Slug, slug, slug!

Sofia chose a book from the library called, "Ant, Ant, Ant, an Insect Chant!"  It is verse composed entirely of insect names, and the first page ends with "...slug, slug, slug."  As we finished the very last page, Sofia looks at me with confusion and says, "but Mama, slugs aren't insects."  Huh.  You're right.  It had completely escaped my notice, but apparently bothered her the entire book long.  At the end, the author tells a little about each insect mentioned, and apparently there is a group of caterpillars called Slug Caterpillars.
She's been so good lately.  Much more patient, with less outbursts and fits.  She's a good helper, loves to play with her sister, follows directions, and has been losing the attitude.  Even through the Sofia, Sofia, Miss Contrary (not the same ring as Mary, but it still fit), life has been great with her.  It's been so nice.  Right now, however, she sitting on the stairs trying to scream me into doing it her way.  It isn't going to work, sweetie.

Sisterly Love

My girls adore each other.  It warms my heart every time I see them together.  It started with Sofia's adoration for her baby sister while I was still pregnant, and continued every minute since Amalia's been born.  Sure, Sofia is jealous, but I bear the brunt of that, while Amalia gets bombarded with hugs and kisses and peekaboos.

Last night, after their bath, both girls were sitting with their daddy on the couch.  Amalia just started busting a gut at her sister, which caused Sofia to start giggling, which kept Amalia giggling...

When Sofia gets off the bus after school, she's tired.  She's grouchy, hungry, and just wants to be hugged by Mama for awhile.  Today, Amalia was with my mom while Sofia and I cuddled.  After about 10 minutes, Amalia started to cry.  Sofia went over to give her a hug, and Amalia stopped crying, smiled, cooed, and reached out to hug her sister.  She started giggling and talking.  She wanted Sofia to come give her attention!  So darn precious.

I just want to remember these moments and that the girls do actually love each other as they grow.  I am such a blessed Mama.

Christmas Time!

Merry Christmas, Happy Solstice, Happy Chanukah, and an early Happy New Year!  We are having a great holiday season, though Julio has spent most of it being sick.  He's been able to enjoy December despite the illness, however, and the girls have brought the magic of the season to all of us.

We started our celebrating in Minneapolis, visiting Padrino Gerardo and Alissa, where we made hallacas and visited Santa.

Christmas Eve was spent preparing for Christmas.  We made cranberry salad, a holiday cake, rolls, cinnamon buns, and a refrigerated egg bake for the next morning.  Grandma made traditional oyster stew, and Grandma, Sarah, the girls, and I went to church.

We all sat in front to sing in the choir, which Grandma now directs and which was greatly depleted due to Christmas travel.  Sofia and Amalia did wonderfully.  Sofia enjoyed the children's sermon and put a baby Jesus in the manger in the nativity scene with the rest of the kids. Amalia seemed to enjoy the singing, and after nursing, fell asleep for most of the service, waking up at the very end when we all had candles.  Sofia even got her own this year!  Singing Silent Night in a dark church holding a candle is simply my favorite time.
We let the girls open one present before bed (bribery), and Sofia chose their presents from Sarah, which had been sitting under the tree all week torturing her.  ("Mom, we can call Aunt Sarah and say thank you and then open the presents!")  Sarah made them both beautiful knitted dolls!  Sofia wants to name them both Strawberry Shortcake.

After presents, we all got ready for bed, though Mom didn't get to go to sleep.  Someone has to prepare for Christmas!  Sofia set out cookies for Santa and wrote him a note.  Amalia was fussing, and I laid her on Sofia's bed while we got Sofie's jambes on.  Sofia went to snuggle her for a minute, and pretty soon, both girls were giggling.  Amalia sure loves her big sister, and Sofia sure loves her little sister.

It's getting late, and I'm getting tired.  Christmas stories to come tomorrow!

ARGH!

