Mommy/Sophie games

You and I have at least two games that only we know and understand.

One of them goes by the name of "Don't Fall Off."  Despite what it sounds like, it's a singing game.  I don't even know how or why it started, but I do recall that it started in the car.  From your carseat in the back, you would call in a sing-song voice, "Don't fall off!"  and then I would sing it back to you.  Soon you began saying it in a myriad of voices:  high-pitched and squealy, low and gravelly like a monster, whispered quietly, shouted out like some punk song.  Each time I echo it back to you in the voice that you used.  It is silly and nonsensical, but it makes us both laugh and we go through a good 12-15 rounds of "Don't fall off" until we are over it.  If I mention "Don't fall off!" at any other time, you get a big, knowing grin on your face.

"Diaper Monster" has been around for us for a long time.  I hold up one of your diapers and pretend it's a crocodile--"cocodrilo" to you because you have enjoyed a lot of Dora the Explorer.  I make it snap it's jaws open and closed while roaring, "DIAPER MONSTER!" and making it eat your head, face, and any flailing limb that I can manage to grab.  You love the game, and run around screaming and squealing and giggling.  Only recently have you begun to initiate "Diaper Monster" on your own.  You were so sweet and restrained about it that it took me a minute to figure out what you were doing.  Standing in front of me, you wave the diaper in my direction with a quiet little, "Rawr!"

Three things you love at this very moment

Things you love:

1.  Clean nightgowns!  Nightgowns are relatively new to you--our long winter is finally over and gone are the fleecy or footed pajamas to keep you toasty.  You have several pretty little nightgowns that you love, and you generally want to put one of them on as soon as you get home from school and wear them all weekend, too.  One evening when you were cranky and I was trying to soothe you, I said, "Let's go upstairs and take a bath and put a clean nightgown on and you'll feel better."  From then on, you always refer to them as 'clean nightgowns' instead of just nightgowns.  I hope you never stop.

2.  Saying 'good-bye' to absolutely everything.  It started with stinkbugs.  We had tons of them in our house in April and May.  They didn't do much--just hung around mostly.  But you always noticed them and began looking toward the walls and ceilings for them whenever you entered a room.  You'd cry, "Bug!" and point.  I'd say, "Yes, there's a stinkbug up there."  You would respond with, "Stinky bug!"  Soon whenever we left a room, you'd notify them of your departure by waving (sometimes blowing kisses) and saying, "Bye bye, stinky bugs!"  Since then you've started saying good-bye to your school, good-bye to your diapers when we take them off, good-bye to your nightgowns when you are getting dressed ("Bye bye, clean nightgown!"), good-bye to your used Band-aids when they are put in the trash can ("Bye bye, new kitties!"), good-bye to your shoes and socks when you take them off, good-bye to your green turtle sandbox on the front porch when we leave for school in the morning....and on and on.  It is very endearing.  It also seems quite neurotic, but you ARE my daughter and that is to be expected.

3.  Band-Aids (a.k.a.) "new kitties."  On one of the first very warm days in late May, I took you to the Tugboat Depot playground in Star City.  It doesn't have the swings you love best, but it does have an awful lot of interesting things to climb on that you enjoy.  You got brave and attempted to go down one of the bigger sliding boards by yourself, but unfortunately the sun had made the plastic slide a bit too got.  You got a small slide burn under one of your knees and you cried.  We washed in and put a Hello, Kitty Band-Aid on it and you were enchanted.  You wanted one on your other leg, too.  And when it was time to take the Band-Aid off you were so sad and protested, "Kitties!" I reassured you that we would take a bath and then put on "new kitties."  Soon I started adding other boxes of Band-Aids to our collection--Dora the Explorer, Mickey Mouse, the Smurfs (whom you eye with suspicion and immediately request removal by saying, "Off.  Off.  Off?"  But no matter what kind of Band-Aids you are wearing, you still refer to them as "new kitties."  They are part of our daily wardrobe now.  Even at school, if they see that one has fallen off of you during play they give you a new one.  One morning when I dropped you off I heard a teacher ask you, "Sophie, what kind of Band-Aids do you have one today?"  You proudly showed them.