I love hearing her talk

Well, sometimes it gets tiring because she can revert to silliness and nonsense words, but when she's coherent, she's amazing.

Two weeks ago, we went camping (in the rain), and her Aunt Kim gave Sofia and her cousin Alyssa these little animals that grow ten times their size in water. They cleaned out some soda bottles and added water and the animals, the girls were so excited, they talked about how big the animals would grow. Alyssa had a pink cat and Sofia had a yellow ducky. They started about 3/4 of an inch tall. By the time we had left the campsite 2 days later, the animals had almost doubled in size in their watery environs.

Sofia was so excited about her duck and it's growth, she wanted to bring it to Show and Tell that Friday (5 days away) to show her classmates. By Friday the duck was at the biggest I thought it could get, a full 3 inches tall with it's sides almost touching the bottle sides. It was impressive.

After school was over, we brought the bottle home, but neglected to take it out of the car. So it sat for 4 days in the hot car....I picked the bottle up from iunder the front seat where it had rolled and I swear that duck grew another inch! It easily took up half the bottle. Sofia was so excited!

This is where her logic comes in: I suggested that we should empty the bottle to see if the duck would shrink back to it's original size. She ran with that idea, "We need a plan, so this is our plan: We, I mean, I can dump the water in the sink, the baffroom sink, no! Outside on the grass! The grass needs water where daddy planted the seeds! Yeah, that's the plan! hey can I touch the duck? What does it feel like? Is it soft? Can we take it out of the bottle? Mama, can you take it out? I bet you can? Do you have a plan for taking it out?"

I told her my plan for taking it out was to let it shrink so it would fit out the mouth of the bottle. She didn't like my plan very much, but was excited to dump the water once we got home. She had to find the perfect spot to dump the water on the newly seeded lawn.

"Is it shrinking yet Mama?"
"Not yet, do you want to touch it?"

I turned the bottle upside down an let her touch the top of the duck's head.

We brought it inside so it could shrink. She kept checking it throughout the night to see if it got smaller.

Pics to come.

a really, really big shew

Just before story time tonight, I had to duck into the bathroom for a minute. "Pick out some books and I'll be right in," I said.

Well, about a minute later, I hear Sofia in her room, by herself, announcing our upcoming story time like the ringmaster at a three-ring circus:

"Ladies and Gentlemen! It's time for the story show!"

we've been everywhere, man...

It’s been a busy week for Sofia.

A week ago, we hit the road for Maine, where our friends Cora and Uri were getting married. She was excited about this trip and about the wedding -- she didn’t get to attend the last one Michelle and I went to -- and she had a great time.

The night before we stayed over at Uncle Carl's house, where Sofia joined her dad playing drums. Here's the beginner lesson...




now Sofia takes the snare and we're picking up steam. No, I don't plan to turn her into Buddy Rich ... well, not the obnoxious perfectionist part, at least.




With basic lessons over, Little Lars Jr. and I take on "Seek and Destroy" with Uncle Josh...




Is there a drum set in Sofia's future? Very possibly.

The next day we headed up to the wedding in Old Orchard BEach




As you can tell, the idea of being in a pretty dress at a big party appeals. So much for getting her to blow off the prom.

And oh yes, she enjoyed hanging out with the bride. Who felt the same way.







Cora, being the thoughtful friend that she is, ordered chicken fingers for the young’uns in attendance. And they all sequestered in their own area to eat. She liked that enough that about 20 minutes later, when I came around to ask if she wanted to join her mom and I at our table, she said “no, I’ll stay here.”

Shot down by a four-year-old!

And of course, what would a wedding be without cake (note crumbs, which were all that remained)…




And dancing!





Here's Sofia's "I'm a tired ballerina at the wedding" interpretive dance, and it's tremendous ... what an artiste!




As we packed up to head home, thunder boomed in the distance (happily the rain that had threatened all afternoon waited until after Cora’s wedding was about over).

“That’s thunder,” I said.

“That’s not good,” Sofia replied.

The next day, because a full day of driving wasn’t nearly enough, we headed off to Ocean City, Maryland, to visit our friends Beth and Don at a condo owned by one of their relatives.


