Winter Fun

Winter? We heart you. Or, more accurately, my girls heart you. They have been lovin' the cold lately. We went to the mall to have their pictures taken, and all they wanted to do was run around outside and see whose face could get the most red. (Sophie won, by a mile.) Then we got hit with our first big snow of the season, and they partook of much snow-related fun with their Daddy and Paw Paw.

This morning, we noticed someone had tipped over our bizarre looking beautiful snowman during the night. He looks pretty pathetic lying face-first in the snow. Yet even this failed to deflate the girls' winter high. Emma shrugged it off, pretending that the snowman was "snow swimming." Sophie just rolled her eyes and declared, "I bet a boy did it."

 

Sophie-isms and Moments From The Week

Lately, Sophie's developed a habit of closing every door in the apartment behind her "so that any bugs don't get in." Then she slowly re-opens it, looks at the floor, and screams, "The bugs are coming! The bugs are coming! RUUUUUUNNNNNN!"

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After helping Sophie pat herself dry in the bathroom, she told me her "bagino" was all clean. 

"Um...I think you mean 'vagina,' sweetheart," I corrected gently. 

"NO!" Sophie screamed in my face. "It is MY bagino, and I can call it whatever I want!" 

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Sophie woke up talking about birds in her hands and explained that a nice fox slept in bed with her and we must save him from the mean witch. We grabbed the (pretend) birds, the (pretend) fox, detangling spray, toothpaste, Kandoo, Dora doll, Charleete, the TV remote, a button that fell off our couch pillow, and a Polly Pocket, and we hid from the witch under the dining room table. Sophie kept looking at me in panic, putting her finger over her mouth and whispering, "Ssshh." Suddenly, she scooted from under the table and told me it was safe to come out.

"Guess what, Ma-ma! The mean witch went to jail and she get in love with the police-es man and now she is our friend!"

Did I mention this all occurred before 7am?

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After raising her voice to me, I informed Sophie that I didn't like to be spoken to that way. 

"But it's not fair!" she cried. 

"What's not fair? Do you even know what that means?" I asked. 

"Yes. It means Emma will hit me."

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Sophie told me that her Barbie went poop and she needed a wipe to clean her up. Reluctantly, I gave her one. After a few minutes, I discovered her cleansing Barbie's nether regions and making a diaper for her out of Kleenex.

"Mommy, I need another wipe! Barbie's got diaper-rhea!"

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"Mommy? My eye hurts."

"I'm sorry, honey. Why does it hurt?"

"Because I poked it with my finger."

"Well...maybe if you stop poking yourself in the eye, then your eye won't hurt anymore."

"Hey, that's a good idea. Thank you, Mama!"

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Soph asked me very politely if she could please watch the mean green man. I had no clue what she was talking about. After 20 minutes of grueling tears, tantrums, pleading, etc., we finally figured out that she wanted the Grinch. Two minutes later, she's walking in circles and happily shouting "Hi, Grunch! Hi!" at the TV. Meanwhile, I'm still huddled in a ball on the floor, completely spent from all the turmoil caused by one little weird-named Dr. Seuss dude. 

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While waiting in line to pay for our groceries, Sophie started dancing her heart out in the middle of the store. She was laughing and shouting, "I really love to dance dance dance dance..." at the top of her lungs. A woman running (yes, full-on running, for whatever reason) down the aisle sorta tripped over Sophie. She turned to me and instructed me through gritted teeth to "please control my child." For the first time ever in my life, I had the perfect reply: "Actually? I'm gonna join her." And I did. In my purple sweatpants and crazy bedhead, I stepped out of line and started jumping up and down with Sophie. The look on the woman's face was priceless. She was not pleased...in fact, she swore at me as she stormed away. I just smiled, waved, and shouted, "You have a great day, too!" I started giggling, which started Sophie giggling. I'm sure we looked like total fools, but dancing with my daughter - and for one sweet moment, not giving a rip what anyone thought of either of us - was soooooo AWESOME. Who knew being called a crazy bitch could make a person's day?