I am at my wit's end.  I've been doing so well lately.  I've been patient.  I've been empathetic.  I've tried to let the consequences do the teaching.  It has been working.  Until tonight.

Anybody want a slightly-used, quite cute but rather whiny and oft sassy four-year-old?

Actually, anybody want a tired, slightly tubby, impatient, overwhelmed at times thirty-year-old?

I blew a fuse at Sofia.  Her very best friends in the world are visiting (hi jay and ella!) and naturally, all the contents of her room is residing on the floor.  Getting close to bedtime, I advise Sofia that if she wants her friends to sleep on the floor with her, there needs to be space for them, so they should pick up the toys.  Now, I know it can be overwhelming to pick up a crazy-mess of toys.  (apparently, it isn't so overwhelming to put them there in the first place)  Fine.  I know it is easier with a grown-up helping direct traffic.  But Amalia needed nursing, and I expected her to at least try.  No.  She ran around screeching.  She played piano.  She had a tea party.  She didn't put one thing away.  Not one thing.  I came in the room, set Amalia on the bed, and tried to help direct her.  Nothing.  No response.  She cuddled Amalia on the bed instead.  I said, that's fine.  I'll pick them up.  But when Mama picks them up she takes them away.  I started to pick them up, putting them in the laundry room.  Still nothing.  Not picking up.  And not only not picking up, pointedly smothering her sister, to where I now have to remove the baby.  Am livid.  I ask her, one more time, to help pick up.  "No, I'm not going to."

AHHHHHHHHHRHGGHGHAGGHHH!!!

Mr. Young informs me that she does, indeed, possess the skills to pick up her toys.  She does it every day without complaint at school.  Not only did I yell, quite loudly and definitely out of control (which I hate doing), I now have a laundry room full of toys.  I can't quite make myself donate the toys to GoodWill.  They are expensive, dammit!  I need to do laundry tomorrow.  Now what?
I'm still so pissed. Breathe.
I wish I hadn't yelled at her.  That isn't productive and overshadows her own behavior.  The real answer is to actually get rid of the toys.  I can't, though.  It's too harsh.  Gah.

Seriously, Mr. Hyde?  I want Dr. Jekyll back.

Laugh on!

Okay, I know I've been all Amalia all the time, but - we have our first laughs over here!  I so wish I had a video, but at least Sofia and Julio and I were all able to witness it together.  I was holding her, Julio tickled under her chin, and she laughed!  Ahahahaha!  I can't resist trying to sneak those giggles out of her all the time, now.
And speaking of laughing...know who laughs all the time?  You guessed it...Sofia!  She keeps us laughing, as well.  When she isn't busy making us want to pull our hair out and cry, that is.

Happy Birthday, Princess!