On the road, we saw this….the Meow Mix Mobile. This is on the New Jersey Turnpike, somewhere between exits 10 and 7 southbound…




I saw the tail and ears coming up on the right, woke up Michelle, told her to get the camera and slowed up to get a picture. I could not make it up if I tried.

Sofia handled the driving really well ... er, she handled ME driving really well ... and we arrived after about seven hours. But there wasn’t much time for resting … not when the Ocean City boardwalk was calling!




Don told us for weeks about all the rides for the small set on the boardwalk -- rides that he had been on when he was Sofia’s age. He was not kidding about that. Among the star attractions is the 1902 Herschell-Spillman wooden roller coaster, which has been operating in the same location since it arrived from the factory in North Tonawanda.

Sofia had a blast. She rode the rides, all right -- just about every single one built for someone of her age and height. She dragged us from one to the next, eagerly sat down, smiled for the camera at each one, then repeated the process.




And there was ice cream, of course.




Somehow, she stayed awake until way past her bedtime o’clock -- like, say, 11. And still, she was ready for more the next day -- Assateague Island and its pristine beaches and wild horses. We did not come up with any close encounters with feral equines (too bad), but we did have a tremendous time on the beach.




It’s been a few days since we returned and I’m still tired. Need a vacation to recover from the vacation. More photos and stories to come…

quality time

We just came from outside where we were planting grass on some bare spots near the driveway.

Someone thought it would be funny to hit her dad with the hose ... but she didn't know daddy would get her back with the hose when she wasn't looking, either! We laughed a lot about that. She did a very good job helping me with the chores ....

Later: "Daddy, you're on my team because we both like Brak." (The Space Ghost Coast to Coast/Cartoon Planet character.) Don't ask.

Then, in the bathroom, while I was getting her bath going, she needed to use the potty, and the following ensued after she ascended the throne:

"Daddy, I love you."

"I love you too Sofia."

And then, an earnest request:

"Please, can I have some privacy?"

Which is why I'm out here typing this.

capping a perfect father's day

After the pork tenderloin and key lime pie from Trader Joe's -- the product of my latest shopping adventure there -- I did what I sometimes (and very annoyingly) do after accomplishing something good: Asked Michelle "who's the man?"

Usually she sighs and gives a resigned "you are, dear," to which I say "awwwwww yeahhhh" (like Barry and Levon from "The State") and start lifting my hands over my shoulders. (Yes, it's totally lame.)

Except this time, Sofia chimes in and very matter-of-factly says, "That's how we raise the roof."

That meal was the perfect end to a perfect day...

- Sofia woke us up at about 7:30 (relatively late for her) and wanted me to get because she wanted to play with me. It's always nice to be wanted.

- After the smoked salmon and bagels (again, trader joe's -- it's ridiculous how little they charge for their salmony treats) Sofia and I went to the Y together and had some "just you and me time" while mama snoozed (it was humid here last night and sleep was hard to come by).

- Then, after the ladies came back from shopping, Sofia insisted that we play soccer in the back yard. when that got less interesting, we ventured out front and replanted a shady swath of the front lawn where grass has not been growing of late .. and my little helper loosened up the soil, spread grass seed and watered afterwards.

- After all that, I was sitting on the steps, getting ready to light the grill, when my shadow joined me there.

"Ever get the feeling you're being followed?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"You're following me a lot today," I noted.

"I like to follow you when I love you."

good luck with the unlearning

Sofia has picked up a few things in her four years. Some of those things are catchy marketing phrases and slogans that she has seen on TV or heard on the radio ... or that she has heard her dad repeating.

In five years in Boston, I heard a lot of radio jingles -- my job required me to have news radio on all the time, and they play a lot of ads on news and talk radio in Boston. (Those of you who listen to the Red Sox radio network can attest to this -- I'm betting all of you can sing the 1-800-54-GIANT Giant Glass song. Once, at a Newport Gulls NECBL game, a foul ball hit a windshield on the street behind the stadium and I could not stop myself from belting out "WHO DO YOU CALL WHEN YOUR WINDSHIELD'S BUSTED!?!?")

Well, the apple does not fall far from the tree. Consider this example from one of my recent backyard barbecue expeditions.

