6th grade going on college

It's amazing what a little hair wave will do. Looking so mature in this school picture for 6th grade.

A Ball Gown for the Gala

Ballroom dance has opened up Sofia's world tremendously this past year. To celebrate, I had to make her a proper ball gown for the End of Year Legacy Dance Studio Gala. She could have worn another pretty dress in her closet, but who knows when you'll get the opportunity to attend a gala again, right.
It's so nice to see her looking so fresh and pretty. I think it was worth it, even if she only wears it once. 

Operation Pond Cleanup

?

My own personal hillbilly

First lose tooth on the top.

She don't mess around with no jump roping

And to think the neighbor boy down the street didn't want to play with you because you're a girl!

Go back to your Ken dolls, boy.

Javelin Throw ...

... and Alexander the Great. Current obsessions.

This outfit is not accidental. It is her official warrior outfit. After several suggestions, this is the only kind of javelin I would allow her to wield.

What a cutie



[Hat: Janie and Jack, top: Land's End, pants: home-made Ottobre; shoes: Saltwater Sandals]

Repurposing

--one of Sofia's many talents.

You too can save your avocado bags and donate them to the many housewives in need of hair nets.  It would make a wonderful service project.

Truth be told though, I think Sofia thought it more of some kind of fierce head dress.
[Disclaimer: This is not an obsene gesture. Obviously.  But if you are a middle-aged man whose name may start with an 'R', and with your head in the gutter at all times, you may and are welcome to take it this way.]

Princess Sofia

I wish Sofia could look like this every morning at breakfast. 

I also wish we lived in Europe.

Cello and Skin

Today, we returned the rental cello from Sofia's brief orchestra career. It was so brief, in fact, I realized I hadn't taken any pictures of her with it. Probably because I was waiting for her to get better at it so I could post a short video. She started lessons, once a week, at school in January. She insisted on the cello and not a violin like everyone else, of course. I warned her a cello was great but it was a lot heavier to carry than a violin, and I sure as %#&& wasn't going to be carrying it for her. I teach, cook, clean, plan, discipline, chauffeur, but I do not carry stuff for you!
 
She never really got that much into it. She insisted, she enjoyed cello class, but she wanted me to nag her to practice and I already do WAY too much nagging as it is, so again -wasn't going to do it. So goodbye cello. Maybe we'll see you again in a few years.

***No, Sofia has not had the chicken pox. (There's a vaccine for that). The red specks on her skin are from picking. Picking bumps I guess. There's no mosquito bites either. She's been doing this rather obsessively at night. I rarely see her do it otherwise. I only know it happens at night, because her crisp, white, Martha Stewart sheets have revealed it. This could be a side effect of one of her ADHD medications. It's hard to say. So far, I have found no deterrent. Hopefully, it doesn't get worse because I'm getting sick of airbrushing them off of her "nice" photos and I've given up on the sheets.

Picky eater disorder

On our recent vacation.  I try to present
her with new options.

I am officially diagnosing Sofia with picky eater disorder. Over the past eight months or so, she has slowly been dropping foods that she can no longer tolerate eating. It drives me crazy, while I simultaneously can completely empathize with her psychotic behavior towards food. Sadly, I was almost the same way, and it's only taken about a quarter of a century for my picky eating behavior to improve. So, extreme picky eating, I learned by watching TV, has finally been found to be an actual disorder. I think it has ties to Sensory Processing Disorder and a genetically linked, acute oversensitivity to taste. (I suspect there is also a connection to one of the ADHD meds she started at about this time). OK, so I wasn't so crazy after all. But although, I understand, first hand, I really do, I can't allow her to end up on TV for only being able to eat french fries and Fanta.

No problems with this food.  Surprise, surpirse.

