Free Concerts and Fountain Swimming

Last night you swam in a fountain.

It was not a clean fountain, and I don't really think you were supposed to be swimming in it, but it was very hot at the Kirkwood outdoor concert and you insisted. I've never really thought of myself as a pushover, but I have definitely learned to choose my battles with you. Unfortunately, Brynn and Ella had to join in the fountain, and their daddy was slightly irritated. Then other kids followed your lead, as did a giant poodle. You were immediately airlifted at that point.

On Wednesday night we went to the Botanical Garden concert with Auntie LarLar and Ms. Katie. You had a snowcone and stayed up until 10 pm. We love summer.

Four days until Mexico! I can tell you're excited because yesterday at 5 am you brought the picture of me and your daddy into bed with me. I'm suffering fairly regular anxiety attacks at the prospect of a 6 am flight and three weeks without English, but it'll all be worth it when you see your dad at the airport.

Tonight we're meeting Obama for happy hour and tomorrow we are going swimming with Jack and Allison. You still think Jack is Allie's boyfriend, not her twin, and I think we can blame that on your obsession with the Notebook.

Love you!

Beaches, Babies and Bedtime

Hi Sof! I was just thinking to myself that this must be the cutest age of all, and realized I should probably attempt to capture how much personality you have now.

Let's see... Yesterday I buckled you into your carseat and we drove about three feet before you said "Mommy, you put on your seatbelt too." You called me out, kid!

Tonight, as I was boiling your corn on the cob (your new fav), you were putting two babies (Snow White and Poppy George) to bed. I think you think all babies come in pairs, given all of our friends with twins or two-under-two. You had both of them on identical throw pillows, and had covered one with a baby blanket and the other with your orange shorts. Just like Mom -- whatever works in a pinch! I was inwardly patting myself on the back until I heard you tell Poppy George he had to go to time out. Poppy George, by the way, is really named Georgette (after Poppy George), and she was mine when I was a baby. You somehow figured out the connection to your Great-Grandpa, and adjusted accordingly.

Every time you see an airplane, you yell "Papa Skip!" It's adorable.

You have this imaginary place called Happy Land. You say it like a Chinese immigrant -- "Api Lan." I've googled it -- it doesn't appear to be from any cartoon or TV show. This morning you woke up and said "I wanna go to Happy Land." I groggily asked you where Api Lan is, and you said "New York."

I told you a couple of weeks ago that in three Tuesdays we are going to Mexico to see Daddy. About four times a day you ask me where we're going on Tursday.

The other night I tucked you in and said, quite sentimentally, "I love you, Sof." You chirped "Thanks!"

You are seriously the brightest, funniest, most adorable kid on the planet. Even when you're being a brat. :-)

We've been busy lately. We went to visit Aunt Donna and Uncle Jason last week, to go to the beach at Mark Twain Lake. It was FREEZING, and we spent most of the day watching Dora at their condo while the twins slept. Finally we got out to the beach, your first time, and you loved it! It was like your own giant, private sandbox, and before long you were flopping around in a mud puddle -- in your hoodie!

Yesterday we went to Baby Annabel's baptism party and you played with Anderson and John, and poked the adorable Annabel a couple of time. You are currently obsessed with babies, and you told me the other morning that you want a baby brother like Christina has a baby sister. I thnk you're too young for the birds and the bees conversation, but you should probably not hold your breath for a sibling any time soon. Ethiopian brother in six years!!! That's our plan.

Speaking of Christina, you two are still bff. We went swimming with her and her parents yesterday. You slipped and fell in the locker room, and then did a weird twisty thing down the slide, so I was afraid I'd ruined you for life when it comes to the pool. You bounced back though, and were kicking around on your noodle by the time we left. I, once again, was feeling quite proud until you said "Ms. Rose taught me that at her house."

You've been going to her a few hours a day the last week or so, and you love it. I might pull you out of Baptistville and just let her watch you next year. You are quite happy, and she really loves you.