One of the ads I used to hear a lot was for Tommy Floramo's in Everett, which is apparently famous for its ribs. Their phrase that pays? "The meat falls off the bone." And in one spot, an opera singer memorably warbles that phrase at the end.

I guess over the ensuing years, I must have repeated that line a few times. Because there I was this spring, turning chicken legs on the grill, when out of nowhere Sofia crowed, "The meat falls off the bone!!!!"

So every time I grill chicken legs, we have a little singalong.

fancy feet

Sofia has taken up a new sport -- Soccer.



Sofia and Josh play in the back yard.

For her birthday two years ago, Uncle Mike got Sofia a kid-sized World Cup soccer ball. She showed some interest in playing with it over the last two summers, but not that much. The concept of what it was for was a little lost on her, and other games were more interesting.

This summer, she took right to it. Don't know if it was the other sports classes she's been taking at the Y or if it's just a case of her growing (and it's probably both), but sofia has suddenly gotten good at dribbling a soccer ball. Whenever I get home from work, she wants to play in the back yard.

Like any parent who dreams of college scholarships, I tried getting her to pass the ball back and forth (improving) and dribbling the ball around and through a line of lawn chairs (not bad). Thing is, these are not things she wants to do.

"Daddy, I want to play the real soccer now," she says.

The real soccer, by the way, is her kicking the ball and trying to keep away from me -- or me trying to keep the ball away from her. Which is fine, if you're in decent physical shape. I'm still getting there...

So the real test will come this summer, when Sofia goes to day soccer camp at the Y. It's a good first step, we think -- given that it's the Y, the emphasis will likely be on learning, improving and having fun, rather than drills, instruction and the win-at-all-costs mentality that has infected youth sports. There will be plenty of time for that later, I'm afraid. Soccer is pretty competitive in this town and I bet there are not many players on the boys or girls team who are not also playing travel team club soccer in the summer.

For now, it's all about fun .. and I like that.

let's go racing!

Monday, we went to Lime Rock Park with our friends Carl and Josh to take in a day of racing under blue, sunny skies. It was a postcard day -- warm but not too hot and breezy -- and we had a great time.

I describe Lime Rock as the Tanglewood of motorsports -- there are no seats, just green hills and trees. Except instead of strings and horns, you hear the thunder of finely-tuned racing engines and the squeal of tires. I had not been in 10 years and Michelle had not been since she was a girl, so we were both looking forward to attending.

As for Sofia: She has a need for speed. Don't know if that's just the way she is or if I taught her that by watching racing on TV and pushing the shopping cart at the supermarket like I was Steve McQueen, but at any rate, one day last year I was at the computer when she came in from the living room and said "daddy, the race is on."




So when she saw me watching youtube footage of cars taking laps at Lime Rock, she was immediately curious. So we packed the earplugs along with a picnic and headed out to the track.

Sofia got to be friends pretty quickly with Josh and Carl, who came down Sunday night.



In fact, after Josh, Carl and I went over to the paddock to check out all the internal combustion-fired goodness, we happened upon Michelle and Sofia on the way back ... they had come over to find us because, as Michelle explained, Sofia wanted to know "Where did those boys go?"

(That phrase will be the death of me in 10 years.)

Sofia also picked a favorite car out of the pack. And she did it the way any 4-year-old would: by color. Here she is with her favorite ride, the No. 90 Automatic Racing BMW M3:


They finished 29th out of a field of 35. But their teammates won the race!

All in all, a great day. I got to drive Carl's BMW (woohoo!), we saw some great racing, Sofia enjoyed herself immensely and we enjoyed the company of our friends.

All that excitement kept Sofia awake until 9 p.m. We'll see how tonight goes...

awwwwww, man!!!!!

Like eight zillion other children, Sofia likes watching Dora The Explorer.
We have limited her exposure to all TV ... but when she does watch, she sure is fond of that football-headed girl, her monkey Boots, her ubiquitous backpack and the adventures they get into. (And what the heck, Sofia can count to five in Spanish.)

The songs and bits are ripe for parody and application to our daily lives. For example, there's my impression of The Map, explaining how to get to Dunkies: "High school, horse farm, donut store! Say it with me! High school, horse farm, donut store!"