Mermaids, Witches, Tigers, Dragons...and some Apples

Here are some titles of recurring pretend games the girls have created: Mojo Jojo, Don't You Don't, The Mermaid and the Witch, The Lion vs. The Tornado, Tigers, and Princess Warriors. They all seem to involve some variation of Emma being a mean villain and Sophie trying to get away from her. (Sense a pattern, anyone?) These games have a tendency to get violent. Quickly. So much so, in fact, that we've had to create an actual safe word. Sophie has been instructed to shout "Apple!" whenever she wants the game to stop. Like, for example, if Emma is dangling Soph upside down or sitting on her head or wrestling her into a half-nelson and Sophie's subsequent sobs of terror are not enough to signal to Emma that, yes, she is actually harming her sister and needs to cease and desist immediately, then the safe word is employed. Sophie often needs reminded of the new safety procedure, so whenever I hear her screeches of protest I start screaming, "Use the safe word, Sophie! Use the safe word!" (This always leaves me feeling rather dirty, like I'm preparing my children for a different use of "safe word" later in life...but then I throw up a little in my mouth, empty my brain, and refuse to follow this line of thinking any further.) I'd say since the institution of Operation: Apple, Sophie has uttered the safe word approximately 25 times. Emma? Yeah...not once.

The other day I caught the kids on video while in the midst of negotiating the never-ending terms of one of their games. (This was pre-safe word; hence, the video's ending.) It is so fascinating to me, watching their dynamic. Emma can be domineering, no doubt - but she also has moments of really trying to be patient, which just makes me wanna eat her up with a spoon. And I especially love hearing Sophie speak up for herself, even with her limited vocabulary. Yes, she allows herself to be manipulated by Emma, but only to a degree. Much like Chris and me, actually. It's Emma's world; we just live in it. For now, anyway. I suspect our youngest is gonna eventually challenge Queen Em for the throne. And when that day comes, I just hope I'm able to take cover before the explosion hits.

Reflections on a week of Bleggh

This has been a rather disappointing week. I've been sick, so that sucks. I've not accomplished practically anything I set out to do, so that sucks. I've felt (and am still feeling) sluggish and unmotivated and generally sorta crappy, so that...well, you get the point.

Due to all of the above...and because sometimes I am just plain lazy ("Sometimes?" I can hear my husband saying in my head), I haven't been recording the wonderful and inexplicable doings of my two smallest roommates as much as I usually do. I guess in the future if they ask about this particular week of their lives, I'll just tell them they slept a lot. (Yeah. I wish.)

Here are the snippets my befuddled mind managed to retain from the week:

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Trying to help Emma wash her face in the bath, I get some (tear-free) soap in her eye.
"STOP IT! You are giving me a disease!" she shrieks.
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Sophie and Emma are fighting about...something.
Sophie: "No, I not!"
Emma: "Yes, you are!"
Rinse. Repeat.
Finally, Emma enunciates in a low, deliberate growl: "Y. E. S. Space. Y. O. U. Space. A. R. E."
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Mid-tantrum, Sophie throws a spoon across the room. It crashes against the wall before clanging loudly to the floor. Complete silence ensues. I stare at Sophie. Sophie stares at me. We wait each other out, engaged in the mother of all staring contests.
In my most serious voice, I finally ask, "Now, what do you say?"
She narrows her eyes, points to the spoon, and says, "Get it."
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I ask Emma if she is excited to start ballet lessons.
"I guess. I mean, I already KNOW how to be a ballerina. But I guess I can help the other kids."
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While waiting to pay for our groceries, Sophie suddenly declares, "Mommy, you a witch."
The store clerk and I share a god-she-is-so-damn-CUTE smile.
"Oooh, that sounds fun," I play along. "I can cackle and do magic and say 'Abra-cadabra.' But why is Mommy a witch?"
"Because. Your hair is really crazy," Sophie answers. "And also, you mean."

Wisdom Just Drips From My Mouth

A few of my favorite sayings/exchanges from the weekend...

