I hope Sophie will be in a better mood tomorrow than she was today. Today, she decided that she would kiss away her 3s with a bang. She was pretty much a nightmare the entire morning.
“I’m hungry! I’m hungry! I want a bagel! I want to go home!” On and on and on. I hope she’ll be in better spirits tomorrow. Over the last few months, she’s started to express herself using her face. Who needs words when her face amply suffices to let us know what kind of mood she’s in? Especially when she’s pissed off at us. The eyes go big and her mouth forms an angry ‘o’ pout. Sometimes, her eyes become narrow slits – that’s when she’s really annoyed.
It’s a good thing she doesn’t know that I completely forgot to make arrangements to bring a special treat to her class to celebrate her big day. I think that makes me a pretty bad mom. But there are all sorts of restrictions on ingredients, and I don’t have time to bake from scratch. So I’m a bad mom. At least I remembered to organize a birthday party for her.
I am crossing my fingers that she doesn’t pull any of her faces tomorrow while at her party. That would be embarrassing. Only smiles. Just smiles.
I am convinced that Sophie should be the next winner of the annual Gap casting call. How can they not love her curls and her face? I need to find the perfect photo to submit. Family and friends, help me, please!
I love this photo, but it doesn’t show off her Shirley Temple curls enough. If you have any photos of Sophie that you’d like to contribute, please send them to me. I’ll be combing through our pictures and taking new ones over the next couple of weeks.
The girls weren’t exactly playing Miss Mary Mack. Chloe invented a little clapping game that she was trying desperately to teach Sophie. Sophie didn’t quite get it. But Sophie didn’t want to give up. The photo is deceptive because it gives the impression that the two sisters were actually getting along. But after about 5 seconds, Chloe lost her patience and Sophie got frustrated.
Chloe then turned to me to give Sophie a demonstration. It went pretty well until Sophie started to get agitated because she was sitting on the sidelines. It must be hard to be the little sister. I don’t know what that feels like, having lorded over and tortured my little bro when I was a kid. But my guess is that being the younger sibling pretty much sucks (although, because Sophie is the little one, she sometimes get a little extra attention).
Sophie just asked about a missing toy that she suddenly remembered after about a year. I think I threw it out six months ago. “We have to find it,” she lamented. For once, I kept my mouth shut.
Yesterday was special mommy-Sophie day. Today was special mommy-Chloe-Grammy day. In NYC – to see “Billy Elliot.”
Let’s just say that I hit 2 for 2 this weekend. The little one loved “Cinderella” and Chloe loved “Billy Elliot.” In no particular order, Chloe loved the cursing (there was quite a bit of it), the male ballet dancer’s tight leggings (“Mom, you can see the outline of everything!”), the dancing and the loud music.
I was worried she’d be bored – but it turned out I had nothing to worry about. We had a lot of fun. And I can’t wait to go to the theater again.
Sophie and I had a lovely mommy-daughter day with our neighbors. My friend has a daughter Sophie’s age and we took the girls to see “Cinderella.” Not the saccharin-sweet Disney version of Cinderella, but a terrific fractured fairy tale version of the story, in the form of a puppet show at the New Victory Theater performed by Shona Reppe Puppets.
I was a little apprehensive that Sophie would react negatively to the show, since the only Cinderella she knows is the blond-haired cartoon manifestation that makes her think of princesses and pretty dresses, and makes me want to puke. There was no need to worry, however. The Cinderella we saw today was irreverent and very, very funny.
Using a table with a drawer (Cinderella’s room) and cutouts on the surface that served as the front door, the fireplace, the dog house and the evil stepsisters’ bedroom, the set was simple yet incredibly inventive. Cinderella was a marionnette-like puppet. The puppeteer’s hands – covered in two different-colored gloves – played the roles of the evil stepsisters. There was no stepmother, only a stepfather who was alluded to in a bits of dialogue but never seen.
Sophie loved it. She laughed and clapped, and laughed some more. It was a great day.
This is how people used to make smoothies before blenders. Actually, smoothies didn’t exist before blenders, so this is how people would have made smoothies before blenders. Needless to say, it wasn’t a pretty sight. The entire counter and the innocent fruit in the adjacent basket were all covered in a fairly unappetizing mix of yogurt, milk and fruit chunks by the time Chloe was done hammering on her concoction.