And then there's Swiper.


When Swiper shows up on the scene to do his swiping thing, Sofia gets a little skittish. Hides her head. Doesn't want to watch.

Over time, we've tried to get her to understand that Swiper is a cartoon character -- you know, pretend -- and that he never "wins." (He is perhaps the most incompetent cartoon villian this side of the snow monster from Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.)

Sofia has been completely unswayed by this argument.

So the other day, Sofia and I are watching Dora trying to deliver a magic flute or something, and Swiper is about to show up.

Before I can say a word, Sofia speaks up. And how.

"I know he's only a cartoon fox, but I don't want to see him, OK?" she says, beating me to the punch.

Well, then. The lady has spoken!

Again: She's FOUR!!!

Later, I asked her why she does not like Swiper. "Because he takes things. He's mean," she said.

Oh, kid. I wish the meanest thing in this world was a cartoon fox that regularly proves himself the most inept thief since "Dog Day Afternoon." And I hate to break that to you ... please grow up slowly.

An Early Mother's Day Present

Have a look at what Sofia made her mama for Mother's Day. This card accompanied a geranium in a pink flower pot. And yes, she wrote it HERSELF (though I suppose she copied the words -- as if that matters, she still wrote it).


Here's the inside:


She was so proud!

Michelle, of course, melted, teary-eyed. As did I.

Just another sign that our little girl is not so little any more (she recently proclaimed herself a "medium-sized girl") and rapidly growing up.

Wow.

sofia's b-day party

While we're catching up -- and there's a lot of catching up to do .. here's a quick look at Sofia's birthday party, held last month at J. Foster Ice Cream in Avon.



First, a word about our hosts and partners in high-calorie crime. J. Foster makes ice cream too good for words, so I'll make one up: yummilicious. And they're an independent, locally-owned small business -- now that's a difference you can sink your spoon into.

Now, do four-year-olds appreciate the difference? The off-the-charts butterfat content? The perfectly-churned goodness? Not sure. But they appreciate chocolate.

So Sofia and 10 of her closest pals descended on their lovely showroom and a good time was had by all. What a great place for a party it turned out to be.

Here's a game of Simon Says that turned into a happy birthday singalong. Not sure why Sofia keeps tugging at her dress, other than perhaps she was nerved by all the attention (and you'll hear mom pleading for propriety if you watch this clip) but it's fun.

Warning: On a 1-to-10 cuteness factor, this is about a 37.


And then there was the ice cream....


Did I say ice cream?


Poor cousin Amanda. She made the trip from greater Boston and was fresh off a nap when she arrived ... and wanting to deal with the world on her terms. So she did. And ate her ice cream with her eyes closed. Kids, don't try this at home:


And of course, there were prezzies. That's Jake's older sister on the left (she served as secretary .. many thanks!) and Marah on the right.


Later that afternoon we had family and friends who traveled from out of town over for a light lunch. It was a great afternoon -- maybe her best birthday party yet aside from her very first. But then again, anything featuring premium ice cream is by definition a success.

Happy Birthday, Sofia

April 17, 2008

Dear Sofia,

Tomorrow you’re going to be four years old. Four! If I wasn’t here for the whole thing, I would scarcely believe it. But here you are, in preschool, growing smarter and taller and more precious by the day.

And although four years have truly flown by -- I can still, very clearly, remember your first moments in our realm and the milestones in your first year of life -- I cannot imagine a time when I didn’t know you. When I didn’t cherish the time we spent time together playing and having “just you and me” time and adventures at the YMCA or the supermarket. When I didn’t miss you during the day at work and worry about you when you went away on trips with mom or stayed over with grandma.. When I wasn’t completely melted when you said “I love you daddy” or called me your best friend in the whole world and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

Two years ago, you still needed to be pushed around in your little plastic car (the one that made you plaintively shout “my carrrrr!!!!!” when we took you out of it). A year ago you were just figuring out how to coordinate your legs to try to pedal a tricycle. Now you’re moving onto a bike with training wheels (and you'll need a biggger one, it turns out), and the plastic car and tricycle went out to the curb last week for other little boys and girls somewhere to use.

