Diary-entry daughter update

I was going through some old posts and realized I haven't done a diary-entry daughter update for a while. I like keeping track of their likes and dislikes and where they are emotionally (them and me) and love looking back on them, especially on particularly tough days!

So...here we go!

Sofia...

You are definitely the scorekeeper in the family, with one eye constantly out for wrongdoers or injustices. You are also -- despite that or because of it -- our in-house, curly-head-in-the-clouds poet/songstress/artist, night-time story reader, and inventer. You Love school, all italics with a capital "L". I have never met another soul as curious as you (besides your father), and I think I have chosen it as my favorite thing about you, followed closely by your all-out enthusiasm, adventurous tastebuds, and how easily things just slide off your back, pushed right off with the force of one of your silly belly laughs.

You have never been a "simple" child, but you and I have muddled through the first-born storm together, clinging to each other as we figure it out. You feel 10,000 emotions simultaneously and it's hard - nope, impossible - to tame them, or you, when you are upset or excited or any of the million emotions in between. But the older you get and the more I understand how you tick, the more confident I feel that you are going to be just fine. And that fills me with so much relief and appreciation for you.

Current loves: crafts and handicrafts of any kind, gymnastics, playing with your sister, going out to dinner (especially sushi), playing outside, reading out loud to us in both English (favorite is anything Berenstain Bears right now) and Italian, slipping into bed to go to sleep after a long day, swimming, snuggles from Mommy, fake karate with Papà, laughing, spending time with your entire extended family, travelling, homework (I KNOW!), asking questions, putting on dance "shows", cheesy summer pop music (thanks, camp van), animals.

Current hates: being scolded, practicing piano when you're tired (and thus fighting with Papà), getting bossed around by your sister, getting in trouble for bossing your sister around, injustice, mosquitos, most kinds of cheese, being bored.

I don't know what I'd do without you Sofia...but, mainly, I don't know who I'd be without you. You have taught me so much about what it is to be a good person, a truly kind, patient, and generous person. You test me - sometimes your head is so far up in the clouds that I want to shake you awake - but it mostly comes from my fear that you'll miss something or get hurt. But mainly I am just so proud of who you are becoming, and the older you get, the easier and more interesting it is to talk to you and hear your perspective on things. Thank you, my sweet Peanut, for helping make me the mom, and person, I am today.

Samina...

Our little sneaky monkey! You are the personification of "Sugar and Spice."

People take to you in minutes, and your instant ability to make friends is my favorite aspect of your personality, as well as what I admire most about you. You don't seem to abuse this power either - except with your sister, who you absolutely love to push around - which might just in fact be your unquestionably favorite hobby.

You and I have a very close relationship, and I have to admit that I feel like the Queen of the World when you need some cuddles and cry out for me. And though I joke about it, I think I will miss it when you're older and no longer need to stuff one hand down my shirt, other thumb in your mouth, in order to relax ;)

There are tough sides to you too. Whereas your sister has a very powerful sense of empathy and right and wrong, your favorite pastime is testing boundaries, seeing just how much you can get away with. It's frustrating, but underneath my scolding I also am proud of your rebellious nature.

Your sister is your idol, though you would have to basically be tortured at Abu Ghraib before you would admit it. You miss her when she's not around, and the older you guys get, the more I feel my first place importance in your life fading, while you make room for your sister on that pedestal. As much as I'm nostalgic for it, I couldn't entrust you to a better soul though, so make sure you listen to your sister - she is looking out for you, sometimes even better than I ever could.

Current loves: playing with your baby dolls, playing with your sister, playing outside, sweets of any kind, gymnastics, pretending to read books, story time, cuddling, sucking your thumb, animals, travelling, watching TV, makeup and dress-up, wearing dresses and only dresses, running, teasing your sister, swimming, birthday parties, dancing, doing everything your sister does, spending time with your whole extended family, candy, negotiating, laughing.

Current hates: being scolded, feeling like anyone is laughing at you, having to turn the TV off, getting blamed for something you didn't do, getting bossed around by your sister, feeling out of control, wearing pants, being forced to do anything.

There is no lovelier sound in this house than your laughter, Sami. Your sunny disposition is the cure-all in this family of overthinking philosophers. But underneath that carefree exterior is a keen observer, who says little but hears everything, and stockpiles every thread of information. You are sunshine and joy, with a hint of thunder and a handful of lightning. Your greatest gift to me is what you teach me about the definitions of loyalty and self-love.

Like I tell you every night before you fall asleep: I am so lucky to be your mom, my beautiful girls.
May the world give you everything you've ever dreamed of, and may the hard times always be surmountable. And may you never, ever forget that your Papà and I will always, always, always have your back.

Cultural shift

As our trip starts to wind down, marked by the last day of camp tomorrow and the start of our last week stateside, I can't help but reflect on the past 2 months.

Andrea and I decided a few years ago that it was really important to us that the girls experience life (the culture and language) over here, mainly because one day (who knows!) they may decide they want to go to college in the U.S., but also because it's just so important to us that this part of themselves feels familiar.