Sofia was a ravenous eater from the moment she was born. Correction -before she was born. I could feel her sucking the life out of me even while in the womb. She LOVED food from the first baby spoonful of rice cereal. Her sucking reflex did not get in the way of devouring that baby food. She was also a fast and therefore, relative neat eater. Anything I put in front of her was gone in minutes. Fast forward to now, a food that was yummy two days ago, may no longer be palatable today to the point of serious distress just at the mere though of having to ingest it. It infuriates me and I totally get it. I was the most complacent child on the planet, I never gave my parents any problems, I never disobeyed. Yes, never -except when it came to eating. I didn't care what the consequence could have been, I couldn't imagine a worse fate than eating something that for whatever reason struck me as inedible by me. That was the one point on which I never gave in.

Reaction upon seeing that the empanada was made with black
beans instead of ground beef.  I knew she'd like it anyway.
It took about 30 min. for her to try it, 10 more for her to eat
a real bite.  She liked it.  But only after the demon had been
exorcised from her body.

I've tried various methods to get her to eat, all of which have been largely unsuccessful. Dinner is the hardest time. So I try to make sure she gets all the nourishment she needs by supplementing with protein-fruit-veggie and magic sprinkles (ground flax seed) smoothies. Even these have started to cross over to the no eat list. My most recent effort -home made Larabars and even protein balls. These are packed with raw ingredients such as dried fruit, nuts, protein, and healthy grains. They're new, so right now she's loving them.

Today, for dinner, my favorite meal -lamb, mashed potatoes (golden), and asparagus. Simple, the meat is soft, the vegetable -I figure if I can eat it, anyone can eat it. Sofia still likes artichokes and asparagus is kind of in the same family, which is a point that has no effect on her. But, I still have high hopes for the success of this meal. I put lots of meat juice (au juice if your French) on her plate to make the meat more bearable. I even made her mash potatoes into a tiny volcano with it. She eats the mashed potatoes, no problem. She's iffy about the meat. She starts to negotiate. I don't negotiate (usually). "I will only eat the soft parts of the meat but not the hard parts." I say, "Good. It's all soft." It could go either way, if she just tastes it, I know the flavor will win her over. She does, she doesn't admit it at first, because she doesn't want to believe it, but she likes it. She eats it all. Now, for the asparagus. She knows she's really close to earning a Privilege Pass (Accountable Kids -they get these for having good manners and eating well at dinner. They don't get these much). This is when, she politely asks, "Mom, may I be excused to go get a blindfold". At first, I'm like "What?". Then, "Yes". Success.

It is ridiculous how much these things come to mean in our daily lives. One day, again, they won't mean anything at all, but today it made me happy.

Applying herself

Swam with the dolphin.
Read the book.
Watched the movie.
Made the dolphin rescue apparatus.

I love to see this happen.  It sure beats whining, running around the house squealing, and whining.

(I even wasn't too mad, when she cut my expensive wool felt fabric to make part of the dolphin stretcher.)

Defiance

The first significant act of defiance. Retribution. Rebellion.

Oh oh. I wonder what comes next.  And when.

Sofia-isms

There is something about riding in the car that really allows a person to come up with some remarkably poignant thoughts --

After picking Sofia up from school (which happens to be dangerously close to ...)

Me:    "Sofia, we need to stop by Costco today."

Sofia:  "OK, Mom."
              "But, do we need to stop by the Mormon Temple?"

Me:     "No, we don't need to go to the Mormon Temple today."

Sofia:  "Right.  Because we're not Mormon."

Me:     "Yup, we're not Mormon."

Sofia:  "That's because we're Mexicans, I guess."

[At this point I would like to insert a picture from Condorito, a comic book from Chile, where Condorito says something so smashing that the punch line literally knocks the other person head over heels].

Uh .... ?

Apparently, Sofia has moved to the Bronx and I just don't know it yet?

Running Away For A Dollar

On this very fine morning after breakfast, Sofia decided her dissatisfaction with this family had come to a head and it was necessary for her to leave and explore her options on her own.  Marcelo quickly joined her and they set out to run away.  They would take their bikes.  Luckily, they dressed for the cold.  They collected all the dollars they could find.  Nine. And, they planned their first stop at Costco where they would buy strawberry jam. 