Sofia turned four yesterday.  How did that happen?  Wasn't she just born?  She has been extraordinarily excited about her birthday for months, and yesterday was no disappointment.  She woke up at 6 am, and asked her usual morning question, "Is it 7 o'clock yet?"  I answered that no, it wasn't, go back to bed.  "But Mommy, today's my birfday, vemember?!"  Yes, of course I remember, but Go. Back. To. Sleep.
At 7:15, her curly head got out of bed and found the balloons we had waiting for her.  She squealed with excitement.  She gave kisses, hugs, thanked us for saying happy birthday to her.  She ran around the house shrieking with joy and saying "Happy Birthday to me!"  We frosted her cupcakes and prepared for her party.  The friends arrived at 10 am, and they had a marvelous time playing bubbles, running around in the gorgeous day, and playing in her room.  Sofia was just so excited.  We had lunch (though I don't think any of the girls ate much), cupcakes (of which the kids just licked off the frosting), and sang happy birthday.  Sofia wore her birthday crown, which she insisted upon, and looked ever the princess.  Then, finally, she was allowed to open her presents.  From us, she got a big-girl bicycle, which she adores.  She still hasn't quite figured out how to make it go on the gravel, but she's outside with her daddy right now practicing.  She also got a princess helmet and bell to go with it, and she's certain that the helmet helps her ride better and will keep her from falling.  She had quite the birthday.  I was even able to convince her to take a much-needed nap with me for a couple hours in the afternoon.  Grandma got home from work in the afternoon, and we had yet another plate of cupcakes complete with candle-blowing and singing, where she got to open the present from Grandma and Grandpa.  She was so excited.  Her unbridled joy was such a fun thing to experience.
Sofia is quite the four-year old.  She is starting to figure out reading, and absolutely loves to read stories.  She can write her name now, and is practicing the other letters.  She creates fanciful games to play, and narrates to herself what she is doing at all times.  It is hysterical.  She loves playing babies and doll house and reading stories to herself.  She loves helping in the garden, which requires some patience, but Sofia claims herself to be an excellent corn husker and tomato picker, so it is worth it.  She loves playing with her friends, though she doesn't get to do it as often as she should.  Jay and Ella still reign supreme in her heart.
We're going through changes.  She's about to start 4K, and she's really nervous.  She says she doesn't want to go, that she wants to go to her old preschool.  I'm trying to tell her how much fun she'll have, but she'll have to see for herself.  She is very excited to be a big sister, and is constantly hugging and kissing my belly, and loves to look at the baby's clothes and toys and even mundane things like diaper cream.  Because of these changes, however (and lord, how I hope it is because of the changes), Sofia has been whiny.  And whinier.  And manipulating of Mommy.  She wants to control what I do and when I do it.  Sometimes I wonder if she even has a voice that doesn't whine.  You know that nursery rhyme?  "There once was a girl who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead.  And when she was good she was very, very good, and when she was bad she was horrid."  That describes Sofia perfectly.  Except that the good times can make me forget the bad ones instantly.

I love you, precious girl.  You are going to be a fantastic big sister, but you'll always be my baby.  Forever.  Happy 4th birthday, sweetheart.