And familiar it has become. The other day, Samina walked out of the bathroom singing the hokey pokey, and out of the blue referred to sneakers as "tennis shoes" yesterday. And Sofia...she recently schooled Andrea about what someone's "jam" is. Mix that together with the "van music" (music her van drivers put on for the morning commute), pop tunes ranging from Justin Bieber to Flo Rida, and I believe we have ourselves two mini Americans (ok, mini Italian-Americans to be precise...they still don't like to mix their first and second courses on the same plate).

I am just so proud of them for all of this. The flexibility and open minds, courage and adaptability that they have shown really make me tear up daily. They are remarkable little human beings and I am so glad we have had the opportunity to provide them with this room for growth (thanks mom and dad!) and the chance to spend some quality time with the other parts of their family too, and to make some first-rate memories together (NYC, Woodloch, Sesame Place, and the list goes on...leaving for the shore tomorrow!).

While all 4 of us are looking forward to heading back to our home and the other half of our friends and family, we can only smile at the memories made...and gasp a little bit at how big the girls seem to have gotten under the hot sun and fresh outdoors that their summer camp experience has provided them with.

See you next year, New Jersey!

Samina turns 4

Like every mother before me, I am truly bewildered at the fact that my baby is turning 4.

For our family, Samina represents a sort of Joker in the deck. She almost always wakes up with a smile, but then you never really know what the rest of the day will bring.

Her thoughts and actions are unpredictable - which I am slowly starting to accept as a good thing - though it makes for some stressful parenting at times. She is tigerishly defiant and independent, endearingly mischievous and so, so hysterical.

Her will cannot be bent, unless there is television or some sort of dessert involved. In many ways, she is what the rest of us in the Rossi family lack: pure, uncontaminated rebellion. Yet, she is also passionately loyal and gives the most delicious spontaneous hugs in the universe.

Her current favorites: playing with her sister, jumping on the trampoline, riding on her scooter, being outside, passionately talking to her dolls with a purse swung over her shoulder, chocolate, Night Fury from How to Train Your Dragon, pretty much anything on TV but especially Super Wings and Paw Patrol and (sigh) Dora, accessories, anything sparkly, fancy shoes, lip gloss, tiny objects, skirts that spin when she dances around, music, constant chatter, books, animals, annoying her sister, making people laugh.

You're a handful, Sami, but I hope you never change. I hope your zest for life and your sense of irony follow you always, and that you continue to find irreverent joy in all of life's little details. I am in awe of you, and I envy you, for these traits, and I am so very charmed by the original, loving, clever little person you are turning out to be.

We love you so much, Pookie!

Ti vogliamo un mondo di bene, Always,

Mommy (and Papà and Sofi)

Our papà...

Our papà is always around when we need him.
He makes sure we are safe and fed and happy.
He talks to us and explains even the most complicated concepts in a way we can understand.
He takes the time to listen to what we want to say.
We are the most important people to him, and he shows us that daily.
He gets healthy snacks ready for us, he takes us to the park, he reads to us every night, he buys us surprise presents and organizes fun outings for the family.
He helps Mommy when she is having a bad day and always backs her up, even when she is being a bit over-dramatic.
Our papà thinks it's important that our opinion is heard.
Our papà lets us eat off his plate, even if it drives him crazy.
Our papà isn't afraid to show us affection and gives us hugs and kisses all the time.
He is always trying to set a good example, he always goes to bed thinking about how he can be a better person the next day.
Our papà is involved in our lives and is our fiercest champion.
Our papà knows and loves our friends and always makes them laugh.
Our papà wears shorts even in the coldest months because he doesn't give two figs what anyone has to say about him.
Our papà is the kindest, most generous person in the world.
And we are lucky to have him.

Ti vogliamo bene Papi!

- Sofi, Sami e Mommy <3 p="">

November 16th

November 16th, 2015. Precisely three years and seven months from the day she was born, Samina nursed for the last time. I know the exact date because I'd been watching the clock, so to speak. I'd become aware of the fact that our breastfeeding story was dwindling, and so each rare time she did nurse, I would take mental note of the date. November 16th, 2015. On our couch. Watching an episode of Peppa Pig.

Last night before we went to bed, Sofia asked me if Samina was still nursing. When I said no, that she hadn't for about a month now, Sofia asked me if Samina had cried. I said there really wasn't anything to cry about - I had never told her she had to stop. It was a decision she had for whatever reason come to on her own. Sofia leaned in and asked if my milk was all gone then - way more inquisitively than I would have expected her to be about the whole topic (after three years+, boobs and milk are sort of status quo in our house). Yes, I believe so. I believe all my milk is gone now.

Of course, this is all very bittersweet for me. I see Samina slowly growing up and moving past her newborn needs, including having me and my person, my body, all to herself (though, not to worry, the hand-down-the-shirt syndrome will last until college, I wager). Witnessing our children starting to explore the world autonomously is the most wondrous, most difficult thing we parents have the privelege of experiencing.