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Emma: "Mommy's good at tickling, Daddy's good at drawing, and I'm the best bubble letterer."
Chris: "Sophie, what are you good at?"
Sophie: "Birds."
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Em: "Violet sits at my table. She took the other kid's spot who transformed to another school."
Me: "You mean transferred."
Em: "Nooooo, I mean transformed."
Me: "'Transformed' means to turn into something new."
Em: "Right. That's what I'm saying! She turned into a kid that goes to a different school."
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Em: "Daddy, you are the weirdest kid in this family."
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Chris: "Em, I'm not going to wrestle with you anymore if you don't stop tooting."
Emma: "It's not my fault! I can't hold in my toots like my pee and poop. It makes no sense!"
[Loud toot, followed by mad giggling.]
Emma: "Oops Daddy. Sorry. I farted in your face again."
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Soph: "Tickle my pieces. TICKLE MY PIECES!"
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Soph: [Screaming-Tantrum-Screaming-Tantrum-Screaming-Tantrum]
Em: "Sophie, pipe down. It's not like somebody is stabbing you or something."
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Me: "Isn't it a beautiful fall day?"
Em: "Yes. I hope I don't die today. I love life."
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Me: "I guess it's warmer out than I thought."
Em: "I told you. I knew what the weather was outside because I can see the future."
Me: "Really? You can see the future, huh?"
Em: "Ugh. I knew you were going to say that."
Me: "Ha ha, very funny."
Em: "What the heck are you talking about?"
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Em: "You are more wrong than the trees in India!"
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Em: "If I had $100, I would buy all the Fun Dip packages in all the world."
Soph: "If I had $5, you know what I like? Candy. With mermaid tails on it."

Out of the mouths of babes...

• Me: "Girls, quit playing the dead game." Em: "We aren't dead. We are just hurt really bad and our eyes won't open because we fell from a roller coaster 130 feet tall and broked our bodies. But we aren't dead."

• Soph: "Mommy, look at the birds in the sky. They are playing Follow The Leader!"

• Em: "Now that my teeth are falling out, I'm practically a teenager."

• Soph: "Mama, you are my friend, and Millie is my friend, and Emma is my friend, and Callie is my friend." Me: "What about Daddy?" Soph: "Daddy is my father." Me: "Well...fathers can be friends, too." Soph: "No. That's gross!"

• Em: "Grandma, did you know that if you take off your underwear anywhere in the wide world, your vagina will explode?"

• Me: "Sophie, are you a big girl? Do you pee and poop in the potty?" Soph: "Yes, I do! Whenever I feel like it."

• Em: "Mommy, what am I whistling?" [Cue crazy-screechy-whistle sound.] Me: "I don't know." Em: "Mom. Pay attention." [Cue crazy-screechy-whistle sound.] Me: "I have no idea." Em: "Ugh! Mama. Just listen." [Cue crazy-screechy-whistle sound.] Me: "I don't know, Emma. Goodness. Just tell me what it is already." Em: "WHOO-HOO! I am whistling WHOO-HOO!" Me: "Wow. You didn't have to scream it in my face." Em: "Yes, I did. Clearly."

• Soph: "Mama, can you hold my tiara? I hafta pee."

• Em: "我饿了, 我要牛肉. That means 'I am hungry and I want beef' in Chinese."

• Soph: "Look at my belly, Mama. It is so big! Touch it."  

• Em: "Sophie isn't ready to go to school yet." Me: "Why?" Em [in a whisper, with hand cupping her mouth]: "Because she'll be loud and crazy on the bus and she won't know where to sit or how to put on her seat belt and she'll do somersaults on the ground when the bus is moving and cry that she misses you and fart in her pants and it will embarrass me."

• Soph & Em: "We looooooove dressing up like princesses!"

Potty Training: Progress Report 4

My daughter confounds me.

Since my last progress report, we've taken a total break from potty training. Sophie is back in pull ups, and she hasn't gone near the toilet in weeks. Suddenly, out of nowhere, she announces Thursday afternoon that she feels like she has to go. We go in and sit...AND SHE PEES IN THE TOILET. I'm not talking a few dribbles here either, but an actual stream of urine, people. Not only that, but she does so with the ease of a seasoned pro. She sits there, peeing away, with a huge smile on her face and knowing gleam in her eyes that says, "No big deal. I was ALWAYS capable of this, you idiots."

I thought it was a fluke. Then yesterday, she does it two more times. She even pees for SPECTATORS, inviting my friend Genevieve to come in and watch her do her stuff. She's actually showing off how good she is at this!What the what? I don't get it, but I'm not gonna question it. I'm only praying that it lasts. No pressure. She is still in pull ups. We aren't asking her if she has to go or forcing her to sit on the toilet in timed intervals or any of that junk. This time, everything is super casual. Sophie is clearly running the show here, which apparently was what she wanted all along. I am just following her lead. Who knows if this streak will continue, but right now a very proud and happy toddler resides in our house. (Oh - and one confused but VERY relieved mother.)