36 Weeks

I can't believe we are almost at the end.  This little girl has grown so much, and firmly implanted her soul into our little family.  Some days it seems that we just found out she was coming a few days ago; other days it seems that I have been pregnant forever and that she's never going to be born.
Yesterday was the latter kind of day.  It has been hot.  Very hot.  And humid.  Very humid.  We're talking real temperatures up to 100 degrees with 80% humidity.  Sadly, I'm not exaggerating.  Yesterday wasn't quite that hot, but it did reach 90 and the humidity topped off at about 77%.  Not comfortable, especially when pregnant.  I can't really bend over, I'm getting a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions, and I'm hormonally cranky.  I apologized to Sofia many times yesterday for being so crabby, but I couldn't seem to shake it.  I couldn't get myself to do anything.  Literally, anything.  I didn't do dishes, I didn't start laundry.  I didn't do homework, I didn't vacuum.  I did do the chores, but only because I had to and Julio was at work.  I didn't even cook.  We had Sunday night popcorn on Saturday, because that was ambitious as I could get myself.  The baby felt like she weighed a million pounds.  It was one of those days.
Today dawned a tad less humid, a tad less hot, and a lot kinder on my moods.  My belly feels lighter, as does my head.  I actually laughed today.  Today I feel that another six weeks of being pregnant won't kill me, and if this baby does decide to go over her due date it won't be the worst thing.  Because really, who wants to cuddle a newborn in this heat in a house with no air conditioning?  Tomorrow, of course, I'll be wishing on my lucky stars that she'll be one of those amazing babies that comes at 37 weeks in a labor that only lasts a few hours.
I'm not sure what it is, but this baby really likes my right side.  Funnily enough, so did Sofia.  Today, I felt the baby mostly on the left side, and it kind of weirded me out.  What is she doing over there?  :)  I feel hiccups at least once a day; the other day, we even got to see the hiccups.  She's no longer kicking so much as rolling and repositioning.  When she does kick, however, it isn't aimed toward the outside.  It is aimed toward my bladder and other vital organs on the inside.  Good news, that probably means she isn't posterior, right?
Sofia is going to be an incredible big sister.  She gives the baby belly hugs and kisses, and tells me how I am going to have two girls, and they'll both always be my babies.  She wanted to get on my lap, and I told her that soon, after the baby is born, she can cuddle on my lap again.  "But Mommy, the baby will have to nurse!"  I reassured her that the baby will not be nursing ALL the time, and that Daddy can hold the baby and I can hold her sometimes.  "Okay.  But then the baby will need to nurse again, and you can hold the baby and Daddy can hold me."
She can crack me up.  There is a memory-type game featuring the characters of the Arthur book series that she loves, and is forever trying to get people to play with her.  One day, Sarah was in the livingroom, and sad-sounding classical music was on the radio.  "Sarah, why are you sad?"  Sarah told her she wasn't sad.  "Oh, but the music is sad.  I know what will cheer you up; we should play the Arthur game!"  Little manipulator.
We had a baby shower the other day - the women at Julio's work got together to throw him a surprise baby shower.  It was the sweetest thing.  There was a potluck lunch with all the residents, and everyone was incredibly generous and loving.  We got a bunch of really great gifts, including a baby comforter made by the residents.  I absolutely love it.  Sofia was enthralled by the whole thing, oohing and ahhing over every present.  She was so proud to help Daddy open them, and genuinely excited about each tiny baby thing.  She even received a present; bubbles and some great bubble blowers and sidewalk chalk!  Julio often tries to bring her to visit the residents, but she is so shy, she mostly hides her head on Daddy's shoulder or behind my legs.  Friday, however, she warmed up after 20 minutes or so, and showed them all her great personality.
We went to Hartman Creek State Park beach afterwards, where we played in the water, which felt great on my heavy belly.  Sofia was very excited to use her new bubbles.  She also discovered that her life jacket will hold her upright in the water, and loved swimming by herself.  I hope it helps her gain more confidence in the water.
So, little lady, this whole family is so ready to meet you.  I can't believe you are almost here, and that soon, I'll be kissing your head, holding you close, and loving you completely.  I can't wait.

Gaining weeks

Well, our wee chickadee has been very busy!  After the last ultrasound, I expected it to measure just past 8 weeks.  Well, the tech surprised us, measuring it at 9.  Then, I got a call from the doctor, saying it actually measured 9 weeks 5 days, moving our due date up to August 19!  That was a week and a half ago, so we are now 11 weeks along, and looking forward to an actual OB visit!  I have an intake appointment on Tuesday, and will beg for a quick doppler listen.  Hearing that amazing flutter will help me immensely.

Along with my elation, I am terrified.  We willingly are creating another human being?  To be responsible for?  What were we thinking?  It's hard to imagine how Chickadee will affect our family dynamic, how Sofia will react, if I'll be able to find the time to give them both the attention they deserve.  I know people do it every day, but that doesn't make me any less nervous.  As a second child myself, I really want to make sure that this little one gets the same love and devotion Sofia did (and does).  I want to make sure to take just as many pictures, write down just as many details, remember just as many dates, actually fill out a second baby book.  I'm so excited for our family, but so anxious at the same time.

She Makes me Smile

Just a quick entry so that I remember this moment...

Sofia has on a pink, sparkly tutu on top of her pink cargo pants, and a green owl shirt.  Tucked inside the top of the tutu is a cloth Dora doll.  Sofia is jumping around the living room, and I just heard her say, "the mama kangaroo is Sofia, and the baby kangaroo is Dora."

Man, she makes me smile.

