42 Months

Dear Sassy-er-I mean Sophie,

I know that I've dropped the ball on these monthly letters. Every month your month birthday comes along and I have every intention of writing but then time gets away from me. And truthfully there hasn't been to much to report. You are reaching the age where changes are coming gradually. You aren't doing monumental things like walking and talking in complete sentences.

That's not to say you've been boring. You've been anything but boring. You can ask more questions in a 5 minute period than the contestants on an entire episode of Jeopardy. Totally strange and bizarre questions. The other day you must have over heard me talking to someone about a gastro-scope. The next day, I'm pounded with question after question. "Mommy are you going to the doctor to have a camera put in your belly?" "Will they leave the camera in your belly." "If there is a baby in your belly, would the baby see your camera?"

And speaking of babies, I can NOT for the life of me figure out a way to explain to you why you weren't at our wedding. I've just giving up on that one because you end up getting ticked off and yelling at me for not taking you to Puerto Rico. Because didn't I know that you would loooove Puerto Rico! So sue me for not making you a bastard.

We started gymnastics back up this month. We are trying a new gym since the one we went to last year didn't have a class right after I got off work. So far you aren't a fan. You miss your old teachers and the entire place is different. Once you get out on the floor you are in your element and you have a blast. But the entire ride you whine that your belly hurts or that your leg hurts. It's going to be a long winter!

Halloween, my favorite holiday is right around the corner! For months and months you've wanted to be a witch. A witch with a crooked hat and a crooked broom. I found the crooked broom but the crooked hat is causing a problem. I've got 40 days to make you think that crooked hats SUCK and only lame witches wear crooked hats. Where you even got in your mind that a witch costume required a crooked hat and broom is beyond me.

In your 42 month of life you became the co-owner of a puppy. You love her lots. But as I watch you with her I can tell that your love for her is no where near the same as it was for Oscar the Boxer. Stella is like your annoying little sister. Oscar was your protective older brother. I guess both are love but different kinds of love and nothing can change that.

So happy 42 month Sophie B Carr. Next month I'll get this sucker up on time!

Rocking your Mountaineer Leotard! Purchased my yours truly for a whole $8.