In Her Own Words

Elianna has always had a rather extensive vocabulary for her age, but as fun as it is to hear her blurt something entirely age-inappropriate, my favorites are still the words she pronounces wrong. Yes, you read that right. I think it's cute, I don't correct her, and I glare at anyone who does. As cute as they are, and as hard as it is for me to admit she won't be talking this way in a few years (we hope), I know in time we forget these kinds of things, so I am going to record some of them. Naturally, when I go to write them, my mind goes blank, so I'll have to update this post as I think of more. Translations are in parentheses.

One Day... This is how she begins ANY story that she is "reading" to you. Even if it's an ad paper fom Target, she'll pick it up, tilt her head and say, "One day..."

Wubby-dams (rubberbands) I about died laughing when she came up to me and said, as serious as can be, "Mom, I need to comb Todd's hair. I need a comb and some wubby-dams.

Lay! (Yay!) This is another carry-over from when she was younger. She used to substitute "l" for "y" but for the most part she doesn't do that anymore. Although occasionally she asks to play in the back "lard."

Shhh, Mommy, Todd has a hegg-ache. (headache)

My pants are falling down. I need to put on my seat belt. (I had mentioned to Chad that I needed to get her a belt, since her pants keep slipping down. She looks like a little plumber.)

Pee-Yew! I need to take a bathtub!

I want to go on a pick-a-nip! (A picnic)

Mmmm, I like to eat wubby-olies! (ravioli)

I need to packiness (practice) the piano.

Ew, I don't like baby kosh (squash)! (She calls ALL baby food "baby kosh," since that used to be all Selah would eat.)

Here, hold my God. (She calls her Sunday School papers/crafts her "God" and hands them to me when she leaves class with this directive.)

Is me are! (An extremely grammatically incorrect way of saying, "Here I am!")

It's pobby in my poo woom. (Probably in my playroom.) I don't know why she says "playroom" like that. I think it's just the way she's always said it, so she figures, "Why change now?!"

Is he teeny like my Selah? (Any time she sees or hears us talk about a baby, she asks that.) Actually, I think it's adorable the way she always refers to Selah as "my Selah." Especially in public, if anyone dares to go near her she'll yell, "No touching my Selah! Don't look at my Selah! Stop laughing on my Selah!"

Can I go outside with my booh (bare) feet?

If I notice a new scrape or bruise and ask her, "Where did you get that?" She'll shrug, look thoughtful, and say, "Pobby at Wommet (Wal-mart)." At first, I thought this meant she actually hurt herself at Wal-mart, but then after getting this answer too many times I realized she just thinks if you "get" something... you probably got it at Wal-mart.

Now this next one requires some explanation or you will think I'm just being obscene. Elianna began yelling, "Oh, shoot!" every time something ticked her off. Which is pretty frequently. I got "the look" from Chad every time she said this, since I am the one who first blurted this out in front of her. Anyway, I tried offering some alternatives. We were watching a movie from her expanding Shirley Temple collection, and I noticed that Shirley says "Oh, my!" in an endearing way. It looks cute and feminine, so I suggested, "Oh, my!" to Elianna the next time something happened. She yelled, "Oh my shoot!" I then suggested, "Oh, my goodness!" Elianna replied (loudly), "Oh shoot my goo-ness!" So Chad gets the bright idea to try something off the wall, and he yells (loudly), "Holy Guacamole!" Her face lit up, and she has yelled that ever since. There is a BIG problem with this. If you'll recall from an earlier post, my daughter, for some time now, has pronounced her "w" sound as a "f." Although she obviously talks much better than she did back then, she still likes to go for a falk (walk) and complains when she doesn't font (want) to do something. So, you guessed it, "Holy Guacamole" becomes "Holy Fockalamoley!" It must has been the shocked reaction on our faces, or the gales of laughter from everyone who hears this horrid word from the mouth of my innocent babe; one or the other has made this her new exclamation of choice. Frequently. Suddenly, "Shoot" doesn't sound so bad.