Two years ago you were just learning letters and singing the alphabet. Now you’re oh so close to learning to read .. and when that happens, there will be no stopping you -- even moreso than when you finally learned to walk, then run. At that moment your natural curiosity will take over and take you down any road you want to travel, any time you choose -- and then we’ll really have to watch (and marvel at) where you run next.

You’ve always been able to wow us with your dance moves. But now you’re taking dance classes and learning ballet and jazz movement -- and the gains in balance and confidence are noticeable. You’re getting better at throwing and kicking the soccer ball in the yard, running and jumping and even tackling me in the living room -- though you’re getting too big to do that. You can sled down the hill at the high school all by yourself and climb back up with some help. You can go for long walks around the block with us. You're setting the dinner table and insisting on doing more and more yourself ... you get upset (offended, even!) when I do something that you want to prove you can do on your own.

You've got friends at school and you're befriending your relatives .. especially those grandmas and uncles.

You’ve always liked horsing around and having us pick you and swing you around upside down. It was easier when you were two years old and smaller. Now you’re taking tumbling classes and learning how to do somersaults and hang upside down on the bars. And you’re just about too big for either of us to pick up. You used to stand on my chest or my shoulders and I’d hold your hands and sing the “So Big” song to the melody of Miles Davis’ “So What”:

Let me tell you ‘bout Sofia, So big!
She’s a very big girl, So big!
Every day she keeps growing, So big!
She grows and grows, So big!
But now you’re too big to do that. So we’ll have to invent new games, songs and dances.

I am continually amazed by the things you say and the things you can do. Words like “frustrated,” “reflection” and “appreciate” have come out of your mouth, in context -- that just knocks us over. You’re writing your own name -- first and last -- and learning how to spell words. You only talk to us in complete sentences … and your grammar, frankly, is better than mine. You’re polite and sweet and funny when we go out and you never fail to charm folks .. And make us super proud. Every single day.

It’s also becoming clearer how sensitive you are -- you care about being a good girl and living up to that standard, and you take it hard when we correct you. Your mom and dad were sensitive children, too, and well I’m still pretty easily hurt sometimes, too -- so sometimes I worry about that. I want to tell you what 40 years of life have taught your mom and me -- that so much of what upsets us, in the end, really isn’t that important after all. But I also know that you’ll grow up to be someone who cares about people and will think of others and not only of herself. And that’s a good thing.

But I am also thrilled that you got the same silly sense of humor your mom and dad do and that you revel in silliness, which I’m only too happy to share with you.

Sometimes you get frustrated at first when things don’t go right, and it makes you hesitant to try again. But you’re so proud when you’re finally able to do those things, too .. And you love to tell me all about what you’re going to do when you’re bigger. You say you’re going to “touch the sky” when you’re big. You look forward to going to school with the big kids, too. You even told me you can’t wait to drive a car. (Everything in time, friend.)

It’s been a whirlwind, these past four years. I very clearly remember your first days with us and how our lives changes so profoundly from that moment. Everything that has happened since then has been for you, about you and with you. And we haven’t minded that in the least; in fact we have embraced it as surely as we have embraced you. For you are the most beautiful thing in our world; you, the little girl we realized we had known all our lives from the moment we met you. You are not in our hearts as much as you are our hearts and we love you with all of it.

Every day when I turn on my computer at work I see your face on my screen and stop to think of you. And every night when I put you to bed, I kiss your head and finish our prayers with this: “And God bless Sofia, and keep her growing big and strong and happy and healthy and strong and safe.” And I close the door and walk downstairs and without fail tell mama “I love that girl so much.”

And as you start to hit your stride this year and really become a big girl, I hope you’ll remember that … and go into this world with the confidence that mom and dad are right behind you and think the world of you.

Love, Daddy

better late than ever

We've been really, really lame about updating this blog.
Months of inactivity. No new postings. No news, no asides, no pictures, nothing.
And you're wondering how Sofia's doing.
Well, we're back and relaunching SSW ... there have been so many changes in our girl's life, so much growing and learning and specialness, and it's high time we got back to sharing it.
Regularly.
So try, try again. More posts to come soon ... her highness needs to be put to bed.
- Greg

We're Back

Sorry this blog has been MIA so long.

