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Author Archives: thesockkids
The SockKids Theme Song
Have you heard the SockKids Song? You haven’t?
Click on the image below to hear two different versions (via YouTube). Many thanks to Mike Petrone for organizing the studio time. Click on the image below to listen to the two versions:
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The SockKids Go Dancing
The next title in the SockKids series is: The SOCKKIDS Go Dancing. Wooly, the black dress sock, learns that a new fear can be a wonderful experience.
The SOCKKIDS Go Dancing will be available in e-book form next week on Amazon.com.
The illustrations were skillfully drawn by SugarSnail.
All material and images associated with the SOCKKIDS are copyrighted and trademarked, according to the laws of the United States.
When The SockKids Were Born
That November night was an evening like so many others, cold and dreary. It would end up being extraordinary.
My two daughters, separated by four years and divided on so many subjects, were in perfect disharmony again over another silly issue. One daughter wanted the window down for some fresh air while the other demanded more heat.
I kept my cool for the initial spurt of acrimonious words, offering a compromise by lowering the window halfway. I was more determined to keep my eyes focused straight ahead as our little car navigated the tricky curves of the Southern State Parkway along the south shore of Long Island.
“I’m cold, Daddy,” one daughter said, mechanically pushing the window up, igniting a fierce retaliatory response from my other daughter in the front passenger seat.
“No!” was her reply.
The window slid up and down several times, distracting me as I drove in the left lane.
“Stop!” I finally shouted.
It momentarily quelled the battle. A few seconds later, I heard the window slide down. And up. And down. And up.
By now, rush hour traffic was all around me as I headed back east to go home. I had enough. I reached over to push a button to give me control of the window. I took my eye off the car in the middle lane next to me and in that split second he crossed in front of me.
I stopped short and my left tire hit the narrow barrier. The car bounced up and down like a rubber ball, then spun around 360 degrees. It felt like we were in slow motion. I felt a momentary sense of relief as I could feel two tires in the back settle down. Yet, we spun around again 360 degrees. I remember thinking, “Oh my God, I’m going to hit someone and hurt them. Oh my God.”
It’s safe to say now during this brief moment I was preparing myself to die so I let my body relax. But it was only for a second or two. I fought to regain control of the bouncing car and steered it away from traffic and into the median on the left. The car darted off the highway and into brush, speeding toward a group of trees as I pressed hard on the brake.
My oldest turned around and said to her sister, “I love you.”
She then said to me, “I love you, Daddy.”
I kept pressing on the brake as the brush and branches scraped and battered the frame of the car. We came skidding to a stop, banging into a tree. The car was smashed in but we were unharmed. I made sure everyone was fine and sat there for a few minutes. I got back on the highway and drove home – in silence. No one asked to put the window up or down.
I walked in silence and went upstairs, turned off the bedroom light, laid down, and cried. Some tears were from fear, fear that I could have been the reason why my daughters never got to live through their childhoods. There were tears of joy, thankful for this “miracle.” There were tears of gratitude, too. I was grateful that I would have more days and memories with my daughters.
Grateful. Grateful to still be here and able to hug and tell my daughters, “I love you.”
I reflected back on that night many times and wondered what have I done wrong that these two beautiful people in my life can’t see how terrific their relationship can be. Sisters and brothers should always have great friendships.
I spoke about that moment a couple of years later during supper on a hot summer day. We were sitting down at a dining room table after a barbecue when I began my thoughts, remembering the instant my oldest told my youngest, she loved her.
Perhaps embarrassed, both of them diverted my thoughts again, this time making fun of my socks, mismatched as they were on this August afternoon. We started to laugh. Then another miracle happened. I saw some sighs from my daughters that they were actually enjoying each other’s company – at my expense.
I was fine with this situation.
I let them tease me some more. I gave them a big grin. Then I started thinking. Wait. Where do my missing socks go? What happens to them? Are they runaway socks? Do they seek other humans’ feet to warm? Could they time travel?