On the way out, Peter is standing in the way.  Sofia turns to me and says, "Mom.  I mean, NOT Mom.  Can you get your son".  It was all I could do to remain serious in this most devastating moment.

After rummaging through the garage for about half an hour, they opened the garage door and started out. Ironically, Sofia is on her bike with no helmet.  Marcelo has helmet and no bike. Apparently changing their mind about Costco, and heading the opposite way (our normal walking/biking route) instead of the big dip with no sidewalk.  Maybe the courage started dwindling or some common sense set in.

As soon as they made it past visibility, I had to send Ray out to retrieve them.  They were found around the corner, headed to knock on some one's door.  Their plan: to sell themselves for one dollar.

Hmn. On the one hand they weren't just going to give themselves away. But, it's not like they were going to make much either.  I think they must of thought this was just the right way of going about selling yourselves into slavery or something, even if no one was selling you.

And here they are, coming back, fairly disgruntled with life and the holiday season?

Halloween '11

So last year, I had a silly list of things I felt nostalgically guilty about Sofia missing out on as a result of not going to public school. Among them were that she wouldn't get to buy a cute backpack, go back-to-school clothes shopping, and participate in the school Halloween parade. Well, not only have more serious concerns been completely abated by her and my experience with public school this year, but my silly ones have as well. There was no Halloween parade or any Halloween festivities allowed at school.

This year, I wasn't to creative about costumes, so I decided to recycle the old chickens I made for Sofia and Marcelo a few years ago, and use them on Marcelo and Peter this time around. I wasn't sure what Sofia would be. If I left it up to her, it would be something different each day up until Halloween and I don't need that kind of drama in my life. So I thought, she'd just be sort of a circus gypsy, because I figured we could throw that together with some things from her own closet. At the last minute, I got a sale e-mail from PBK and instead of deleting it like I customarily do, I found a cute, and easy-to-wear wolf costume on sale with free shipping in the right size! I love it when these things happen. I thought it would be cute with the chickens. Not being sure it would get here in time, I didn't mention it to Sofia. Luckily, it arrived just in time. Sofia loved it as, unknown to me, she was on a wolf kick that week after watching some wolf movie on Netflix. She wore it the very day it arrived on a family trip to the mall with her brown leather riding boots. Very stylish. She got compliments in every store.

Later that night, she thoughtfully asked me if a wolf had to be killed to make this costume. At first, I was taken aback by the ridiculousness of this question paired with her unexpected naivety. But then, I realized her question did make some sense and I appreciated the fact that for a moment she had stopped to ponder such a poignant question.

Painted Horse

A couple of weeks ago, I was welcomed, as I came down to make breakfast by Sofia and Marcelo enthusiastically declaring that there were wild horses in our backyard. I'm not a morning person so I felt the need to immediately put a stop to such nonsense, "No, of course there aren't any horses in our backyard. What are you talking about!". They insisted and insisted, and when Sofia stammered through her excitement and clarified that they really were on the other side of the fence. I thought I better go look.

Yup, there were two horses in the previously empty field behind our back yard. Needless to say, Sofia was very excited about this development. At least a few times a week, she'll report where they are and what they're doing. A few days ago, she declared there was another wild horse, a painted horse just like "Pony", one of her beloved stuffed animals, that had joined the other two.

Last night, she couldn't go to sleep, I went in to check on her and asked her what she was writing in her little notebook. She told me, quite seriously as she looked out in the distance through her bedroom window, that she had been considering hopping over the fence and riding the painted horse.

[Ensue visions of The Black Stallion] I didn't know what to say. My jerk reaction was to squash her spirit and inform her of the dangers of trying to climb over a six foot fence which is followed by another chain link, six foot fence and then attempting to ride a "wild" horse, especially with no saddle!!! But I just said nothing. Let sleeping dogs lie.  Hopefully, she doesn't actually try to do it.

Rainbow folklore

According to Sofia, there is not a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, but actually what it is is -if you can catch the leprechaun at the end of the rainbow, THEN you get a pot of gold (like a reward, I think). Every time we see one, I have to make an excuse why we can't drive there so she can catch the leprechaun.