Chloe was proud, too.  She enjoyed teaching Sophie this morning.  The problem was that after those 3 As, Sophie had had enough.  Wasn’t interested in the B or C.  She just wanted the stickers that Chloe had promised her if she wrote her letters.

Chloe took it all in stride – I was afraid she’d lose patience with her little sister’s lack of stick-to-itiveness.  But we’ll get there.  I’m liking the potential here, I must say.  Who needs to pay for preschool when you have a big sister like Chloe?

This photo was taken almost two years ago – during Christmas in Paris. Sophie was still a baby – barely one year old, barely walking, and barely curly.

Chloe was missing some teeth.  She still makes silly faces, though.

This photo was taken during our first full day in France – Maxime was at lunch with some former colleagues, and I decided it was high time to introduce the girls to cafe life.  

Chloe and Sophie were, of course, the only children in the cafe.  The waitress was nice – although she and the bartender kept glancing over to make sure the girls weren’t doing anything they weren’t supposed to be doing.  At one point, Sophie was wielding a fork.  That made the adults a bit nervous.  And Sophie made a mess of those chips.

Chloe then had the opportunity to discover the bathroom – down a set of spiral stairs.  It was very tiny, of course, with a light that turned off automatically after a couple of minutes.  I always wondered about those lights – who in the hell determined how long it should take the average person to pee?  What if the average person needs to do more than pee?  Having to relieve oneself in an unlit bathroom is no fun, if you ask me.  Anyway, I digress.  Chloe was less impressed with the bathroom light than she was with the spiral stairs.  

And forget about changing a baby’s diaper in French restrooms – the bathrooms don’t come equipped with a changing table (except if you’re at DisneyLand Paris).  They’re barely big enough for an adult, let alone an extra piece of equipment.  I recall changing Sophie’s diapers on floors, or while she was in her stroller – even though it was December and freezing cold outside.

Time flies – we don’t yet know when we’re going to return to France, but I hope it will be sometime in the next year or two.   Last time, Chloe repeatedly said she felt “squished” because the buildings were relatively small and the streets narrow.  I wonder if she’ll feel even more squished the next time around – she’ll be bigger than she was in 2006 – and therefore take up more three-dimensional space… 

As the little one in the house, Sophie often needs to fight a little harder than the rest of us to make herself heard.  On a good day, she’s the only one talking, and there’s no problem.  But most of the time, she’s eclipsed by Chloe, and sometimes her mommy and daddy.

A couple of months ago, I noticed that she was starting to use a new tactic to get our attention.  Her new ploy was stunning in its simplicity.  

Whenever she senses that we aren’t listening to her, she exclaims, “Mommy, talk to me!” or “Papa, talk to me!”  If we do not respond to her fast enough, she exclaims, “Mommy, talk to me!” or “Papa, talk to me!”  She doesn’t whine in saying those four magical words; she’s actually very matter-of-fact and calm about the whole thing.

By calling us out on our inattentiveness (whether legitimate or perceived), Sophie basically succeeds in refocusing her parents on her.   She has pretty incredible antennae for a three-year old – and refuses to be ignored.  She’s a firecracker, our little Sophie – and she keeps us our toes.

After making fantastic progress – she’s at the penultimate level in the YMCA’s program – she experienced a somewhat disheartening session these past few weeks.  A class with lots of kids, all of whom stronger and bigger than her, and a revolving door of instructors.

She didn’t like the fact that “she had no one to talk to”  in class and that she was the smallest. When I tried to explain to her that the fact that she was the youngest was a good thing because it meant that she was a great swimmer for her age, she shrugged it off.  The rationalizing didn’t impress her one bit, no matter how true.

We don’t want to force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do – because I am still hopeful that after a break, she’ll want to get back to it.  We’re thinking of giving her a few private lessons when she’s ready, to build up her confidence and her strength.  I’ve really enjoyed watching her swim every week, but it’s not a good sign when the parent is enjoying it more than the child.  

I took lots of breaks from activities when I was a kid – and most of the time, I never went back to the activities I had started.  I flittered and fluttered about, from Brownies to soccer to piano lessons to gymnastics to tennis, and god knows what else – I have a vague souvenir of taking clarinet lessons at some point, but maybe I’m just making up that memory.  I was as fickle as could be.  So who am I to begrudge my dear Chloe a break?

