Do we have a TV?

Tonight as we read our bedtime stories, Sophie chose a book that was way beyond her level of comprehension. It was a guidebook for Spain, so I mostly just talked to her about the pictures. One picture in it was of a man watching TV. I asked Sophie, "Do we have a TV?" I figured she wouldn't understand since she's never seen our TV on except when she accidentally fiddles with the remote control and the screen lights up. We've been very strict about the no TV rule. Apparently, that's not enough for her to understand that the box in the corner is a TV because she turned around and pointed to it without much hesitation. I guess my next question should have been, "Do you know what a TV does?" I wonder how she's figured that out?

Who Flipped her Sassy Switch?

I remember when she was all sweet and enjoyed helping us out.

"Sophie, can you help me put on your shirt, please?" you'd say, and she'd rush over to oblige.

Now it's all "No, my Dis!" and "walk away!" Or if she's not in the mood for active resistance, she just completely ignores you. I mean completely. It's uncanny the degree to which she can utterly, absolutely and in no way respond to somebody talking to her, and tugging at her from less than two feet away. Total disregard. It's really impressive.

Of course we are able to physically overpower her, so diapers are still changed, baths are taken, and bedtimes observed. But to pick up this child when she doesn't want to be interfered with is like setting off a powerful and impressive anti-theft mechanism: she hoots and shrieks loudly, and alternates postures of limp noncompliance with ramrod straight stiff-as-a-board-ism.

This morning it took her mother 45 minutes to hunt her down and wrestle some clothes on her. That's 45 minutes her father had to pretend to sleep through! (It's been rough for us all).

There's considerable sweetness leavening the stubborn defiance though. She gave me an "ah lub ooo" yesterday, and melted her JNanners when she climbed into her lap, gave her a hug and told her "my happy, JJ".

not everybody can wear a basket on their head so well

Music Critic

It's part of the ritual.

After the bath, and the diapering, and the brushing of the teeth comes the song. A little ditty about how we're going to turn off the lights and open the door.

"Daddy don't," she said tonight.

"What? No song?" I asked. "Softly falls the ...."

"Daddy no, no song, daddy don't. Peese."

--------------

In other news, she knows the word "pasta." I don't know who taught it to her, but there it is. "Moh pasta peese Daddy," she said tonight.

Why am I surprised she knows "pasta"? I don't know. Perhaps I expected "noodles" first.

--------------

She also knows the word "elbow." She enjoys pointing out both her own and others' elbows. She also identifies her own and others' shoulders as elbows, and vigorously resists all attempts at correction.

--------------

We went to the park again with her today. She ran up hills.

At bedtime, I didn't even have a chance to turn off the light before she turned around, snuggled into my chest and said: "Bed now peese."

amazing day

The weather is amazing today. This morning JJ & Sophie went to the park. I sat at my office receiving the pics :-(.

the hunt

Easter

This morning we first had an Easter Egg hunt at our local Trader Joe's. This is my kind of hunt, no crowds, civilized people, and good prizes, not crappy plastic toys or candy. It took her about one egg to catch on to the idea that she was supposed to find eggs hidden on the shelves. They had a five egg limit. In exchange for our eggs, we got a small bag of gummy bunnies, a bit of TJ chocolate and some clementine oranges.

JJ, Sophie and I went back home when we got a phone call from the Easter bunny saying that he was done at our house. As we pulled into the drive way and saw all the eggs "hidden" around the front yard, Sophie quivered with excitement and said, Jo-Jo's! Yes, just like Jo-Jos, there were eggs hidden around the front yard, lots of plastic eggs. She had a blast looking for them and knew just what to do.

After she found the first batch, they were hidden again. By the third round, the excitement wore off. She got tired of looking and JJ and I ended up picking most of them up. Note to self: 96 eggs is about max.