Soph is way into the imaginary friend thing. I mean, she has one, but we don't stop there, not by a long shot. (I'm not making any of the following up. It's all straight out of the mouth of Soph.)
Meet Soph's imaginary friend's brother. He's a cross dresser. I'm serious. Soph tells me all the time about how he's always putting on her princess dress-ups. It really pisses her off. His favorite is the Cinderella costume. He puts it on and "dances around all silly." He also likes to wear my make-up.
Also, a week or two ago, she was having a huge fight in the front yard. By herself, I thought. Upon further investigation, though, I found out that she was having a fight with Addison's (a school friend) imaginary friend. Yes. Her real friend's imaginary friend had stopped by--without her real counterpart-- and royally pissed of Soph in some way or another.
Her imaginary friend also has a grandfather who has a hot air balloon and a cat who is black and white and pink and her name is Mrs. Pink-scootles Jorgensen.
This is just the tip of the imaginary ice berg. We've heard of imaginary cousins, teachers, and even once an imaginary hamster.
Sometimes I worry a bit. It seems to me that there's a fine line between imaginary friends and, um psychosis. Hopefully, she's ok and just really imaginative--not having visions of ghosts or other scary-ish things.
I've been feeling pretty run-down the last few weeks. Obviously the blog has been sliding, as have other unimportant things like personal hygiene, correcting papers, and grocery shopping. However, the sun did come out today, so maybe after charging my solar batteries a bit I'll bounce back.
I've said it before, but I am a solar powered person with no battery back-ups. I actually get pretty annoying in my longing for summer. It's a repetitive tune, I know, but I can't help but sing it. I need the sun. It's a yearning that I feel very, very deeply.
So ends the "guess I better post" post. Hopefully next time I'll have something like, oh, a central threat of meaning, and maybe even a point.
Today's best thing about being a mom:
Today I was the proud recipient of my first tinker-toy flower. Sweet.
Today's worst thing about being a mom:
She busted into the girl scout cookies and spilled a WHOLE BOX of Thin Mints on the floor. But fuck it--we're eating them anyway.