Sofia is 3 and a half, growing like a weed and learning at an astonishing rate.

She can:

- Make up stories and songs
- Draw stick figures and copy simple drawings
- Write her name legibly (which is more than I can do!)
- Remember the spellings of her friends’ names
- Distinguish what letter many words start with
- Do a somersault and/or cartwheel, with assistance
- Eat with “grownup” table implements
- Use inverse reasoning. Told the pancakes she helped make were delicious, she said “The pancakes weren’t as good when I didn’t help make them.”
- Walk up stairs with alternating feet
- Recite her phone number and address
- Pedal a tricycle under her own power

That’s an amazing list. But still trying to teach Sofia some of the more important things lately. Like:

- Eating veggies? Well we’re making some strides. She knows why she needs to eat veggies. But that’s not usually reason enough. Chocolate pudding? Now there’s motivation to eat veggies. Sometimes. They say you’re not to use dessert as a bribe for eating right. But they obviously never tried to get a 3-year-old to eat spinach.
- Also exposed the girl for the first time to Otis Redding and Aretha Franklin records. Sat here at the computer and she stood on my lap, dancing as I held her enough that she would not fall. Girl’s got moves, and she liked Otis’s “I Can’t Turn You Loose,” “Think” and “See-Saw” best.
“This song’s about a see-saw,” she said, giggling. Well, it sort of is, kid. She liked it when I pointed out that the guitar sounds like a chicken. (That’s no domestic poultry! That’s Steve Cropper!)
- She also asked me about the words to “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head.” “What’s that song about, daddy?” Well, it’s about a rainy day … but it’s also about trying to stay happy even when things are going wrong, I told her. She seemed to get that. She likes that song. I like the fact my girl likes well-crafted music.
- Yesterday we raked up the copious leaves in the yard. At one point I brought around the leaf blower to the front yard, where she was helping her mom, and she grinned and waved at me .. totally daddy's girl. And then, after each load of leaves from the back to the front curb, she ran back with this intent little 3-year-old girl running stride I can't really describe, other than to say what it lacks in classic running form, it makes up for in determination.

Can You Keep a Secret?

Last night Greg picked up Sofia from preschool. He must have been talking about my Mother's Day gift with her in car. She and I were playing in the sand table outside later when she started this conversation:

Sofia: Mama, we need to talk...
Me: About what, Sofia?
Sofia: About your bike, Mama..
(I don't own a bike, and she knows this.)
Me: What bike, Baby?
Sofia: The bike that's supposed to be a surprise! (She's very excited.)
(Uhoh)
Me: Was this supposed to be a secret, Sofia?
Sofia: Yessssss. (Looks excited!)
Sofia: Uhoh. ( Looks likes she's going to cry.)
Me: It's ok, I won't tell.

She smiles at me and I change the subject.

Guess I am finally getting a bike!)

Riding your bike

I am so proud of you. You love riding your trike.

Using your words

I love how well you talk these days. But the better you get takes you one more step away from being a baby to a big girl. For posterity, I have include some pronuciations for words you used to say.

burly-burly (butterfly)
bah-lana (banana)
swimming cool (pool)
one, two, free, four, five, six, eleven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, eleven, eleven.

Happy Birthday, Sofia

April 18, 2007

Dear Sofia,

Happy Birthday! You’re three years old!



You’ve been so excited about your birthday – for more than a month now! You’re old enough now to understand the concept of holidays and special days. You told us what kind of birthday party you wanted (Sagwa, the Chinese Siamese Cat), what you want to eat (pizza!) and who you wanted to come to your party.

It’s gone something like this:

Me: What’s going to happen on your birthday?
- You: I’m going to get presents!

And what else?
- Play with my friends!

What are you going to eat?
- Cake!

And what are you going to sing?
- singing: Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday Sofia, happy birthday to you!

It’s an exception that proves the rule. Yes, it’s a special day that comes around only once a year, and you’ve been to other birthday parties and understand what the fuss is all about, but the way you’ve been about your birthday shows so much about who you’ve become and what you’re like. You’ve become more aware of your surroundings and more adept at telling us what you think, how you feel, what you want (and don’t want).

