Human Anatomy 101

"There's a dog over there! Dogs have tails...Humans don't have tails. Humans have backs and bottoms and privates and a head and a belly and a back...."

Hanging Around with Grandpa (photos)

Conspiracy Theory

Sophia while running in circles at her grandparents' house: 

Aaaah! The government's chasing me! The government's chasing me! Aaaah!...

(We eventually figure out that she was saying "the goblins"...)

Downtown Holland, Michigan, with Cousins (photos)

Uncle Bruce and cousins Hannah and Trevor

Sharing a bench with a nice elderly chap.

Hug Therapy

Me: ...That's okay. You can cry, Sophia. Sometimes Daddy cries, too.
Sophia: No you don't! You're a man. Daddies don't cry.
Me: Sometimes I cry, honey, when I'm sad.
Sophia: Oh. Can I see you cry?
(I fake cry.)
Sophia: Don't be sad, Daddy. I'll hug you...

(There's nothing like a sympathy hug from a three year old to make life a bit more bearable : )

Imaginary Friends

I Googled "Is it normal for a three year old to have an imaginary friend?" Apparently it is normal and a sign of a creative child. I figured it would be. The funny thing is that Sophia's named her friend Sophia. Is that normal and creative?

At times she talks about herself in the third person, so I imagine this could lead to some confusion:

S: Sophia wants candy.

Me: I don't think so, honey.

S: I don't want candy. Sophia wants candy.

Me: Well, tell yourself and your imaginary friend to wait till after lunch...

The above dialogue is imaginary, but not imaginary is how creeped out I was when I first heard Sophia talking to herself in a disconcerting way. 

Last week she was having a tantrum in the back seat of the car because she wanted to put on her damp shoes that were drying up in front, but I wouldn't allow it. 

Suddenly I heard a calm, rational, nurturing voice interrupt her hollering: 

"Why are you crying?" 

(Tearful, tantrum voice) "I want my shoes!"

(Calm): "Don't cry. You can't wear your shoes because they're damp."

(Tearful): "But I want to wear my shoes!"

(Calm): "Your shoes are damp right now. They're drying. Don't cry."

(Tearful): "I want my shoes! I dropped them at Mamo's house and I want to wear them!"....

I adjusted my rear view mirror for a good look at what in the world was going on back there, Smeagol! She was alternating between the tantrum and her angel-faced persona with professional stage craft precision! 

I told Laura about it when we got home. Laura was not amused and she expressed cautious concern about our daughter's state of mind. Indeed, it's one thing for a child to talk to her pink striped tiger and her other toys, but is this okay? 

Well, after a few days of hearing Sophia's conversations with Sophia, I've come to accept both of them with open arms as a healthy part of our family, especially after I realized how much talking aloud I do to myself as I'm cleaning house. My conversations with myself can get quite intense, both positively and negatively:

"Oh, that sink looks great! Good job!..." 

"Ouch, you klutz! What's the matter with you?!..." 

Even though I talk to myself at times, I feel like it's reasonable behavior, as long as I'm out of earshot when I do that.

Oh, boy. That must be it. My daughter has great hearing. Maybe I'm to blame for her alter ego?...

Oh, well. Google search says it's normal, so maybe I should just embrace my vocal other self and give him a name. How about "Mark"? That's not weird, right?

The Marshmallow Test

Sophia eats two marshmallows this morning by first politely asking for them and then doing some chores with me to earn them. She is beside herself with giggles over it: "Marshmallows are yummy!"....

Unfortunately, I just caught her on top of my reclining chair grabbing the bag of marshmallows from the bookshelf. She spots my stunned face and knows she is caught sticky handed, so she desperately stuffs her mouth like a crazed chubby bunny...

The marshmallows are hidden away and she is beside herself in tears over it, screaming out repeatedly as she rolls about on the carpet, "I want marshmallows!" like an addict in withdrawal...

And all I can think about is that she would most certainly fail that famous marshmallow test from the 1960s that supposedly measures one's success in life based on one's willpower to delay gratification as a child.

