Following the Beat of Her Own Drummer

This weekend we went to the long anticipated Sopia’s birthday party.  She’s been talking about Sopia for months.  (Her name is Sophia, but O can’t say her f’s so it’s Sopia with a P.)  Sopia is a baby. Sopia wears diapers. Sopia drinks out of a bottle. Not me. I a big girl. I have real underwear. Sopia cries for me (not true, but let her think it.)  Anyway, on and on she went about Sopia.

Finally Sopia’s party day arrived, and the excitement was PALPABLE in the household.  She wanted to take a nap as soon as she woke up in the morning so she can be ready for Sopia’s party.  She helped me pick out Sopia’s present. She “helped” me wrap it. She helped me carry it to the car, Too heavy, Mommy! She picked her dress.  This one was too big, this one was too small. And finally the pink one fit just right. Then we drove to Sopia’s house. Mommy, is this Sopia’s house? Where is Sopia’s house??  Questions upon questions!

We finally make it to Sophia’s house and the questions stop. She gets distracted by Sopia’s older sister, M, who drags her around the house to show her this and that, and I am free to talk to grown ups!

One of the games at the party, which I will have to steal for O’s party, they played musical chairs. It was the most entertaining game ever!!!  The first round started, and O in her usual non-conformist attitude, walked around the chairs in the opposite direction as the rest of the kids, and she refused to go the other way.  It caused much chaos and laughter from the parents.  The second round, she followed the crowd. The third round, she pretty much claimed her chair while the rest of the kids walked around the chairs.  The fourth round, the kids were so rilled up, that one of the older girls pushed O by accident, and O fell. So it was the end of her playing. When she tried to go back it the game, it was too late as they were already two more rounds into it.

Note to self, have a lot more space around the chairs when doing the game. The videos of the kids playing are fabulous! So funny! I love my little non-conformist!!


About RidgewoodMom

Thirtysomething mom of a baby girl. First and only baby, possibly. First baby amongst my close friends. These are the trials, frustrations and lessons I have learned in raising a single child in New York.
This entry was posted in Funny Maker, No longer a baby, Social Ills and such, Star of the her own movie and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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