Pink

Though I have always loved dolls of all sorts, I am in no way a girly-girl.  Most days, I hardly put on anything nicer than yoga pants and a t-shirt, and it is a fancy occasion indeed when I wear make-up.  When I found out we were having a girl, I almost didn't to tell people until after she was born so that she wouldn't end up clothed in pure pink.  I wanted to be entirely gender neutral, empower my daughter to choose her own path, as well as allow my (hypothetical) son to choose his as well.
Newborn Sofia wore lots of colors.  Honest.  Mostly pink.  In varying shades.
Since she could first reach her arms out to choose a toy, Sofia has loved baby dolls.  She couldn't yet stand on her own two feet, but she was rocking and nursing and wrapping in a blanket her baby.
She also loves to play with trains, cars, and dinosaurs.
We live on a farm.  She's seen life from beginning to end, played in her share of dirt, planted, weeded and harvested a garden.
Yet, you can't change biology and social constructs that easily.  She received a pink tutu for her birthday after having to pry one off of her at a toy store.  She has visited Daddy at work, gone to the library, the bank, and the grocery store in that tutu.  She'd wear it to bed if we let her.  I can only coax her out of it if I have her Princess jammies in hand.
We went to the zoo the other day.  We had a great time.  We saw a lion roar, watched a giraffe run up close and personal, counted ducks and waved at a swimming river otter.  She found the camouflaged mountain lion, watched the snow monkeys and climbed on the jungle gym.  At the zoo gift shop on the way out, she found the toy she just had to have, and has been bringing it everywhere with her since.
Meet Sally the Sea Otter.

In technicolor.

The worst part is, I think she's kinda cute.

Three

Somehow, some way, my beautiful baby celebrated her third birthday.

I can hardly believe that the baby I cradled and nursed is now a preschool aged child, no longer a toddler, with a personality all her own.  She's THREE, people.  I mean, I have memories from when I was three.  I'd better watch what I say from now on.

Dear Sofia, 

You delight me.  It is such fun to watch you create stories with your dolls and toys, and make everything into a game.  You create elaborate rules to games that you invent, then expect us to know them all.  You adore painting and choose your colors quite carefully.  You get so excited about things that you literally jump up and down with joy, and cannot control the volume of your voice.  The joy and excitement just spills from your little body.  I love every minute of it.  

You frustrate me.  You have a whine that knows the exact way to get under my skin.   You have to be reminded, sometimes, to use your manners, and to ask without whining.  You pitch a fit when you don't get your own way, putting on a big show, with big, fat crocodile tears, and the most inventive fake cry I've ever heard, even though you know very well it won't get you your way.  

You fill my heart with love.  Your hugs are so tight, your kisses so precious.  You have the most beautiful smile that reaches all the way to your eyes, though you only use it when truly happy, which might be the best part of all (though it makes it difficult to get a picture of).  You are quite picky about who you show that love to and when, which, though disappointing sometimes for an aunt or grandparent, or even parent when a kiss is withheld, is actually a good thing.  I'll be grateful for it when you are sixteen.  

You continue to change and grow so much.  Things you loved last summer (the swing) scare you now.  You are very cautious about new things, new places, new people.  You hide behind my legs and pretend not to hear when a stranger (which may actually be a relative) says hello.  Sometimes, you will even tell them, "I'm a little shy."  Once you warm up, though, you are friends forever.  You create games with certain people, that you expect to be played the same way, over and over again.  Aunt Nancy has a tail, Tia Juli and Tia Jeli smell Stella's diaper, Aunt Sarah has a jungle under the afghan in her room, and you chase Grandpa.

You are so smart.  You know all your abc's, including the sound for each letter, and can tell us what letter nearly any word starts with.  You can count to twenty (and are starting to be able to do the twenties, too) in English and Spanish.  You know about camouflage and hibernation and metamorphosis.  You love to watch, observe and learn.  

You love to dress up, choosing to wear dresses nearly every day, and recently, your ballerina tutu that you got for your birthday.  Always.  You still prefer to be naked, however, and will strip down whenever we aren't looking.

You are a fantastic eater.  You love veggies and healthy foods.  Once, you had a brownie in your hand, and saw that I was processing broccoli.  You dropped the brownie, and begged me for a piece of raw broccoli.  Anytime, dear.  Though, I don't think the situation would be the same had you been eating ice cream.  Peppers, tomatoes, and olives are your favorites, though you love it all.  