 

Happy anniversary Pink Me Not!  One year ago today I debuted this blog – and 325 blog posts later, it’s still going strong.  

One year of tirelessly chronicling the adventures and antics of Chloe and Sophie – lots of stories, lots of joy and lots of laughs.  

If I’m being honest, I can’t believe I’ve kept it up this long.  But I’ve come to depend on writing these entries – they’re my therapy in a way – allowing me to take a step back from the vagaries of life and work, and enjoy the fact that my husband and I are raising two beautiful girls – who make us happy and proud (at least most of the time).

It’s certainly been an interesting year – between my time off from work, my new job, the elections, the economic meltdown…never a dull moment.  But there’s always been a constant – no matter how bad the day, no matter how hectic our lives, we can count on Chloe and Sophie to make us smile.   

Which makes everything else worthwhile.

Chloe is going to be starring in her school play tomorrow – as Dorothy in “The Wizard of Oz.”  She is going to play one of several Dorothys, as each class has a Dorothy for one act.  

Chloe’s Dorothy is the one who gets to click her red heels while repeating “There’s no place like home.”  Can’t wait to see her perform – I’m sure she’ll be the best Dorothy of them all.

I will report back tomorrow, of course – with at least a photo or two.  I’m going to miss these plays – this is her last year at her current school, and I don’t know if the 3rd-5th grade school also puts on plays.  I’m getting nostalgic already – time is going by too fast, and before you know it, we’ll be ringing in 2009, we’ll have a new President (Go Obama Go!) and then Chloe and Sophie will be teenagers, and then off to college, and maybe marriage and grandkids…

I’m getting ahead of myself. One day at a time.  Tomorrow is “Over the Rainbow” day.  I will enjoy it while it lasts.

Sophie’s been happy lately.  Actually, she’s almost always happy.  Even though she now has a 3-year old personality, which lends itself to short-lived temper tantrums and a tongue that frequently sticks out.  

And yet – she’s almost always smiling.  And singing and frolicking and dancing and jumping.  It’s pretty extraordinary.  And when I think about it further, when she does get it upset, it is sometimes because of something Chloe did, or didn’t do, or something she perceived her big sister to have done. 

That’s not to say that Chloe is entirely at fault – as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, Sophie does have a talent for baiting her sister into doing dumb things that get her into trouble.  

Sophie also gets upset when we say ‘no’ to her, as most toddlers are wont to do.  But her displeasure doesn’t last.  She’s usually back to her smiling self within minutes.  Talking about being resilient…and happy…

I’m not sure where she gets it from. It’s not that we’re not happy, but Chloe, Papa and I are fairly intense and serious people.  She got the clown qualities from a mysterious recessed gene pool, I think.   Either that or there was a mix-up at the hospital.

Here you go.  Entered these two photos yesterday into this year’s Gap Kids model contest.  

Of course, I’ve tried this before – to no avail.  But it was easy enough to do, and I’m convinced that at least one of my beautiful girls deserves a shining moment in the spotlight.  We’ll see if the judges agree.

The odds are slim to none, I know.  But I just had to enter the contest.  Because, really, how could Chloe and Sophie not be chosen for the finals?

I’ll keep my loyal readers apprised, and will let you know once we’ve booked our tickets to San Francisco for the photo shoot. 

Remember when I wrote about Chloe and her obsession with clothes last year?  Now it’s Sophie’s turn.

She was impossible this morning and in a bad mood to begin with, because Papa tortured her when he tried to remove the knots from her hair.  After that ordeal, getting dressed should have been easy.  But it wasn’t.  I proposed several different outfits, none of which met with her approval.  

She started to get frustrated.  And she ran away, back into her room.  She was alone for awhile.  Calming down.  When Chloe and I saw her curls sticking out from behind her chair, we sat on her bed and asked each other where Sophie had gone.  This amused the little one, who couldn’t keep quiet any longer.  After a couple of minutes of our feigned “Where’s Sophie?” act, she jumped out from behind her chair and yelled, “Surprise!”  She was wearing a huge grin (not unlike the one in this photo), and a few minutes later she was finally dressed.

It was a battle, but at least it was one that ended in smiles and not in tears.