As do I, baby girl.

Summer Summer Summertime

Phew! We made it through one heck of a year! You survived the uber-religious yet reasonably-priced Baptist preschool, and Mommy is already saving up for the therapy we'll have to get you when you believe dancing at prom is a sin against our Savior. Seriously - they don't dance at their prom. I told your babysitter she needs to watch Footloose, pronto.

Mommy somehow made it through the craziest year of teaching in her entire career. Hundreds of fights, multiple arrests, a shooting and a bomb threat later, we are done for the summer. We are going to Mexico in a few weeks, but until then it's just us two! Don't worry -- once we've exhausted all playdate options, we can just stand at the Tower Grove wading pool and try to fit in with the various hipsters, yuppies and general weirdos it seems to attract.

You love to sing and your current hit list includes "The Wheels on the Bus," "The Farmer in the Dell," and Dr. Dre and Eminem's "I Need a Doctor." Mommy was slightly alarmed when you started singing along in the car the other day. It might be time to start listening PG so you don't go to school talking about S & M.

Your best friend is Christina. Unfortunately for your teachers, you two are quite mischievous together. Fortunately for you, you're also adorable. We have lots of playdates with Christina and her family. Sometimes we go to the park and the geese try to bite you. Sometimes we go to restaurants and you two climb on the furniture. Sometimes we go to the Boathouse and you two come very close to an accidental dip in the lake. I assume her dad is kidding when he blames all bad behaviors on Sofia's influence...

You are a very kind little girl. When you aren't telling Mommy she's stinky or demanding milk at 3 AM, you say some pretty nice things. The other day we were coloring together and I said "Nice job, Sof!" You said "Thanks! Yours looks pretty good, too."

You are also very nice to animals (except the geese in the park), and you have great conversations with Timmy and Lucy. You also talk to your Polly Pockets and, sometimes, seemingly to yourself. Maybe we should hit the wading pool and recruit friends today, now that I think about it....

Now that it's summer, I'll update more. Promise. xoxo

Our busy busy lives in St. Louis

Dear Sofia,

You are TWO!! It happened almost three months ago (but is technically still accurate), and I'm sorry I haven't updated this before now. Things in the States have been pretty crazy since we got back. We stayed with Ama (Grandma) and Mister Day (Dave) for a few weeks until I found a job and we found our very own apartment. We looked at about a hundred (apartments, not jobs; there are no jobs) but this one was perfect. It has exposed brick and hardwood floors and I've only seen a mouse one time and it was on my birthday so I'm pretty sure it was your Papa Skip saying hello. But don't mention anything about that to Grandma, k?

You are talking up a storm now, and we can even understand most of what you're trying to say. You get really ticked off when we can't, and you just keep repeating the same thing like a Small Town American trying to communicate with a foreigner. In our defense, some of your words (coche, mas, ten, leche) are still in Spanish so the combination throws us off a bit. Right now you're obsessed with two, so you have to have two of everything. It's slightly awkward when you show up at daycare wearing two panties, two sweaters, and two pairs of pants, but it seriously works in your favor when it's time for a treat. You say "please" so sweetly that it's pretty much impossible to resist. Let's hope it doesn't lead to childhood obesity.

You can sing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," although you sort of ad lib some of the words, which is completely hereditary.

On Tuesdays, Ama picks you up from school early and takes you to her house. As far as I can tell, you spend your time there trying on her shoes, folding her dish towels, and eating all kinds of special treats that I'm not supposed to know about.

Since we've been in St. Louis, you've been to Grant's Farm, the Botanical Garden, the Zoo, the Tower Grove Farmers' Market, a pumpkin patch, and the wineries.

You love Uncle Bri Bri and Aunt Lauren, and you have a babysitter named Erin who can actually get you to stop crying in five minutes and get you to bed in ten. She's amazing.