My kids

Let's face it: my kids are rather odd.

Exhibit A:
Sophie started the day happy as a clam - chatting away, giggling, being silly. Suddenly, she stopped mid-conversation and declared, "I'm having a bad day." It was 6:45am. Then she threw herself face down on the floor and lay prone like this:

Why, you ask? I have no idea. That's just how my kid rolls. 

Exhibit B:

About 30 seconds after the face-down-on-floor-bad-day incident, Sophie stood up and announced she wanted to talk with the camera. Here is our conversation - nothing earth shattering, just typical Sophie cuteness:

Exhibit C:
Later, Emma and Sophie had themselves a little clown party in the living room. My favorite part of the video is when Sophie inexplicably stops to hold her butt...and then starts dancing again. Do you see what I am dealing with, people?!?

These are three relatively mild examples of what passes for normal around here. I accept that my attempts at control are merely an illusion. I'm just the mommy pinball, bouncing from one weird thing to the next, trying to keep up.

Autumn: A Photo Essay

Sunday was family day in the Mathews household, and we decided to autumn it up at the Nature Center's Harvest Festival. Except for the fact that it was 80 degrees outside, it was a perfect fall day. (Sidebar: GLOBAL WARMING IS NOT A MYTH.) First, we stopped at the pond to visit the geese.

Can you believe places like this exist in the city? And only a couple miles from our place too. Beautiful.

Don't you love their little matching potbellies?

Next, we wandered through various booths before hitting the scarecrow-making area.

Sophie got into the whole scarecrow thing right away.

Emma wasn't lovin' the hay at first.

But soon, she jumped right in. Yay! Hay pile!

And eventually, with a lot of help from Daddy...ta da! Our very odd-looking scarecrow.

Finally, we headed back home for some old-fashioned pumpkin carving. Chris was so excited to share this project with the girls. He had his professional carving instruments at the ready and found the perfect jack-o-lantern face on the internet. But our little princesses didn't react exactly as he had hoped.

At first, they were intrigued...

...but after a close-up view of pumpkin guts, they were done.

Poor Chris. His dreams of Daddy-daughters pumpkin bonding evaporated into thin air. He persevered and finished the project alone while the girls cowered on the couch and watched him warily. And the final product? Pretty freakin' cool.

Seriously...shouldn't Chris be a professional? I wish our camera could have caught how cool it looks with the flashing bulb inside, but sadly, technology failed me. Or else I just don't know how to work my camera. Nah...I blame technology.

Later that evening, I almost tripped over this adorable sight.

Sophie's baby Jill and Emma's Baby Doll, snuggling side by side.

I don't know which girl took such loving care of their babies, but it could have been either one. They both dote on them. Somehow I've ended up raising major girly-girls...leery of dirty, slimy things like hay and gourd guts, but apparently awesome mommies-in-the-making. Not sure how this happened, but I do know one thing - my women studies professor from college would be so appalled.

Sophie on a Thursday

• Finds a tampon in my gym bag and claims it as her own, calling it her vampire. (A simple mispronunciation, or is she unconsciously confusing one bloodsucker with another? Hoo-AH!) "It so pretty! It has stripes!" (The packaging has stripes. I knew what you were thinking. Sickos.) Periodically (Ba-DUM-bum) hides the tampon behind her back and announces, "I got a surprise for you, Mama!" Whips her hands in front of her with a flourish. "Ta-DA! A vampire for you to love!"
  
• When I tell her I Tivo'd "Backyardigans" for her, she throws her arms in the air and yelps, "Yay! I so proud of you, Mama!"
• Asks to go to the pool. I explain the pool is closed until next summer. Scrunches her face up and glares at me. "I ask Grandma to take me! Grandma LOVES me!"
• Story game...Me: "And then the bear did a happy dance and...what happened next?" Sophie: "And then the bees flied all around his nose and the bear died. The bees died him. The end." Second attempt...Me: "So the bear tiptoed into the house to take a nap and...what happened next?" Sophie: "And the bees grabbed the bear's arm and that not nice! And the bear died. The end." Third attempt...Me: "The beautiful butterfly flew high above the clouds with the fairies and...what happened next?" Sophie: "The bear died like this [lies flat on back on floor] and he died [pointing] here and here and here and here and here and allllllllllllll over the floor and the bees said 'Yay!' The end."
• Gets frustrated helping with laundry because I give her too many clothes to carry at a time. "Mama, you are getting me nuts," she mutters.
• Sophie: "Mama, I went poop." Me: "Uggh. Okay. Just...next time, will you please tell me before you go poop so we can sit on the potty? Please please please with sugar on top?" Sophie: "Sugar on top...of my bottom?"
  