Breastfeeding has been extraordinary for me, for Samina - for the entire family, really. The Boob gave me a way to soothe Samina even through those moments when neither of us had any clue what was the matter. We were able to go on numerous trips and do almost unimaginable things with a young baby thanks to knowing we always had a solution on hand. Nursing managed to create a bond between all four of us that won't easily be broken, and it is nearly tangible. Through breastfeeding, we have soothed an infant, comforted a toddler, and normalized intimacy. Super power indeed.

I will miss this special time between us, Samina. But seeing that confident gleam in your eye, I know that I have served you well - and, as moms, there are not many times we have the conviction to say that.

There but for the grace of God, go I

I've been unusually silent these past few days because of the overwhelming noise blasting in my head. The shock of the attacks in Paris have left me reduced to a state I am admittedly not used to: speechless.

What's even harder to handle is the aftermath, as often is the case during such events. The rage. Mine, which as I say has rendered me uncharacteristically speechless. And that of many others, who seem to have taken hold of their fear, cloaked it in anger, and labelled it as righteousness.

I have been silently observing as that raw fear masked as righteousness drowns the internet with unbridled, uncensored hatred. Not your normal dime store variety either, but full-out, "let's cut the PC crap" actual memes recalling our success in Hiroshima.

Fear, as I see it, being used as an excuse to finally be allowed to vilify, categorize, demean, hate, where before that rage was begrudgingly held back.

I'm not alluding to retaliation. Unlike after 9/11 - where I was without a doubt sure attacking Iraq was not the right response - age and motherhood have now made me more aware of how little I know. I don't know what the right answer is and, this time, I am not going to claim to. But that's not what this is about for me right now.

What it is about - what I do know, with every fiber of my being - is that it is wrong to allow our fear to take control of us and close the borders to those souls who are fleeing from the same fuckers we hold with such contempt. For so many reasons, not the least of which because accepting them is precisely the game play that those fuckers are not expecting.

I am writing this as Samina naps behind me in the car. And as I watch her peaceful breathing, I realize that I cannot look at my sleeping child and differentiate between her rights, her safety, her potential and that of that lifeless, 3-year-old body lying face down in the sand. These events have only made me realize, more painfully than ever, that her Fate is out of my hands. That there is one thing and one thing only separating her Fate from that baby's Fate: pure, arbitrary Luck of the draw.

Sometimes you have to open your heart, even when your entire body wants to hate. Sometimes you have to find the Empathy that lies within you and force yourself to imagine a life lived by someone else, someone so similar to you, yet so far away. Even if it goes against everything you think right now, I ask you to just close your eyes and imagine fleeing from your house, your job, your country. See yourself crossing seas on a rubber raft, hiking mile after mile to get to some promised land. And getting there and being turned away. Breathe in that desperation. What would it mean for you and your family?

We have to call upon our Empathy in this moment to lead us. We have to use our Empathy to, first and foremost, seed out the prejudice that lies within ourselves, before we can profess to know what the answers are. Because - and let's never forget this - in the end, Empathy is the one thing that can set us apart from the terrorists.

Happy 6th, Peanut!

My dearest Sofia,

I will never forget the very first moment I laid eyes on you...as the nurse gave me a quick peek at you on her way out of the room to clean you up and give you a check-up. My immediate first thought was: "Of course that's what she looks like."

In the nearly 10 months prior, I had visualized you so many times, though in some vague, generic way. I'd fantasized about what it would feel like to hold you and sing you songs and bring you to the park, but I'd never really been able to picture what you would physically look like. But, there we were, and I took one look at you and realized that, even if I hadn't imagined you, you were exactly as I would have imagined you if I had.

That, my sweet girl, is the very same way I feel about seeing you grow up. Your personality, your silly smile... The way you ask a million questions as soon as we get in the car, how you skip from room to room, hands on your hips, instead of walking. How you take a million years to eat dinner and how you kiss your sister's forehead when she's crying. How you wrinkle your nose up and stomp your feet on the ground when you're angry, how you have a bizarre passion for different sized and shaped pieces of paper. The way you pretend to play the piano while you're falling asleep, the way you continuously sound out words wherever we are, reading whatever sign may be in front of us. How you float back and forth between your two languages, not always smoothly but definitely naturally. How you sweat while you're asleep as if you were running a marathon. How you still can't sit through movies, or even most TV shows, because something about them disturbs you. The way you say sorry when I hurt myself, even if you have nothing to do with it. The unsolicited hugs you have in abundance for all the loves in your life, and there are so many of them, my affectionate little girl.

And as I witness all of these tiny little Sofia details, I can't help but call to mind that exact same phrase I thought when we first met: "Of course that's what she looks like." Everything about you feels just as it should be.

We had a bit of a hard time in the beginning, me and you. Being a first-time mom is rough business, but so is being the first child. But the older you get, the more I see you unfold, the more I enjoy you. Each day brings a new discovery, for you and for me. Thank you for letting me in, for encouraging me to be part of the ride.

Happy 6th (6th!!!????) birthday, Peanut. I love you more than I ever expected I could. May you always continue to be such a perfect version of yourself.

In awe and with love, always,

Mommy