A craft store explosion

I just returned late last night from a work trip, and you are still at mamaw's house.  I have a fresh pot of coffee and a desire to organize. Today's the day to smuggle out broken, nearly empty, or unused toys and art supplies.  It looks like a craft store blew up in the dining room and I can't take it anymore.

Peepee in the potty

I have been so nervous for so long about potty training you.

I was so scared you'd feel pressured or something and end up with a weird complex about pooping.

Right around your 2nd birthday I got you a potty and a potty seat.  You loved your potty, but you would correct me when I referred to it that way.  "Chair," you would clarify, as you sat down on it fully clothed to play or watch cartoons.  I didn't stress about it, though, figuring that as long as you were interacting with it and getting accustomed to it that it was a good thing.

Sometimes you would agree to sit on it without a diaper for me, but you were visibly uncomfortable.  "Off," you would demand at first, and then in later months, "Sophia get up?"

You loved the little underpants I got you, but preferred to adorn your head and arms with them.  When I persuaded you to try them on without your diaper, you paused thoughtfully, frowned, and demanded, "Off."

Your interest in the whole affair ebbed and flowed.  Two evenings ago (11/19/14, to be exact!) I was helping you put on moisturizer and pajamas after you bath.  We sat on my bed and suddenly you looked at me and said, "Poop in the bed."  I asked you if you wanted to poop in the potty and--to my surprise--you said you did.  So we promptly got out the potty seat and you sat for about 30 seconds and all of a sudden you were peeing.

I was so excited, I almost lost my balance where I was perching on the edge of the bathtub.  I tried to keep my glee in check so that I didn't scare you midstream and ruin everything forever. I explained how to use the toilet paper and let you flush the toilet.  (You loved that part.)  Then I allowed myself to hug you and cry joyfully, "Sophie!  You peed in the potty!"  You grinned.  I called down the stairs to your father:  "Sophie peed in the potty!"

After you were dressed I made a big deal of giving you the My Little Pony charm necklace I had been saving for this very occasion since July. We called your mamaw and shared the news with her.  Your exact words to her over the phone were:  "Sophia necklace peed in da potty!"

This morning your teacher emailed to tell me you peed in the potty at school, too.

I didn't expect you to be 2 years and 8 months old before we made so much progress, but I will take it and I will not complain.  I'm not in a hurry for you to get any bigger.  Once you're potty-trained, you can just stay this age for quite awhile.

A new life: Your twenty-sixth month

Dear Sophia,

I have not written to you here for a long time.  It was too painful for me to reflect on much of this.

Our life looks very different now than it did nearly 14 months ago when I last posted and almost all of it is for the better.  I tried so very hard for so very long to find a job so that we could remain in the San Francisco Bay Area, but it did not work out.  I made the choice to move us to WV (where I grew up) where the job prospects were better and where we had family who could help us get on our feet.

It was unclear for a period of time whether your father would choose to join us because your older brother is still in CA.  In the end he did.

On May 24, 2013 he drove us to the airport. We said our goodbyes and you and I flew across the country to begin our new life.  I took this picture as we drove across the Bay Bridge for the last time, on our way to SFO.  About 15 seconds after I took it, you had your first of many bouts of carsickness that made the remainder of our drive really, really smelly:

I was terrified to fly with you.  I was scared of being stuck on a long flight and being THAT MOM with the kid that everyone complained about and shot dirty looks.  But you couldn't have been better-behaved.  You were curious and easy going, and thrilled with the snacks I packed and the odds and ends I regularly plied you with from the dollar store to keep you occupied.

In the beginning of our time in WV, I was in complete shock for at least a week.  I cried constantly and at the drop of a hat.  I couldn't stop asking myself, "What has happened to my life?"  But seeing you explore your new surroundings and meet family and friends you'd never met helped to comfort me.

One evening I sat in the swing in my father's backyard.  He and Kelly were working in the yard, and you were happily exploring.  I knew I'd made the right decision.  You might not have the childhood I'd originally envisioned for you, but I could give you one closer to mine--the good parts.