• Declares me a better singer than Tasha the hippopotamus on "Backyardigans." I open my mouth to thank her when she adds, "And you look like her, Ma-ma! Mama, you a pretty hippo!"
• Refuses to put on shirt because the tag itches. Insists on wearing bathing suit under it before leaving the house. "You are just doing this because Emma does," I accuse. "Yep," she confirms.
• Sophie: "Mama, I peed on the floor." Me: "Uggh. Sophie! You're killing me!" Sophie: "I no killing you, Mama. Don't say that! That not nice." Bursts into tears.
  
• Lights up when I explain that our street is filled with forklifts dumping huge pounds of dirt into holes because they are planting trees and flowers. "That's a GREAT idea!" she says. Shouts out the window at the construction workers, "Good job, con-cussins! Good job, dirt! The flowers will look so bee-autiful!"
  
• Grabs my arm at 10:05am and says, "I ready for night-night." We read a book, sing a song, turn out the lights. I put her in the crib and am just closing the door when she shouts, "I all done!" I turn and ask, "Seriously? You're kidding me, right?" Oblivious to my sarcasm, she grins and gushes, "I no kidding, Ma-ma. Mama, I had a good nap."
  
• Screams following phrases from bedroom to avoid napping (successfully, I grudgingly add): "I just need to whisper you somefing, Mama." "Ma-ma, I want another story!" "Maaaaa-ma...what happen next, Ma-ma?! What. happen. NEXT?" "Mommy! It 9 of the clock, time to wake up now!" "Mommy, my butt hurts. You need to kiss it, Mama!"
  
• Keeps asking if we can go to the cube-li-esque store. All day long: "Mama, when we going to the cube-li-esque store?" Finally dawns on me about 4 o'clock that she means the UPS store.

Dude. Your head is HUGE.

Emma has recently started carrying a notebook and pen everywhere she goes. She draws and writes in it. She is prone to whipping the notebook out at any given moment and mumbling things like "that's a good idea for a song" or "oooh...I want to draw that." It's all very artsy and deep...and, of course, very cute.

Yesterday, she drew the members of our family.
Doesn't everyone look lovely? Sure, our toothpick legs seem ready to buckle under the strain of carrying around heads large enough to be spotted from outer space, but we are still a good-looking bunch. Emma did explain that she gave Sophie and me long hair because she doesn't know how to do short hair. Although...that sure looks like short hair I see in Chris's picture. But hey - who am I to question an artist's process? At least we look happy, with beautific smiles pasted on all our faces. Oh yeah. Excuse me. What I meant was...on all our faces except MINE. Yep, my pic looks like I just sat on an upended nail and can't decide if I liked it or not. Emma told me she drew my "surprised face" because that's how I always look. What the what? Seriously? I always look like I'm high? I always look like I'm hypnotized? I always look like I can't take my eyes off the crossbeams emanating from the mother ship?

Weird, to think this is how she sees me. I was actually fired from a job once because they said I didn't smile enough. Guess I need to get happier, stat. Or at least my face does.

Potty Training: Progress Report 3

Sophie has managed to acquire eight stickers on her potty chart this week. She even earned her first special treat - a Snow White Polly Pocket Play Set. Yay!
However, in the interest of full disclosure, I feel compelled to add that at least three of those stickers were gained by less than a handful of pitiful little urine drops that just happened to fall into the toilet. And yes, while there have been celebratory moments this week, Sophie has also peed on the floor of just about every room in our apartment, as well as all over Aunt Jayme's shoes, our couch, the living room rug, and an innocent baby doll's head. In addition, there have been countless instances of poop-in-the-panties, and a few hours ago I stepped on a huge wet steaming glob of Sophie poo on the bathroom floor...IN MY BARE FEET.

