We sifted through a couple of garbage bags, revealing several lost gloves (mostly mine) and lots of mittens and hats belonging to the girls.  Sophie had a field day.  As you can see from the photo, she was extremely amused by the hats and scarves and gloves, and was running around the house last night in glee.

Part of her happiness was due to the fact that Chloe agreed to play the part of Sophie’s dog, obligingly getting on all fours, barking and drinking water out of a bowl.  Sophie LOVED that (and if she were older and able to understand the symbolism of having her older sister play the part of a subservient animal, she would have LOVED it even more) and Chloe, for once, didn’t mind doing what her sister wanted her to do.

The role-playing lasted through this morning, when I heard some more barking coming from the play tent set up in the living room.  

But the best part of the day came when Sophie asked Chloe to “make real.”  The irony of this request is one for the ages.  When Chloe was about three years old, my mom entertained Chloe on a regular basis by providing voices to Chloe’s dolls and stuffed animals.  Chloe couldn’t get enough of this, and would beg my husband and me to “make real” too.  Her Papa consistently refused to fall into the trap, knowing that if he did it once, he’d have to do it all the time.  I, on the other hand, was (and still am) a sucker.  I agreed to do it a couple of times, and all I remember from that time was having to “make real” on a daily basis to avoid Chloe’s temper tantrums.  For several months we were tortured with requests to “make real.”  It was a nightmare.

Anyway, Sophie recently discovered the joys of “making real.”  Though not as addicted as Chloe, she asked Chloe to do it earlier today.  And when Chloe finished, Sophie wanted more.  And when Chloe refused to continue, Sophie pitched a fit.  Chloe was not amused.  Needless to say, her father and I were not particularly sympathetic to our oldest daughter’s plight.  In fact, we couldn’t stop laughing.  What goes around comes around, my dear Chloe.  Ha. Ha. Ha.

When I told Chloe about the situation, her immediate reaction was to get paper and markers, and make Nanny a get well card. Sophie, of course, followed suit.  I warned Chloe that Nanny might not have a chance to see the cards, but we mailed them anyway.

Chloe expressed hope that Nanny would leave her something in her will (thanks to Nancy Drew for raising my seven-year old’s awareness of testamentary inheritance), since no one has ever left her anything in a will before…

I spoke to Nanny on the phone yesterday, and she could barely talk.  She was trying to eat but was very uncomfortable.  I told her how much I loved her, and that the girls made her cards.  She told me what a wonderful granddaughter I’d been over the years, and it felt like we were saying our goodbyes.  

After Sophie and I returned from Florida in September, I had a feeling that our visit with Nanny would be our last.  There was something poignant about the energy she mustered during that long weekend – and I sensed that she was using all of her reserves to spend as much time as possible with Sophie.  I think that for those three days, Sophie took Nanny’s mind off her ailments, and helped delay the inevitable. 

She’s being moved into hospice this evening, and they’re going to stop her regular medications.  She’s still eating and drinking a little, but her body is shutting down.  My aunt and uncle are with her now, and I’m glad for that.  

We love you, Nanny, with all of our hearts.

She struck this flirty little pose just for us.  And she was so very proud of her new look.  Chloe, the makeover artist, was proud of her handiwork, too.

Sophie loves pink (despite my best efforts to promote other colors), loves dolls – including Barbie (makes me want to puke), loves to wear dresses and jewelry (and gaudy jewelry at that)…and has boing-boing curly hair.  Needless to say, with every passing day, my suspicions grow that there was a mix-up at the hospital after she was born.  

If there was a mix-up, however, that’s ok.  Because Sophie is the cutest thing since Chloe.  She’s a keeper.

YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok – a few more words.  I am excited beyond measure.  To be able to tell Chloe this morning that we elected the country’s first African-American president – wow.  Obama brought people of all stripes together yesterday.  It was amazing. When I think of the hope that I suddenly have for the future – despite the wars and despite the economy – it gives me goose bumps.  

The Obama presidency opens the door to dreams of all kinds – truly nothing is out of a young child’s reach, if he or she aims high and works hard, and never gives up.  

Over the last four years, my use of the refrain “Only in America” was limited to bemoaning President Bush’s and his cronies’ stupidity.  I can now return to using that phrase as one of optimism and hope and wonder.  

I can’t wait until Tuesday night.  If I were the praying type, I’d be praying obsessively for an Obama victory.  Instead, I’m obsessively following the news on the Internet, scouring the pages for any and all signs of a Democratic victory.

Although I am confident, I’m also very nervous.  It would be heartbreaking if McCain and Palin won – he’s too unpredictable and hot-headed, and she’s plain dumb, and it would be shameful for her to become vice president, let alone the first woman vice president.  I mean, did you hear the recording of her speaking to the fake French president Sarkozy?  I don’t know what’s worse – the fact that her handlers are idiots who didn’t screen the call, or Palin, for being so gullible that she had a seven-minute conversation with the impostor (we learned from the prank that she doesn’t know who the prime minister of Canada is – which is extremely grave, considering she can also see Canada from her window).  

The next years are about my children’s future.  If all goes well, Chloe will be a sophomore in high school and Sophie fifth grader, when Obama leaves office.  When I think about the opportunity the next eight years present – I would be crushed if they were squandered by a man who doesn’t even know how many homes he and his wife own, and his sidekick, who thinks that as VP she’ll be in charge of the U.S. Senate.  

Here are a couple of photos taken at a local farm today – where the girls had fun among the animals, the bales of hay and the rotting corn maze.

Happy November 1.

Cleopatra and Minnie House hauled it in big time today – the candy you see in the photo represents only half of their loot.  I think families were feeling overly generous this year – with the economy in the pits, everyone needs some extra sweetness in their lives…now we have enough to last until next Halloween, if not until the 2012 elections…

This was, of course, Chloe’s idea the other night.  The girls piled up on my husband’s butt with gusto. And Sophie jumped onto Chloe’s butt with glee.

Tomorrow is Halloween – the first Halloween that Sophie is excited about because she finally knows what it is.  She can’t wait to put on her Minnie Mouse costume tomorrow.  And get lots of candy.  I’m not sure how we’re going to control the sugar booty this year.  Sophie is too smart for us to surreptitiously go through her bag, hide the bulk of the sweets and give her the remainder.

I hope the girls bring home some good loot tomorrow.  I love Halloween candy, and I’m glad I have two girls who will happily, if unwittingly, collect a whole bunch of it for us (let’s face it, they’re ignorant of the fact that if they don’t voluntarily give some to us, we’ll steal it from them while they’re sleeping).