Within six weeks of our arrival I got a job in research at WVU that I was thrilled with.  Soon after that your father arrived.  You were thrilled.

We stayed with family in the beginning, but my job allowed us to get on our feet quickly.  We bought a car and rented a house in Morgantown.  We moved into our yellow house at the end of a dead-end street on September 22, 2013.  Nearly everything we had was second-hand--couch, dining room table, bed--but we didn't care.  Our cat Freddy flew from Nana's house in San Jose to join us.  Finally we were all together and starting a new life after such a difficult and painful struggle.

Things were still not so easy, but we made some wonderful memories.  And watching you grow and learn and discover was the best part of all.  You are my best girl.  My Sophie Bug.  My world.

At Christmas you met Santa for the first time right after a hearty poop at a Christmas party.  You weren't quite sure what to think while sitting on his lap and were much more interested in the present for you that he was holding.  But after your turn was over and it was time for other kids to have a turn, you decided you loved him.  You ran back to the stage and photobombed others' photos multiple times.

You knocked over his white wicker reindeer and made off with his basket of candy canes.  I was mortified and chasing you and laughing and trying to take pictures all at once.  We looked like the heathens of the party.

Eventually when Santa saw you return to the stage again, he sighed and said, "Hi, Sophia."

You are smart and funny and joyful and active.

You are sweet and stubborn and silly and curious.

You are loved immensely.

Somehow you are now two years old.  You love your two blankies more than anything in the world.  And now you have two stuffed rabbits that also join us everywhere.  More often than not your first and last word of the day is "rabbit" as you try and account for your critters just before and just after sleeping.

I let your mamaw plan your birthday party.  I brought the birthday girl and the cake.  You had a fabulous time running around with your cousins.  You had exactly zero interest in cake and ice cream, but you did enjoy the cheese.

You don't care for using the potty much, although you do enjoy using it as a chair and as storage for your jewelry.  I've bought you many pairs of sweet little "big girl panties."  You love them!  Mostly because you are partial to wearing them on your wrists like bracelets--with your arms shoved through the leg holes.  You love stickers passionately.  There was a time when I was bringing home extra stickers from work that promoted STI testing and they allowed the wearer to boast, "I got myself tested!"  You stuck them to all of our canned goods.

You have an excellent appetite and eat most foods most of the time.  You especially love "sketti with me-balls," avocado, beans, cheese, hot dogs, pot roast, yogurt, pancakes, bananas, and dried apricots.  Your mamaw and I had a bit of a tense discussion recently over your food intake.  She feels you eat too much.  You are perfectly happy and healthy, and I maintained that you know when you are hungry.  You eat healthy food.  It is a pleasure to watch you enjoy your meal.

After months on waiting lists, you started full-time daycare on April 7, 2014.  It has mostly gone well.  You definitely get sick more often, but you get to be with other kids and learn all kinds of new things.  You come home with new words and phrases all the time.  The other night you strutted through the kitchen chanting, "Hup, two, three, four! Hup, two, three, four!"  Apparently they are teaching you how to march.

It is a joy to be your mama.  Although it is admittedly very tiring.  You regularly cry, "Boogies!" and hand me a booger freshly picked.

You love to take sips of my coffee and aren't pleased when you polite, "Pwease? Pwease?" is denied.

You love your mamaw and regularly ask for her.  When I pick you up from daycare you plead for Freddy, Dada, french fries, and/or Cheerios.  You are lovely and expressive and make me laugh every day.  Even the bad ones.

It was very special to me when we planted herbs together on our front porch this spring.  I planted them with the encouragement of my friend Charra last year in California, and cried when I had to abandon my first tender young plants because we were moving away.  I comforted myself with the thought that I would plant more--this time with you--the following spring.  And we did.

We are several weeks into the beginning of your third year in this life.  I can't wait to see what it brings.

Love,

Mama