At this point, I would say failures are outweighing successes, but I vow to stay strong. Um...well, later. Yeah. That's right. LATER, I will stay strong. Right now, I just have to say: I. HATE. POTTY. TRAINING. It SUCKS, it is DISGUSTING, and I don't understand why there aren't any professionals out there that I can hire to do it FOR me. I mean, I'm talking about a niche market in a crappy economy that is just WAITING to be exploited, so why isn't anyone out there DOING it?! Doesn't anyone get how many desperate parents there are in this world who would meet any price? Plus, we are all stupid enough to KEEP REPRODUCING, which means a neverending stream of customers! Hello...is anyone LISTENING? There are people out there willing to wade through garbage and plunge toilets for a living. There is even an outfit in this city that you can pay to get rid of your kid's head lice! Yet no one will take on my two-year-old? I would give ANY AMOUNT OF MONEY. I would rob a bank, I don't CARE, just somebody else do it for me please please please please please, for the love of god PLEASE!

O-kay. Deeeeeeeeep breath. In, and out. IN. And. OUT. Good. All right. Glad I got that off my chest. I actually feel a little bit - TINY bit - better.

In times like these, I find it prudent to remind myself of the many things I do adore about my child...my lovely, adorable, obstinate, willful, nonstop-peeing-and-pooping child. Hence, this video:

Potty Training: Progress Report 2

Call the media, people. Sophie took her first dump on the potty today!

WARNING: If you are uncomfortable with poop talk, then this is the wrong blog for you, my friend. Take your delicate constitution and leave immediately, never to return.

Potty Training: A Progress Report

Apparently, the toilet is continuing to do REALLY well at potty training. Look at all the stickers it has acquired! (Yes, I know...I was quite surprised at it's progress too.)

Exhibit A:

And Sophie? Um...well, let's just say she has a ways to go.

Exhibit B:

TGIF

Ah, Friday. Professional development for the teachers, so no school. A full day of just me and the girls.

We started off the day at the gym, of course. (I will go hungry before voluntarily consuming almost anything healthy, yet I am religious about my workouts. Go figure, huh?) The weather was nasty this morning - dark clouds, gusty winds, sporadic rain. Emma feared a tornado was on the way. I assured her it was highly unlikely, but she wanted to know exactly what would happen if one was spotted. After walking her through the safety procedures for a tornado, we entered the gym. Like always, the front desk employee greeted us with a smile and a friendly hello. Emma immediately demanded, "Do you have a basement in here? Because a tornado is coming." After multiple reassurances that we were not, in fact, psychic meteorologists and the building did not need to be put on tornado alert, I dropped the kids at the nursery and hit my spin class. The next hour passed by in a sweaty haze of me failing to get my RPMs up to 128 (128! What do I look like, The Terminator?) while the girls built playdoh castles. No sirens, no tornadoes, all safe.

Then we were off to feed our friends' cat Marge. Hmmm. Cats. Cats, cats, cats. [Sigh.] I don't know...I just don't get them. It literally took me 20 minutes to get inside the apartment because the lock loves messing with me, and poor Marge was meowing behind the door like a madman the entire time. Yet the minute we stepped inside, Marge played all cool and wanted nothing to do with us. Sophie just wanted to pet and kiss and snuggle and squeeze and LOVE that cat, and you'd think after being alone for five days that the cat would want at least a tiny bit of affection...but, you'd think wrong. Marge just stared at me, stoically enduring Sophie's ministrations, willing me with his eyes to FEED HIM. NOW. (Btw, I'm not confusing my pronouns. Marge is indeed a boy.) As soon as I put food on the plate, we were all promptly dismissed. I tried to brush his fur, but he gave me such a scathing "Are you kidding me?" look that I immediately stopped. Sophie was determined to get that cat to love her, but after a couple of unmistakable "back OFF" feline hisses, I pried Sophie away. We hung out a few minutes to see if Marge might feel more social after eating, but with a flick of his tail he jumped on the couch and proceeded to bare his teeth whenever we approached. So, as Sophie wailed "Why da kitty not like me Mama? WHYYYYYYYY?", we skedaddled out the back door.