A year ago you were just using phrases and short sentences. But now, you’re carrying on real conversations with us now. And do we ever love talking to you!

“I’m Sofia! I’m a big girl!” you announced in the car. “I’m almost all growed up,” you said putting on your own clothes. “Daddy, someday can you and me and mama go bowling again?” you asked. “You’re my best friend,” you’ve told us both. You pick out your clothes for school and order your own food at the Friendly. You tell us what books you want to read, what toys you want to play with and what you don’t want to eat at dinner (practically everything, and no that doesn’t make us all kinds of happy but we know you’re both pushing for limits and staking out your independence at the same time, and we’ll live through it – and I hope by the time you’ve read this you’ve learned to like carrots. Please? But I digress).

And oh yes – this year you learned to use the potty by yourself. We were so proud.

And are you smart! You can recite entire pages – nearly entire books – of Dr. Seuss. You’re learning letters and what words they start (“S is for me!” you say, knowing your name begins with that letter) and building 12-piece puzzles on your own. I love coloring and drawing with you and playing pretend games, hiding in our “clubhouse” from the colorful, fuzzy “monsters” you invent – all of them, somewhat suspiciously, with the name FlopsyMopsyCottontale, and watching you dance. Mommy loves to paint or cut out paper shapes or decorate Easter eggs or make things with Play-Doh with you.

But I love quiet time with you, too. Sometimes you’re difficult to put to bed because you have such an exacting routine and you want to hold the book and turn the pages … man, you’re a handful sometimes, and when I’m done trying to reason with you or explain we’re doing things a certain way and that’s final, I have to remind myself “oh yeah, she’s 3 and she’s tired, this is supposed to happen.” But I love reading to you and seeing how engaged you get with your books. Sometimes we just look at each other and share that special Daddy-Sofia moment – the kind where I can’t help but smile at you, And when you’re really tired, sometimes you still fall asleep on my shoulder or next to me in the easy chair in the living room, and I don’t want to get up or bring you upstairs because I love how you rest on me, warm and snuggly and button-cute, like the little girl you were not so very long ago.

That little girl from a year ago is already growing up – and she had grown up so much, too from one-year-old you. I look at the pictures now, and how you have changed .. so very grown up, such a pretty little girl. It’s amazing to me, when I think about it, that just three years ago your mom and I were camped out at South Shore Hospital, waiting for you to be born, and then were completely overwhelmed with joy by the miracle that is you, in all your pudgy, head-full-of-hair glory. And now here you are, three short years later, a smart, sweet, talented and beautiful person we’re so, so very proud of. We’ve seen the way you interact with your friends at daycare, with strangers we meet, with our friends, and we’re so proud at how polite and charming and just plain good you are.

Where has the time gone? You’re growing so fast … we love the way you’ve grown and how big you are, but we hope you’ll slow down enough to enjoy being 3 – that you’ll be a little girl for a while. Maybe that’s kind of selfish, since you want to be so big .. but there will be time enough for the stress of this world. Be happy and play. At least so we can play with you and share that happy time, too.

“She was this small!” we say, holding our hands about 21 inches apart – that’s how long you were. It doesn’t seem possible. And we look around at our world, and what children and young adults are confronted with now, and it makes us a little nervous that you’re coming of age in such uncertain times. But we have such hope.

Happy birthday, Sofia, and so many, many more…
Love always and forever,
daddy

And the Oscar for overacting goes to....

...Sofia, for her performance the other day when she was having a tantrum and wanted milk.

"Oh please oh please oh please can I have something to drink?!?!?" she wailed from the upstairs hall. "Oh please oh pleeeeeeeasssssee?"

It's hard to be all stern and parental when you're thisclose to cracking up laughing.

Love makes a ... bakery?

I asked Sofia a question she knew the answer to ... and got more than I bargained for.

"What do mommy and daddy and Sofia make?" I asked her, expecting her to say "a family."

The answer?

"Cake! .... No, cookies!"

Then she started singing the chorus to the Sister Sledge disco classic "We Are Family."

Little clown ... no idea where she got that from...