After school each day you like to tell me who you played with. For a while there it was an alarmingly all-male cast, but since Christina started you two have been best buddies. Her mom is from India, and she just got back from a visit. I'm thinking your talks of international travel and American verses Continental have bonded you for life.

Papa came for a visit last month. After a long night of trick-or-treating, you were asleep in your stroller when he came through the gate. When he said your name, you opened your eyes but clearly thought you were dreaming. Then he picked you up and you said "Papa?" like it was a question. There wasn't a dry eye in the B gates. He carried you all over that airport like he'd never let you down. And he won't. He's a great daddy, and he's coming to see you again in three weeks. Remind me to stock up the fridge.

About that, I'm well aware of the fact that someday you're going to have all kinds of questions about why Mom and Dad don't live together. I'm hoping this happens before the premenstrual mood swings kick in, but regardless I will tell you this --- I don't think any kid on the planet has ever been more adored by so many people. Please take this piece of information and hold it tight for the rest of your life.

Your favorite things now are playing with legos in the bathtub, practicing your salsa with Papa, taking Lucy for a walk, and putting your babies to bed. Your least favorite things are washing your hair, washing your face, and putting yourself to bed. You still think crackers are cookies, which is awesome. You love to throw heavy objects at Mommy's head, which isn't. The offspring of a former Rams linebacker is in your pre-school class. I'm sure that's his fault.

Mommy's teaching high school now, and we get up super early. Sometimes you shoot out of bed babbling about playing with kids. Other times I get your dressed while you're still snoring. On bad days you throw a fit and Mommy gets to take the morning off to hang out with you. I love those days.

And I love you, pea pot.

xoxo,
Mom

Mia

Hi Sof,

You have a new buddy. Her name is Mia, and she's about six weeks old and very furry. Your dad and I got her when we had a mouse problem, not realizing that "Ralph" was probably bigger than the kitten. You were a bit jealous at first (understatement of the decade) and regularly threw things at her and squeezed her too hard. But now you wake up in the morning and, instead of "mama" or "papa," you ask for the kitty cat. You still enjoy pulling on her fur, but it's getting better.

You seem to learn something new every second. Your vocabulary now includes jugo, agua, Elmo, mio/mia/mine (hence the cat's name) and cracker. You roar like a lion upon request, and every time you see an elephant you point to your bum. We aren't sure what that's about.... Your favorite book is one about zoo animals, and you can identify most in Spanish and English. The ostrich and koala bears confuse you a little, but what 20-month-old knows what they are?! Before bed, when I tell you "One more story" you pick out the biggest book you can find. Sometimes it's Mother Goose, other times it's a photo album filled with pictures of yourself.

Organization is your dominant personality trait at the minute (if you don't count tantrums). When we get home from the grocery store and I race to the kitchen to fix your lunch (usually soup or pasta. mom's not very creative) you take all the things and lay them out on the living room floor. I'm not sure what your strategy is, exactly, but it's incredible watching your brain work. It gets tricky when you try to shuffle the eggs around, but so far we have no reported cases of salmonella.

Cosette and Monet just had Chicken Pox. Daddy thought we should expose you, but I vetoed that idea. Hopefully that doesn't come back to haunt me in a couple of months when you and I are all by ourselves in St. Louis. Grandma is very excited for us to get there, but we're going to have to see if Mommy can get a job in this crazy economy. Hopefully things will turn around before you're in the job market.

Love you, pumpkin.

Mom

Futbol, Babies, and KittyCats

Hi Sof! We have had a busy few months, and you are learning new things at the speed of light. Just last night I taught you how to shell peas, and although we won't become millionaires based on quantity, you have proven to be a pretty sharp little cookie. You love "futbol" -- we took you to the Toluca/Puebla game on Sunday and you sat there the entire first half, staring at the field and silently criticizing the players. I could see it in your eyes -- you were just dying to yell "My GRANDMOTHER kicks better than that!"