So then what do I do as she tantrums? I covertly stuff a marshmallow into my mouth...

Sigh.

I know. I too would fail the marshmallow test....

Cherry Picking with Jesús

Having a Spanish friend named Jesús can be confusing:

Sophia: Can we go to the beach?
Me: No, we're going to pick cherries with Jesus.
Sophia: No we're not!
Me: Yes, we are. We're going to meet Mama at the cherry farm and Jesus is going to show us around.
Sophia: No, we're not because Jesus isn't real!...
Me: Ha! Not the "Jesus Loves Me" Jesus. Do you remember the Jesus who came with us to Grand Rapids and he had crutches? Remember Jesús? He's from Spain.
Sophia: No, because that's not his name. His name is Jesús, not Jesus.
Me: It's both, honey. His name is Jesús, but we call him Jesus, too...

We'll cherry pick her Jesus theology later, haha.

Impromptu family photo next to the best tasting sweet TC cherries ever!

Jesus, Laura & Sophia, and Flávio

Sophia did not want the picking to end. Thank you, Jesus and Flávio!

The Art of Verbal Diplomacy

After I turn down her request for a second chocolate chip oatmeal cookie, my daughter, riding up on my shoulders, begins to chatter to herself:

"It's not fair."
"Yes, it is fair."
"It's not fair."
"Yes, it is fair."
"No, it's not!"
"Yes, it is."
"It's not fair!"
"Yes, it is fair! What's your problem?"
"I don't know."
"Ok."
"I'm hungry."
"Me, too...."

(She often disagrees with herself, but at least she resolves it diplomatically...)

The Fresh Smell of Nature

While taking a pleasant walk behind the library through Hull Park, I decide to express a deep appreciation for nature for my daughter to imitate:

Me: Ahhh, I smell the fresh air, the lake breeze, the wet grass, and the beautiful flowers. Can you smell it?
Sophia: I smell poop.
Me: Poop?
Sophia: Yes, I smell poop.
Me: Did you go in your pants?
Sophia: No, I didn't poop in my pants....I think Tigey went poop in her pants...

I realize a few minutes later that the wastewater treatment plant is next door to the park.

Me: You're right. I smell poop, too.
Sophia: Yeah, Tigey goes poop in her pants because she's a baby....

Walking the West Bay (photos)

The Secret to a Wonderful Life

Me: Why does Daddy have such a wonderful time with you?

Sophia: I drink water.

She has been drinking lots more water lately. She may be onto something.

Tigey's Death Wish!

The past few days I've noticed a morbid pattern with Sophia's chatter about Tigey, her pink-striped tiger. Whatever I have cautioned her about earlier in the day, Tigey has gone off and done it anyway with dire consequences:

"Tigey tripped and fell down and was crying..."
"Tigey didn't look for cars and got hit..."
"Tigey didn't wear a lifejacket and she fell in the water and she drowned..."
"Tigey died yesterday. (Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.) She's better now..."

Will Tigey ever learn?!...

On Payne Lake (photos)

 Aunt Kat and cousin Asher

At first she was timid about wearing a life jacket, boats and tubing, but she loved it!

Cheesy Love

Me: Mama's home! It's time for a hug sandwich! 
(As I hug Laura, Sophia squeezes in between the two of us.)
Laura: Hey, what are you doing?
Sophia: I'm the cheese!

Birthday Suit Girl

This morning, calling out from the bathtub: 

"I'm ready for my birthday!"

Happy Squeaky Clean 3rd Birthday, Sugar Pie!  : )

Tigey = Trouble!

My daughter and her plush tiger come to our bedroom door:

Me: Do you want breakfast?
Sophia: No.
Me: You don't want breakfast?
Sophia: Tigey wants a naughty breakfast.
Me: What's a naughty breakfast?
Sophia: Chocolate.
Me: Chocolate for breakfast!
Sophia: Pancakes with chocolate chips! Tigey really wants it....

This Tigey friend is going to be trouble....