Dear Sofa/Sofa Dofa/Mamsie,
What a year this has been for you. One of the biggest worries I've had watching you grow up is that you're so close to your brother that you take on a lot of his interests as your own. This last year, however, has seen you really start to explore who you are, what you like (and don't like) and how to be Sophie - which is funny, sweet, sensitive, whip-smart and just an overall joy to be around. Don't get me wrong, you're still likely to let Jake pick the TV, but you make sure that you're watching things you both enjoy (Dude Perfect and Mark Rober are the current favorites!) and it's becoming more likely that Jake will want to watch and play with your things than vice versa. For example, you're big into slimes right now (fortunately we're talking pre-made slimes not the do it yourself kits that you and I can never work out!), and Jake is obsessed with playing with them as much as you are, and you're always gracious enough to let him join you.
This year has seen you develop more robust friendships wherever you go. Your birthday party is always a good gauge for me about your social life, and you had a dozen people you invited who are all good and close friends who you've been talking about all year. It's a testament to your friendship that so many of them made plans on Father's Day to come help you celebrate, though I think the promise of a tie-dye escape room bounce house party was hard to resist! It was another example of you exploring and thinking about what you like and enjoy, and I hope that you see that your mom and I will go to big lengths to help you figure it all out.
On that theme, you've been taking piano lessons now for over a year, to the point where Nana upgraded your keyboard to a weighted keys one just like hers. We do weekly lessons with Miss Mary, and you got to play on a proper baby grand piano at a recital last month which you thought was great fun. You're for sure interested in learning to play and you've got the smarts to learn to read music, but your biggest joy is messing around finding notes that go together (even like last night when you should have been going to bed and you came downstairs to tell me about a melody that you created). This desire to be in charge of your own world and find your own direction is delightful, and I love being your piano buddy and captivated audience.
One of the hardest parts of this independent journey is when things change that I'm not ready for yet, but that I have to put on my brave face because they're your decisions and I want to support you. Two examples come to mind here. We play a lot of soccer, and I've coached you the last two fall seasons and set up some spring soccer in Northwood with your friends. We talked about fall soccer again this year (which would be a travel team), but you've decided you want to try out flag football as some of your friends from school play and made it sound like fun. There's no reason for me not to support this beyond the fact that I'll miss coaching you, and football is a sport I don't know much about, but you can be sure I'll learn and will be there at every practice and game (and you know we'll have a flag football set up in the yard!). The second example is that you want to get your ears pierced, so we've set up an appointment when we get back from our European adventures. Again, I have no reason to say no, and you have friends that have had their ears pierced for ages, so I've got to get over my hesitation that it feels like you're wanting to grow up quickly, and be supportive to learn as much as I can about ear care and how to match studs and earrings to your ever growing sense of fashion.
On the flipside to these fatherhood challenges is the sheer joy of spending time with you. You continue to want to keep everyone happy (though your mom and I have changed tack slightly so instead of putting ourselves in competition to you "who do you want to wash your hair tonight?" we take the decision making mental load off you by presenting an opt-out scenario "dadda is going to wash your hair tonight unless you don't want him to") and you came home with the most cooperative award from your second grade teacher. We are highly conscious of avoiding "good girl syndrome" with you, and we always want to make sure that you know you have the right to your own desires, needs and no's and that they will be listened to and respected.
Your empathic streaks runs as hot as ever. Momma is coming out a few days after us to England, and you're sad about it. What we realized last night is not that you're going to be sad without Momma (let's be honest, you did a week in Florida with Nana and Papa and barely said hello to us!), but that you're worried Momma is going to be sad by herself in the house without you. She's excited to have some quiet time before the travels, so we'll spend today convincing you that everyone wins in this situation!
You're still a goofball, and the sheer number of photos that people take of you pulling a silly face or just being goofy is delightful to see. One of your favorite things to do still is to wrestle with me, whether it's being picked up and thrown on the bed as a way of being woken up in the morning, having me lay (carefully!) on top of you on the couch, or being picked up and dropped down at the lake. You're growing big and tall, so I'll continue to do this until you're too big and my muscles are too weak to do it (or until you don't want me to any more, but I don't see that ending any time soon).
As Nana said to me recently, 8 is the year that you're a bona fide kid; confident, sociable, caring, strong and brave to name just a few of the things I admire about you. This year will be another big year for you in so many ways, and I'll be by your side as you continue your journey of becoming Sophie.
All my love
Dadda