You love playing with other kids.  Even though you are shy, painfully so, with adults, you are instantly friends with any child you meet.  In Venezuela, you hung tightly to Natasha and Nathalia, and loved playing with the cousins your age.  You love Jay and Ella, and are always looking for a playmate. I promise we'll get you into school soon.  You need other kids your own age.

You love Sesame Street and Dora.  You play out elaborate schemes of shows you've seen or books you've heard. Speaking of books, they are your favorite.  You would read stories all day if an adult would sit with you that long.  You love the Berenstain Bears, and have really gotten into any book by Mo Willems, including Knuffle Bunny.

You bring us so much joy, Sofia Carmen.  Thanks for a terrific three years.  Each day is precious, and I'm so honored to be your mama. Truly.  Even the days I want to send you to the moon.  

Love,

Mama

Return of the Sun

Well, the sun has made its reappearance, and we couldn't be happier.  Julio and I snuck out with Sofia to the lake this morning, said hello to a family of geese and went down the slide more times than I can count.
We do have a little diva in the making, which I am trying so hard to nip in the bud.  She is constantly bossing everybody around.  Close the windows. I want Mommy to drive.  I don't want you to wear your glasses.  No, that's my mommy.
Life isn't all about you, little chick.  I know we've made it seem that way since the minute you were born, because we do love you more than life itself and would actually do anything for you and want to give you every single thing you want.  Really, we do.  Thing is, though, that not everybody else does.  People are going to tell you no.  You will be rejected, probably teased, and stepped on a little bit.  You are going to have rainy days when you wanted sun.  Things just don't always go your way.  And while I want you to fight for what is right and stand up for yourself, there are times you are just going to have to go with the flow.  And like the waterfall that you couldn't turn off because it was too loud, you cannot control where that flow flows.  Life's wild like that.  Unfortunately, it isn't all about you.

How Appropriate

Sofia has been owning the potty.  She is able to tell us for both number one and number two, and the only accidents we've had lately came during naptime and timeout (cue the mommy-guilt on that one).  We're still rewarding every success (with m&m's - food as reward, I know...I know...), and she has decided that she gets "two of them" every time.  I oblige, every time, and every time (seriously EVERY TIME) she selects one yellow one and one brown one.  How fitting, love.  Number one and number two.  Perfect.

Just Keep Swimming

Life just keeps blowing past at tornado speed, and I'm just not sure how we got here.

Sofia is still plugging away at the true test of big-girl-ness, and doing very well.  She hasn't yet won her big present, but is managing to stay dry most of the time, and has, on occasion, remembered to put number two where it belongs.  Still working on that, but we are so proud of her!  She's pretty proud of herself, too.  Walk into our bathroom and see the jar of M&M's; you'll know we have a toddler in the house.

Speaking of the toddler, she really isn't much of a toddler anymore.  She's all big girl.  She talks in full sentences with correct grammar, with only some mistakes.  She still calls it "sesareet", macamoni and cheese, and doesn't quite understand the difference between he and she.  However, she can recognize most letters and numbers, and surprised me the other day by saying, "p, p, p, p, Polar starts with P!"  She counts in both languages (though fourteen is still her nemesis), and is really improving at putting together puzzles. She used to get so frustrated when she couldn't get it right the first time, but she really concentrates to figure it out now.  She has an imagination that doesn't quit.  I love her stories and silly games and watching her play with her stuffed animals and dolls in all sorts of ways.  She sleeps with a menagerie, complete with bear, puppy, pink blanket, deer, and 'sesareet' which includes each of Big Bird, Elmo, Abby, Cookie Monster, Grover, and Kermit.  She loves the toddler doll she got for Christmas, which she has dubbed Tigger.  She plays catch, and sometimes actually catches the ball!  She loves to run run run everywhere.  She's quite the kid.

