I Wanna Be Halloween!

Who dat peakin' through the wings?

Oh! It's Dragonfly Sophie!

I just finished sewing this costume a couple of days ago. (Oh, alright...I waited too long and the store was sold out so I bought it off ebay. But it was still cheaper than a trip to Michael's.) Sophie has put on her dragonfly costume a few times since it arrived, and she loves to run around the house flapping her wings. If she sees it in her closet she yells, "I wanna be Halloween!" If someone asks her what she's going to be for Halloween she says "Flappy wings." She has also made up a dragonfly noise. It sounds something like "Yaawwwp."

Toddler Enlightenment

Tonight while we were eating dinner, Sophie said, "I want God." Frank and I kept talking. "I want GOD!!" We made a few existential cracks. "Sophie want God. I want God." I tried to give her more squash. Did she want more acorn squash? Is that what she was saying? "No, I want GOD!" And then she reached out to hold our hands, like we do when we pray, and she bowed her head. Oh. God.

And we saw the light.

Things She Said This Morning

When I walked into her room to get her out of bed:
S: Whatcha been doin', Mom? I had a really good nap.

Me: Let's go change your diaper, Soph!
S: Nope, Laney wants to sing (pushing Frank's mic stand towards her invisible friend).

While eating breakfast:
S: No licky my cereal bar, Callie!

While brushing her teeth:
S: Don't touch toothpaste, Laney. Dat my toothpaste. (Again, Laney was NOT at our house this morning.)

On the way to school this morning:
S: I want the ocean.
Me: You want the whole ocean?
S: And a really big shovel.

Rainbow!

Some might say a multi-colored lei is "too much" for tie dye. But if you're wearing tie dye, is anything really over the top?


We made this cute tie-dye tank at our friend Caroline's party. It's such a great experiment, to untie your creation and see how the masterpiece turned out. Since it's 90 degrees in mid-October, we can still get away with tie-dye and tank tops here in Texas! As soon as I put this top on Sophie, she ran to get the lei to go with it. Quite the party girl.

Super Shoppers

Our neighborhood hosts two garage sale weekends each year. Last spring we threw our own sale and earned a few hundred bucks. This fall we decided to re-fill our garage! Here's our booty: blue (who wants a painting project?) metal chair = FREE; basketball goal = $1; eight books for Sophie = $5; flowery shirt and sailboat dress = $1.50; Casio keyboard = $5; two large dinosaurs = 50 cents; couch for Frank's classroom = $10; wooden chair for Frank's classroom = $10; movie screen (not pictured) for Frank's classroom = FREE; blue pom-pom for Sophie = FREE...and the find of the day...the ENTIRE zoological spectrum, including the Jurassic Age.....$3 whole dollars.

All in all, it was a great day of shopping. Our Laney-friend picked up a LightBright (Lite Brite?) and the other FREE pom pom. We like to share the love.

Guilt By Association

So...Sophie is two. As in terrible, at times. I know, I know...she's "independent" and "learning about boundaries" and "exploring her world." Translation: she's licking paintbrushes and eating play-doh and grabbing the dog's tail and throwing food on the floor.

Last week, she had to go to Time Out at school because she pushed her friend Kendall. (There have been unsubstantiated reports that "Kendall bited me," --no marks teethmarks or teacher's report, but she's sticking to the story-- so it was probably mafia-style retaliation.) I could've told 'em -- Time Out isn't really a punishment or consequence to Sophie. She just marches off to the Time Out spot, sits there quietly without the tears or frustration that might make you think she was sorry for whatever infraction was just committed. When you go to retrieve her after the age-appropriate two minutes and explain why you put her in Time Out and suggest that she say "Sorry, Momma" or "Sorry, Callie," she often responds with "No." (Crossed arms, feet swinging, "I can stay in Time Out all day, lady" look on her face.)

So she got a Time Out in school. And she didn't care. The next day, her teacher tried to re-direct some misbehavior and Sophie said, "No!" and did it again. They tried Time Out a few more times, but when Frank came to pick up Sophie, Miss Heather explained that they would be looking into some new consequences for her since Time Out didn't seem to work.

Huh?!? Like what? Sitting in a corner? Cleaning the erasers? Duct tape? What could this mean?!? My friend Julie told me that the only thing that really worked with her son was taking away his matchbox cars. That very same evening, Sophie did something mean to Callie -- I can't remember what. Dumped out her food bowl or smacked her on the head or something. The point is, Cow was there, too. So Sophie learned a little lesson called Guilt By Association. Sophie may have done the crime, but Cowmoo had to do the time. I scooped him up and told Sophie that Cow wasn't being nice to Callie-dog and put him in the Time Out room but up high where Sophie couldn't reach him. And she broke. There were tears and wailing and flailing and I think she even tried to smuggle in a cake with a file baked into the middle. After one minute of Cow being in Time Out, Sophie was saying she was sorry and giving hugs.

Sigh. Tune in next week to see pictures of me holding Cowmoo over a pot of boiling water.

Go, Sophie, Go

The girl's got wheels. The COOLEST set of wheels were unveiled at the farm. GramKat found a little silver truck (Sophie calls it "Sophie's Little Daddy's Truck") that you actually drive like a car. As in, "put the pedal to the metal" and "eat my dust." Cow took the maiden voyage:

So many errands, so little time. Hang on, Cowmoo -- we don't want you to get whiplash!

Sometimes you have to take a pit stop and smell the roses. Sometimes you just run into them because you're driving without hands.

"What? I didn't cut you off; you cut ME off, bozo!!" (Sophie experiences her first road rage.)

And here's the insane Grandma who bought Sophie her first car. They both look pretty pleased with themselves, don't they?

As we were driving back to Austin, Frank and I started a tally of Webster vehicles:

Frank: one rattly pick-up truck and one sand-encrusted, rusty bike with missing seat cover

Stacy: one Honda littered with goldfish crackers and reeking of sour milk; one bicyle with no gears and squeaky brakes

Sophie: one jogging stroller, one Graco stroller, one umbrella stroller, one bike buggy, one wooden sit-upon car, one plastic Cozy-Coupe car, two tricycles, and one silver pick-up truck with much better alignment and road noise than her Dad's. Oh, yeah...and a wagon.

So maybe we're not teaching her a good lesson about the environment. Then again, the only "vehicle" we bought for her at a store was the $9.99 umbrella stroller from Target. All her other rides were (in order): garage sale find, gift, garage sale find, used toy depot purchase, Craigslist find, used toy depot find and Grandma gift, Grandma gift, and garage sale find. We suck at emissions standards but we're great at recycling!