I'm sure it surprises you all to learn that Sophie wasn't one.bit.timid about breaking away from mom and taking on a new challenge. On the drive to her school the first day, she was about to burst with excitement. When we got to her room, she signed her name on the sign-in sheet, hung her back-pack on her hook, picked up her name badge and walked over to start work at one of the centers. I said, "Oh...okay, Sophs. I'll see you later!" She ran over to (I thought) give me a hug, but instead she motioned for me to lean down. When she was sure she had my full attention, she said, "Listen, mom. Take care of Puppy and be gentle with him. He doesn't like it when you fling him around."
In the car after preschool, Sophie was going on and on about the class pets (two geckos named George and Gracie), the songs, the Vanilla Wafers snack, the kid with the "purple eye from running into the doorknob", the gerbil that visited from Mrs. Somebody's class, the girl who wouldn't stop crying, the art project, the... I jumped in during a moment of breath-taking and said, "Fun! So, what did you learn about?" There was a giant pause and she said, "Um...God?" I asked her to be more specific. Big sigh and then, "...Whew, mom! That's a thinker!"
At home we ran into our neighbors outside. Sarah asked Sophie if she'd made any friends at school. Her response: "Yeah! Lots of 'em! ...And not even imaginary ones!!" (Snort.) Poor America, Ongonk, and Susanna. They've been replaced with friends that aren't invisible.
The next day when I picked her up, we had barely made it out to the car when she announced: "Hey, guess what? Nobody socked me in the stomach at recess, but a boy ate a booger! Right in front of the teacher!"
On Wednesday, Sophie had to take a photo of her family in for show-and-tell. She was supposed to "introduce" us to her class. I asked her what she was going to say. Her response (pointing to each person in the picture): "Well, I'm gonna say my dad's name is Russell and he's a nukey-lar engineer. I'm Sophie - the kid. That's my mom Kristy and she's a... well, I don't know really what she is - she does something at home with the laundry." ~That's as far as she got before my gigantic snort eruption distracted her.
Friday when we were walking to the car at least a dozen little pint-sized gentlemen yelled, "BYE, Sophie!" as we passed. But I noticed nary a girl even looked her direction. When we were buckled in, I asked her why she only talked about the boys in her class - did she ever play with any of the girls? She said (very seriously), "Okay, Mama, here's the deal. I don't hang out with the girls because they make grumpy faces at me. But the boys ALL LOVE ME. They love me so much it would just...blow your mind. See, that's why." I guess I looked a little stunned because she added, "It's okay. Boys are nice. They wanna marry you and stuff."
All righty then. That'll please your father.
And finally, to wrap up last week, Sophie received her first homework assignment. Mrs. Wardle handed me a piece of white posterboard, cut out in a gingerbread man-like form. On it were instructions asking us to help our child "make themselves". It went on to suggest that we "really try to capture his or her personality". (In 2-D form, mind you.) Sophs told me she wanted "herself" to have: a sparkly blue shirt, polka dot pants, "funny shoes", feathers and flowers, googly eyes, and a fuzzy pink boa. (I know you're all just shocked to learn she knew exactly what she wanted! Ahem.) So we drove to Hobby Lobby and I turned her loose in the craft aisle.
After we were finished - and covered in glue, Sophie stood back and said, "Well... I look kind of hideous. But I think it will make Brock laugh."
Oh, goody. One week in and we already seem to have taken the fleet of men and and narrowed it down to one specific crush. Serenity.