Next we hit the grocery to stock up on a few provisions. We only needed three things, so I decided to skip the cart and let the girls walk with me. BIG mistake. "Dancing Queen" was playing over the loudspeaker, and the girls took the song to heart, boogieing up and down the aisles. They were clearly having fun, which was fun to for me to watch. But the people they kept running into didn't seem to be having quite as much fun as we were. One lady curled up her lip and practically hissed at me, "Please control your children." She reminded me quite a lot of Marge, actually. We only had one item at that point, but I figured that was our cue to leave.

Once home, we had lunch and watched Cinderella. The girls only engaged in six fights, with less than half ending in tears. Honestly? That's a successful couple of hours in our house. The girls love the part of the movie when the fairy godmother sings "Bibbity Bobbity Boo." They danced all over the living room. Also, Sophie is obsessed with the stepsisters' mean cat. Even though the cat is clearly evil, every time he appears on the screen she coos, "Aw, he cute. Cute kitty!" As the end credits rolled, the girls erupted in applause. (Princesses are VERY big around here.)

Next: Naptime. Emma crashed with me, Sophie in her room. I had a hard time getting Sophie to settle down because she kept asking me when we were going back to visit the cat. (If you are into drinking games, I suggest you take a shot every time the word "cat" appears in this blog post. And then don't drive. Because you are now very drunk.) Emma rarely naps anymore, but sometimes she likes to snuggle and sleep with Chris or me. She wrapped her hands around my arm and drooled on my shoulder, just like she used to do as a baby. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

We didn't wake up until almost 4 o'clock. Oh, Glorious Nap, how I worship you! Both girls were clingy and disoriented from so much sleep, so the three of us burrowed into the couch together and watched Powerpuff Girls until Daddy came home.

We didn't go to the zoo or the museum or the nature center - all ideas I had tossed around as a means of filling the day. I got exactly nothing accomplished around the house and my to-do list remains untouched. But after lunch, Emma climbed onto my lap and said, "Mama, I love spending time with you at home. I miss you when I'm at school." That, to me, is a successful day. Just a regular, run-of-the-mill Friday with my beauties.

Ignore Meen Peeps

One of Emma's current vocabulary words is IGNORE, and her teacher sent home some work that Em did in school yesterday. (Click on the pic to see it more clearly.)
When I read the worksheet all the way through, I laughed out loud. I think my favorite part is the teacher's "Unique!" sticker. Then I asked Emma as casually as possible, "Hey, honey? Are you having any problems with Ani at school?" She shrugged and answered, "No. I just ignore her."

I think Emma has the definition of this particular vocabulary word down.

Sophie on a Monday

• Feeling lazy, I ask Sophie if she minds skipping the gym today. Her eyes light up. "We skipping to the gym today, Mama? Yes!" And off she goes.
• Finds Emma's gum on the dining room table and carries pieces around like babies all day, counting them ("Mama! I got 5 gum babies now!") and putting them down for naps. At one point I overhear her say, "You good babies. When I bigger, I EAT you!"
• Watches a "Zaboomafoo" episode about pets, and every time a kitten comes on the screen she screams, "Hi, Oz! Mama, it Oz! Why he not say hi to me?" [Sidebar: Oz is Aunt Jayme's cat.]
• Points to the words HAPPY MEAL written on the box of her, um...happy meal. "Look what it says, Mommy! D. I. E. S. Dat spells Sophie!" [Sidebar: Yeah, my almost-three-year-old doesn't know her letters yet. Hey, we can't all be prodigies.]
• Casually mentions she put a sticker on the potty while whipping past me with her stroller. Curious, I go in the bathroom to check it out. Indeed, she is telling the truth (see pic). When I ask why, she says, "Potty is a big girl now!" [Sidebar: Yeah, my almost-three-year-old isn't potty trained yet. Hey, we can't all be prodigies.]

• Brings me a tangled cluster of wooden chairs and Barbie dolls and asks, "Mommy, can you help me carry these? They are not coperlating wif me."
• Clenches her fists and shouts, "Emma! Stop! You make-a me MAAAAAAAD! Like thunder!"
• Randomly announces, "Mommy? You are my Mommy. And Daddy...Daddy is my friend."
• Asks for more cheese. "Just a minute," I reply. "I. Want. More. CHEESE!" Sophie screams. "Sophie! I said just a minute please," I say. "No!" Sophie declares. "You did NOT say please. And now you make me YELL AT YOU!"
• Insists on giving kisses on various body parts instead of the traditional lip location. Kissed Emma goodnight on her hip; my goodnight kiss landed somewhere near my collarbone. Before her nap today, she asked if she could kiss my butt. [Sidebar: Regular readers, you know what kind of mom I am. Do you think I conceded to her request? I'll let you decide.]
  