Sarah, Sofia and I went to DC this past week during a snowstorm (seriously, they have more snow than we do-by a lot!) to meet baby Anika and spend time with Johanna.  My niece is so precious; we all adore her.  Sofia especially.  She held her and caressed her and talked to her and loved on her.  Truly heart-melting.

Life at the paper is...well...I'm looking into school.  I'm tired of the drama, tired of the poor management, tired of constantly being blamed.  She really thinks I should be able to do all the reporting in just a few hours, and should be able to finish the paper all by myself.  Mondays have been long lately (though not 2 or 3 am, which is wonderful), but she leaves almost two hours before I get to.  Then, if there is a mistake (which there invariably is because I've been there for 16 hours), I get blamed for it.  Completely frustrating.

School, however, remains an abstract.  There are waiting lists on waiting lists, and I am ineligible for financial aid for an ADN (associates degree in nursing) since I already have a bachelor's degree.  I'm considering Physician's Assistant school, but there doesn't appear to be a program within an hour and a half from home.

I'm just ready for spring.  Everything feels better when there is sunshine and green grass outside.  

Success?

Not about what you might think, but we may have a new development over here...potty training success!  Now, lest I proclaim "Mission Accomplished" while the troops are still in battle, it does appear that we are headed in that direction.  We made it all day with only one accident (the number two kind, of course), and potty success at every attempt.  Without tears!  Much better than my near-tearful confession yesterday morning as a wet-panted girl waltzes into the livingroom not two minutes after we came off the potty because "i can't do it!" that THIS. IS. NOT. GOING. WELL.  We should quit.  Bah.
Never mind that we are still in the bare-bottomed stage, which means she cannot miss that she is peeing, with no diaper or training panty to lessen the drench.  We may have a wrench thrown into our success as she goes back to daycare.  But!  We are committed!  And the most exciting part, Sofia is committed, too.  I thought it was a one-way street, but it appears that my big girl is officially putting on her big girl panties.  Pun intended, of course.

A New Day

Sometimes things look better in the morning.  Nothing has resolved, all the problems are still there, but I have something better. 

We had our Dia de Los Reyes celebration, and celebrate we did.  We had pan de jamon, key lime pie, and lots of laughs.  Sofia helped take down the tree, and carefully placed each ornament back in the boxes, and we talked about the story each one holds.  The Kings brought her a tricycle, which she pushes around, climbing into the seat, saying "Peeeeeeese".  We drive around the livingroom, laughing and zooming.   Sofia's baby gets a turn.

Julio and I sat on the couch, watching Sofia play.  She played with her farm, dancing the the tractor's song (don't ask).  She carefully holds her baby, rocking her and kissing her, then placing her in the cradle, covering her up, rocking her, saying "Nigh Night".  

This girl, this family.  

It's better than I could ever have imagined.  Her kisses and smiles, her laughs and giggles, each new word, each new discovery, each moment is perfect.  

We're still moving in with my parents.  Our house is still in danger of foreclosure (keep hoping for that short sale), we are still unemployed.  We're formulating a plan, that I'm hoping with all my might comes to fruition and makes us  better off in the long run.  

No matter what happens, though, as long as we have each other, we'll be okay.  

That's my girl.

We went to a party last night, just Sofie and me.  We had wine and orange juice for the under 3 set.  We talked to adults and a certain someone charmed the pants off of every woman there.  And we had chocolate.  Oh, yes.  Sofia can not get enough of the chocolate.  She knows exactly what a candy wrapper looks like, and even ventured into the arms of Unknown Man (aka Uncle Bob) to get her hands on some M&Ms.  

That's my girl.

