Today we set out for our first Easter egg hunt at a local petting zoo. I'd say that the kids outnumbered the animals by about 100 to 1. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many kids at once. Quickly it became clear that Sophie not only wasn’t going to “find” any eggs, but there was a good chance of her getting trampled. So while everybody was off on the egg hunt, we went to pet the animals. We knew we were going to be in for a good time because recently Sophie has started noticing animals, especially dogs, and wants to touch/pet them. The zoo is quaint and has the typical pigs, goats, llamas, cows, rabbits to pet, but Sophie’s favorite, hands down: Grey Goat. We bought her some carrots to feed the goat and she immediately knew what to do. She grabbed a carrot and held it out for Grey Goat. Grey Goat was particularly gentile and sweet. She was eager to get food, but never nibbled Sophie’s tiny fingers. This all thrilled Sophie to no end. She loved feeding the goats. After about 20 minutes of feeding/petting/poking at the animals, we were all getting cold and running out of carrots. As we left, the whole mob of kids poured in after having snatched all the eggs to be found. I think we should count ourselves lucky this year, because in another year or so, telling a child she isn’t going to hunt for eggs like the rest of the kids is borderline abuse, even if you do get to pet Grey Goat.

Brought to you by the letter 'B'

You never realize--sighed her mother--how many things start with the letter 'B', . . .

Sophie says "Buh!"  She would like you to realize, "Buh!" Because I don't think you quite realize the urgency "Buh" can take on--especially when your parents are so dim witted as to think you might mean "Buh-all" or "Buh-ottle" or "Buh-bye" (maybe that means she's done?) or "Buh-aby" ("--would like you to do your silly dance again now please") or maybe "Buh-lanket" (a long shot) or possibly "Buh-water" (grasping at straws).

She Peed!!!!!

We've taken to putting her on her potty, right before putting her in her bath.  Not because we expect anything (we're not trying to potty train yet) but just on the off chance something happens.

Something happened tonight--and Sophie seemed delighted with the resulting song and dance and effulgent praise that was forthcoming.  So who knows, maybe she'll do it again soon, just to see the poopie-peepee dance.

twelve hours and counting

As I write this, it's 8:02 in the morning. Sophie has been asleep since I put her down at 7:58pm. We haven't gotten up once to put her back to sleep, although Mike did get up at 7:30am to make sure she was still breathing. She has been asleep for 12 hours and 4 minutes. This is just short of a miracle. While today is especially amazing, she has been sleeping uninterruptedly for a quite few nights now. We both wake up asking if the other got up in the night. Increasingly the answer is no, nobody got up and nobody heard a peep from her. Which means either we are sleeping harder and don't notice Sophie or she's sleeping better. I think it is more likely the latter. I'd like to think that she's sleeping so well because we've been almost militant with her sleeping habits. In the last six months, she's been put to sleep within 15 minutes of 8:00 probably 95% of the time. Her bedtime routine is sacred and we don't veer from it. Is this is our reward for our diligent work maintaining a reliable schedule for her? Probably not, but I'd like to think so. Regardless, it's now 8:21, twelve hours and counting.

Charming

Waving + a grocery store full of appreciative old folks = lots and lots of positive attention for Sophie.

She was surrounded by adoring multitudes.

Bite-y

Probably just teething.  Or misplaced affection.  Or possibly just experimentation.

But she's become decidedly bite-y as of yesterday.

Sophie does not like it when I yelp and pull away.  I'm sorry, but it's an unmediated action.  Those are sharp little teeth.  I had to hug and reassure her the first time it happened--she gave me a confused and stricken look.  I'm sorry, but--man!

I never imagined that fatherhood would involve getting bitten on the nipple.  Motherhood, sure; but fatherhood, no.

Boom!  Right through the shirt, like she had a homing beacon or something.  Just latched right on and giggled.

Rocking horse

Sophie has a bouncy seat in which she loves to bounce. 

She has a Zebra that's supposed to bounce up and down, but she hasn't quite gotten it yet.

She has Blue Horse: a little plastic rocking horse that she has hitherto used just to climb on and off of.

Today she learned to rock back and forth.  She rocked and rocked.  She got really good really fast.  She almost got air.