She showed us her firm muscles after she was done. It was a good workout. Unfortunately, the smoothie – well, not so good. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t really live up to its name.
Today was the big day. Chloe walked to and from the bus stop by herself for the first time.
A couple of minutes after she left, I went outside to the sidewalk to keep an eye on her. She must have sensed my presence, even though she was more than a block away, because she turned around and waved. She turned around again less than 30 seconds later to shoo me away.
So I hid behind our holly tree and spied on her. And made sure she made it to the stop safe and sound. You can bet I’ll be spying at least for the rest of the week. The bus stop is on our street, three short blocks away – it can’t be more than 1/4 mile from the house, if that much. So far, however, she’s the only kid walking to the stop by herself. And there are lots of kids there. Even the 4th graders are still accompanied by a parent.
A recent article in the NY Times discussed parents’ reluctance to let their children walk to school or to the bus stop by themselves. And I was talking to a friend today about this very issue. In my mind, there’s something magical about a kid gaining independence, whether it be in learning how to ride a bike or walking to the bus stop alone. And if you don’t allow children to grow in that way, you end up raising a kid who is stifled, sheltered, inexperienced and scared – not to mention at risk for rebellion later on.
Chloe was proud as can be that she’s able to walk herself to the bus. And we’re proud of her.
Our outing this weekend took us to Central Park, where the girls climbed lots and lots of rocks. They also shared germs over a disappointingly tasteless, overpriced lollypop.
Chloe had me swing her on the tire swing at one of the playgrounds, but I apparently didn’t do it properly. She was nauseous for about 1/2 hour afterwards.
After a quick picnic, we continued with our explorations. Ended up at the small lake where the remote-controlled boat aficionados show of their skills. Chloe discovered the joys of cracking open acorns with a rock; Sophie discovered that she could scare pigeons by throwing acorns at them. I’m telling you, between her desire to step on ants, and her newfound talent for using birds as moving acorn targets, we may have a future psychopath on our hands.
Sophie discovered Chloe’s mermaid costume the other day. And boy, was she excited. Being able to transform into a mermaid ranks almost as high as dressing up as a princess.
Our little one really liked that some of her belly showed. She thought that was quite cool. I thought it was borderline indecent. But that’s just because I’m getting old. What was potentially truly indecent was the halter top – because until we tied it just right, Sophie had a little too much booby action going on. Not that she particularly minded that, either.
Her teacher at pre-K told me today that she’s very quiet and shy in class. It’s only been a couple of days, so I’m not very concerned. Let’s face it, she’s been like that in group settings since she was an infant. She likes to observe. Except when she’s at home or with her family or friends – when she’s a clown. But in school or in an enrichment class, Sophie’s a different child. I’m interested to see what will happen with her as the year progresses, especially since she’s now in class full-time. I mean, this is a kid who dances, sings and runs around the house naked in pure joy. I hope that some of that carefree, happy-go-lucky attitude (without the naked) carries over into school.
Chloe came home with her brand-new math book today and tells me over the phone that she needs to put a book sock on it by tomorrow. We don’t keep book socks in the house. And what the hell kind of term is “book sock” anyway? What’s wrong with calling it what it is – a friggin’ book cover, for God’s sake.
I explained to Chloe that because both of her parents work, and because I got stuck at work late, we wouldn’t be able to make a shopping detour for a book sock by tomorrow’s deadline. Besides, we have a whole page of supplies to buy this weekend – why would I make a special trip for a sock?
I told her that back in the dinosaur days – when I was a kid – there was no such thing as a book sock. It was simply called a book cover. You could buy book covers in stores – they were usually coated in some saran wrap-type material that slowly started to peel off over time. But if parents didn’t want to spend the money, I explained, kids would cover their books using paper supermarket bags. Chloe was intrigued.
I promised my darling daughter that I would enrobe her book in the old-fashioned paper bag way tonight so that her newly covered book would be waiting for her in the morning. I also pointed out that unlike book socks, she’d be able to decorate the paper bag, too. That made her happy.
Book socks? Come on.
A Mom's Ramblings About the Marvels & Mishaps of Parenting, the Joys of Family Travel & the Writing Life
I hope Sophie will be in a better mood tomorrow than she was today. Today, she decided that she would kiss away her 3s with a bang. She was pretty much a nightmare the entire morning. 