Hello, First Grade

Goodbye, summer.

Labor Day is behind us, and the school year has begun. With one week under her belt, Emma is now a seasoned veteran of first grade.
Emma was pretty nervous about having a new teacher and not knowing who would be in her class, but she adjusted quickly. By the end of the first day, she was a pro. In fact, Emma was put in a time out for backtalking after getting home from school. Furious, Em reared back her head and shouted at me, "You can't stop me from expressing myself! It's my right as a first grader of this country!"

Sophie on a Thursday

• Wakes up talking about how the rat chases Thumbelina and eats her shoe. Then she points over my shoulder and says "There is the rat, right there!" and almost gives Mommy a heart attack before explaining, "Don't be scared, Mama. I just pretending."
  
• Runs up to me screaming, "Mommy look, Mommy look!" Then she jumps in the air, lands hard on her bottom, giggles, and shrieks, "I breaked my butt!"
• Soph: "Let's put money in this little piggy." Me: "I don't have any money, do you have any money?" Soph: "Yes, I do. In my little pocket." She reaches down into the pull up she's wearing and pulls out a goldfish cracker. (Why is there a goldfish cracker in her pull up? I don't know.) Me: "What are you gonna buy with that?" Soph: "Two money dollars and three bunny dollars. And another goldfish."
• Points at a woman in Costco and screams, "She's got a butt!" The woman (who did indeed have a rather ample derriere) clearly hears and doesn't look too happy. Trying to cover, I say loudly, "Oh Sophie, you are so silly. We ALL have butts, remember?" Sophie replies, "Yes, we do. Mama has butts, and Daddy has butts. And that lady has very very BIG butts!"
• Throws a tantrum for twenty minutes because I won't let her play with the stapler.
• Soph: "Hello, Miss Man." Me: "Miss Man? Why are you calling me Miss Man?" Soph: "Because. You are Superman."
• Asks at the grocery store, "Mama, can we get cheese from deli?" "No honey," I answer, "we don't need anything from the deli today, so we can't get our free slice of cheese." Sophie replies, "That no make sense, Mommy. Yes we do need somefing from the deli. I need cheese."
• Gets in a fight with her car seat because the straps are twisted. I fix the straps and Sophie rewards me with a big smile and says, "Mama, you so smart. Come here for big wet kisses!"
  
• Soph: "Hey! You like stickers like my Emma!" Girl in nursery: "Who Emma?" Soph: "Emma my sister. She loves me."
  
• Carries a koosh ball, a plastic cockroach, a polly pocket, the bathroom soap dispenser, one Strawberry Shortcake shoe and a packet of gum around the house in her stroller, calling them her babies.
• Soph: "Listen. I want to tell you somefing." Me: "Okay." Soph (whispering in ear): "I love you and love you and love you and love you and love you." Me (whispering back): "I know." Soph: "How you know? I just told you!"
  

Hide and Seek

Sophie loves playing hide and seek, but she hasn't yet gotten her head around some of the subtler nuances of the game. Like the part about hiding. And seeking. Therefore, she makes up her own versions.

Version #1:
She hides while I count, and when I say "Ready or not, here I come!" she starts yelling "Come find me! I in da closet, come find me!" and doesn't stop until the sound of her voice leads me directly to her secret location.

Version #2:
She "hides" right in front of me (ie, under a pillow or blanket or sometimes just by covering her eyes) and then commands, "Go find me! Look in da closet, and under da table, and then find me here and say 'Surprise!'"

We played both versions today. During version #1, I followed her voice and discovered this.
Then we played version #2, where I "found" her in this spot over and over and over again. For me, the repetition is torturous. By about the fourth go-around, I'm ready to wave the white flag. For her, the routine never gets old. Case in point: here's a pic of her after being discovered in the exact same spot, the exact same way, for the tenth time.
While the game drives me crazy, at least there's a substantial reward. I mean, seriously. Just look at that smile.