sunday she watched The Testaments for the first time and was completely fascinated. Every single thing that happened she wanted to discuss. This led to conversations about "bad people", people hurting each other, and even blindness. It also led to talking about the Crucifixion for the first time. I told her the storm was because Heavenly Father was so sad that Jesus had died. We watched Jesus come to the Nephites and she wanted to know why they were all looking at His hands. I did the best I could to explain these sacred things, and her eyes were wide. The Spirit was strong. I told her Jesus came back alive because He loves us so so much. And I teared up. She was getting it in her brilliant little 3-year-old way, and it was obvious she felt what I was feeling. It was all she wanted to talk about all day. She has perfect faith, not because she believes everything her mom says, but because she could feel it. Three years old and it was obvious she could feel it.

Carly is a constant source of joy and entertainment. But she is also becoming a little person, and conversations with her are becoming more complex and fascinating  I have learned with her that if you explain things logically, she will understand. (I love this, because the #1 thing that drives me crazy about babies is how irrational they are; they won't eat when they are hungry or sleep when they are tired!). I have a rule that she washes her hands when we get home, especially after school, nursery, and the library. I do anything to avoid sickness. Once she did not want to and started to throw a fit. I calmly knelt down and got her attention and said, "When you play with other kids, you get germs on your hands and those germs can make you sick. So you need to wash them off so you don't get sick." She thought for a second and said "Ok!" and ran to wash her hands. Now when I ask her to go wash her hands she says "Yeah, so I can get all the germs off!" Poor girl, I'm turning her into a germaphobe. But the point is, she comprehends. She understands.

I still look at her in awe. I looked back on our blog a few days ago at the video of Carly laughing at the tape measure (what a classic), and I can't believe that the brilliant little human I interact with all day every day was once that beautiful little baby. It is bittersweet that she is so grown up, but I cherish the words and thoughts that come out of her mouth, and I can't wait to see what conversations--silly, sad, spiritual, or otherwise--lie ahead.

She's my bff.
Couldn't have asked for a better firstborn.