It's been really windy, dry, and cold here in Valdez the past 3-4 weeks. This morning as I walked from the house door to the car door, I smelled something I haven't smelled since we moved here: static. And it does have a smell. I remember figuring out as a small child what it was, and since then, I've placed it in the group of "smells I dislike the most". It's hard to explain - and Valdez is usually such a wet place, even in the winter - but that moisture has been sucked out of here, leaving us with static. Needless to say, it's been somewhat of a chore to venture outside these days. But I do it, and when Isaac's not at home to keep Sophia inside, she goes with me - all bundled up from head to toe in her stroller. Tuesday was my first day back at work, and one of the first questions Isaac asked her that morning was if she'd like to go outside. "No!" she said. When he asked her why, she said, "Too COLD!" It's really not her fault she has a mother with such a strong desire to go outside everyday, even in this weather.
Last week, we had our second Prenatal Appointment at the clinic. Sophia intently watched as the doctor and a medical student visiting from New York rubbed goo all over my belly with the sonogram machine. It took a while, but they found a heartbeat. One of the most beautiful sounds in the world. I don't think Sophia knew what to listen for, but the steady swish-swish-swishing was there, right between 160 and 170 beats per minute. The doctors left for a few minutes, and immediately, Sophia wanted "Up, up!" onto the examining bed. She lay herself back onto the crunchy paper pillow and sheet, lifted up her shirt all the way to her chin, pointed at the machine they had left on the counter while rubbing her belly, and asked, "Sophia baby tummy?"
She's somehow convinced she has one in there, too. :)
Last night, while we were busily doing our bills on the couch in the living room, Sophia roamed from here to there, playing a little of this and a little of that. Obviously we were a little too entranced in our work because at some point, she was all of a sudden right behind us, sitting in a chair at the table right behind the couch. I had a bowl of fancy "tea chocolates" up there, and Sophia found one that she wanted to open. By the time I saw her with chocolate in hand (she chose dark chocolate - just like her mama would), she already had it unwrapped. "Sophia, what have you got there?" I asked in my I-already-know-what-you-have-so-you-better-just-hand-it-over tone. "Trash," she said, as she, in one smooth movement, handed the wrappers to me with one hand, and popped the chocolate in her mouth with the other.
Let the record show that I did make her throw away her own trash.