It is good to get out of the house once in awhile and just pretend that everything is okay.  It is hard work remembering all the bad luck and crap all the time, holding it up and clutching desperately at straws to hold it all together before it all hits a fan and is scattered.  Setting that load down is hard to do, but essential for sanity.  That's what last night's party was supposed to be.  And for the most part, it was.  I laughed and smiled and chatted.  However, small talk with people you don't see all that often inevitably starts with this question:  How are you?  Usually, that's not a big deal, not a tough question to answer.  And I could just lie.  Say we're fine, thanks so much, and how are you?  But I'm not a good liar, even little white-conversation-saver lies.  My eyes tear up and I muster a "We're okay" response and then look away quickly.

With any amount of luck and a lot of hard work, we'll be okay.  Someday, I won't feel like I'm drowning, that water is closing in on me from every direction and I don't have any idea which way up is, and even if I knew that, I couldn't find the shore to get out of this danger anyway.  I'll have my life in control and I'll feel just happy.  Someday.  

But not today.  Today, I have to seek out those moments.  Those times when I can just sip wine and set down the burdens of the day.  Times when M&Ms are the only thing that I need to smile.  

October 31

Holy Shit. Tomorrow is November.

November is the month I don't have a job.

Wait, scratch that. I DO have a job. Just not a paycheck.

I have a job being a mom. I have a job searching for a job (which is a full-time job in itself, and if I say job one more time in this sentence job I get a cookie JOB. Yay. I win)

I go from being all non-chalant and things will work out and this too shall pass and life is an adventure to ohmygodinheaven, I have a baby and no insurance and no way to pay mortgage and we're in an economic crisis in this country and no one will ever hire me and even if they do and they hire my husband too how the hell will we afford daycare and mortgage all at the same time on two little measly incomes?

Yes, all of that.

I had a dream last night that made me tired. I don't remember all of it, but I specifically remember searching for a pair of shoes that I knew were here somewhere and I NEEDED but could not find. I remember crossing a street a lot. I remember being nervous.
So, I woke up nervous and tired and feeling like I already had a full day, how is it possibly time to wake up yet?

Not only is this the last day before November (holy shit holy shit holy shit), it is Halloween. I have the cutest little mouse waiting for me at home. She'll have whiskers and a tail and a cute little button black nose.

Not only is this the last day before November (holy shit holy shit holy shit) and not only is it Halloween, it is our good friend's birthday. So, we have a sitter, and we're all dressing up as Andy. I've got my fabulous scarf and polo shirt all ready to go.

November is coming, ready or not, but I've got the good life, yes I do.

Heavenly Sleep

Remember all the DRAMA! HALP! posts regarding my daughter's sleep patterns?

Houston, we've had problems, but we're ready for take-off anyway.

We're all sleeping. At least 8 hours. In a row. Usually, anyway. (i won't go into the gas-induced-scream-fest that was tuesday night. that just bums me out).

An earlier bedtime, one nap a day and a refusal to nurse at night have made us all better sleepers. I know things change and I'm not claiming victory yet, but actually waking up in the morning and having to PEE is a welcome feeling.

(because, you know, i wasn't awake three times during the night with my daughter, giving me an excuse to pee and then waking up, groggily, in the morning and making it through my second cup of coffee before realizing I haven't peed yet, good god.)

Speaking of coffee, must refill my cup. Afternoon hath arrived.

A Girl and a Dog

When do kids stop being infants and start being toddlers?  

Around the time they start getting their naughty streak, I'd guess.   Sofia is now all toddler.

Polar is a very tolerant dog.  He tolerates when she sits on him, he tolerates when she pulls his tail.  He tolerates her getting much more attention than he gets.  He tolerates his bathroom breaks being less urgent than her diaper changes and getting chastised when he takes food from her.  

Only Li'l Miss has picked up on that last one.  Oh, yes she has.

Sofia has been found out.  Today, she got a string cheese.  Marched off eating it as always.  She came to us fussing and pointing at Polar.  We sent him to his bed and gave her more cheese.  She went to the livingroom, and I followed.  I witnessed her go to Polar's bed, put the cheese in his mouth, then turn around and sob.

Little Stinker.