Speaking of Grandma, we went to visit her for Easter. You tormented the kitty cat and fed the dog all kinds of special treats. "Wow wow" and "Kitty Cat" were therefore your third and fourth words, roughly, and you say "Kitty Cat" like a Russian chain smoker with flem in his throat. We are quite sure you are the sole reason behind Lucy's sudden weight gain, and Grandma is still vacuuming up cheerios three weeks later.

You are a sweet child and you love to take care of your "babies." You only have one, but because of Aunt Donna's twins, you seem to think they are always called by the plural. You held them, by the way, even though Jack is almost as big as you are! The other night Daddy and I were looking for your one baby, and found her in a box with a book and a sippy cup. You also like to change her diaper and pat her on the back after "feeding" her your milk. Good thing I'm such a great mom, or your mimicking could be difficult to watch! (Thank you God, for not making baby dolls that come with corkscrews!)

We are planning to move to St. Louis in July, so that Grandma Bennett and Mister Dave and Uncle Brian and Aunt Lauren all get to spend more time with you. Mommy is kind of hoping their eagerness at your return will translate into some Saturday night babysitting so she and Aunt Donna can go play Megatouch for a couple of hours before falling asleep at 11.

You and your cousin Luna Alexa are like two peas in a pod now, and are even starting to look a little more alike! You still look exactly like your Daddy, but I'm okay with it. I know you're my kid based on your obsessions with both sports and Salsa, although you're already a much better dancer than I am. You can even do the "basico" of Salsa, at 19 months old!

You are quite the hostess, and when we have company you make sure everyone gets enough of the chips you've already licked and put back in the bowl.

Next steps: Potty-training and horseback-riding. Mommy might need to stock up on the red wine for both of these adventures!

Pinatas!

Dear Sofia,

Happy 2010! You'll be two this year. And I'll be... Well, that's not important.

You now have eight teeth, three molars, two pinatas, one earring, and approximately 48 pairs of shoes. You are the Carrie Bradshaw of toddlers. In the mornings, you like to choose your shoes for the day. Usually, they match each other; sometimes, they don't. You like to waltz around the house with a purse on your arm. You aren't a big fan of hats, but you'll wear one if it's super-cold like it was in Vermont.

We had a great time visiting Nick and Liz and Elliott for New Year's, and you thoroughly enjoyed poking baby Elliott and flirting with Toby and Rashonda. There was lots of snow, and you rode on a sled, slowly with Elliott and really fast all by yourself. You made a snow angel for Daddy, which I don't think you appreciated very much. On New Year's Eve, we both fell asleep at 10:30 so we didn't get to see the ball drop. Aunt Liz and Uncle Nick had a great time playing with you, but I think you might have made them a little nervous about all the running around they'll be doing in a year!

A week before all that happened, we had a white Christmas in St. Louis with Grandma, Poppy George, Mr. Dave, Uncle Brian, Aunt Lauren and Aunt Donna. Even though she just had surgery, Grandma made sure Santa brought you all kinds of great presents and she chased you around the house sneaking you special treats. Your first sentence might very well be "Thank you, Grandma. I won't tell Mommy."

You met the twins -- Jack and Allie -- and we even let you hold them for a little while. They are troopers, those two.

You are currently obsessed with pinatas, kitty cats, socks and shoes. You are quite cooperative when it comes to putting things away, and you love your new Legos. The Tres Reyes brought you some in Mexico, along with your very own Dora chair. You still love her, but getting you to sit down for a video is completely impossible.

All of our friends and family in the U.S. now know the words to the pinata song, because every morning you would wake up and want us to sing it. Nobody there is quite sure what "dale, dale, dale" means, but I'm sure they'll have the song stuck in their heads for years to come.

In a nutshell, you are a hilarious, personable, creative, intelligent, endearing, flirtatious little person, and I love you with all my heart.