The laughter continued while my mind raced. While ideas were percolating, I still never left this sweet moment, relishing the smiles on their faces.
They were inspiring me.
Both of my daughters.
Together.
I started to draw up the concept inside my head. The excitement was building that I had something special to share with adults and children.
I looked down at my socks for a brief moment and whispered, “Why, thank you, my friends.”
I waited for the laughter to die down before I gave them both my gratitude.
They looked at each other with puzzled looks.
“Why?” asked my youngest.
“For showing me that remembering a tough moment can lead to a special one.”
On August 6th of every year, I wear mismatched socks to celebrate our extraordinary day, the day where my daughters enjoyed each other’s company and the moment the SockKids were born.
I hope they notice my mismatched socks more often.
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We’re All Faking It
I dropped the kid off at a friend’s house yesterday and stayed a few minutes to chat with the mom, my friend L. It’s one of those fortunate instances where the mom and I became friends when our daughters were about 10 months old but our children actually grew up to like each other. Granted, we threw them together on a regular basis so we could hang out and they had no choice in the matter, but giving toddlers narrow choices is part of the fun of parenthood. The girls parallel played for a few years and then discovered they enjoyed playing together. They’re both quieter, thoughtful kids who like a lot of the same things, so it’s not surprising they’ve chosen to be friends, but it’s nice all the same.
While L. and I stood on her driveway chatting, a couple of the neighbor kids came over and said hello before all of the kids–mine, hers, the neighbors–went off to play together. Just for an instant, I had this sudden flash of seeing myself as these kids must see me: as somebody’s mom, as just another adult.
A grown-up.
After the kids had all gone off, leaving the two mothers alone on the driveway, I said to L. “They think we’re grown-ups.”
“I know. I feel like I’m pretending,” she replied.
“Me too. All the time.”
I’ve had similar conversations with other friends at various times (those moments when you think, “We’re sitting around talking about mortgages and our dental health while our kids play–has it really come to this?”). Most of the parents–heck, most of the chronological adults I know–have had similar moments of feeling that they’re totally faking this whole responsible adult thing. I remember my mom visiting with the mom of the kids who lived behind us (they really would chat over the back fence). They seemed so together, so responsible, and so comfortable with themselves as, well, grown-ups. It astonishes me that I might possibly come off the same way to my kid and her friends.
But I guess I do.
I”m a grownup. I’m still the mom who jumps in the pool along with the kids, climbs the monkey bars, and stood on her head at a Girl Scout meeting. It’s a different take on adulthood than my mom had, but it seems to be working. Maybe this is what adulthood is supposed to feel like: You feel the same as you did when you were younger only with an overlay of shock that a bank would loan you enough money to buy a house or people at the grocery store call you “Ma’am.” We’re faking it, but we’re making it.
–by Susan Petrone
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged adulthood, faking it, parent, parents, sock kids, SockKids, you're an adult now
The SOCKKIDS Meet Lincoln
It is with great excitement we announce that our first book is ready to be sent to the production company. The SOCKKIDS Meet Lincoln was written by Michael John Sullivan and Susan Petrone. It was illustrated by SugarSnail.
The book contains 23 illustrations and features the white tube sock with blue coloring, Stretch as he timetravels back to the days of Lincoln. We will post when the book is available to purchase. Thanks to everyone for their support!
Of Bicycles and Inspiring Cliches
I believe that bicycles are the most perfect form of transportation ever invented. While my husband isn’t a cyclist, I’m pleased that my seven-year-old daughter shares my love of two wheels. When she first mastered a two-wheeler sans training wheels, she rode around and around a big empty parking lot, yelling “I love biking!” There’s a lot to love about a bike. It’s the first vehicle most of us ever get to drive, our first taste of genuine autonomy. Walking and running are fine, but a bicycle can take you somewhere.
We have a trail-a-bike that attaches to the seat of my bike and turns it into a tandem. The kid is a great stoker. Sometimes when we’re out on the tandem she’ll say, “Mommy, stop pedaling,” and when I do, I can feel her little legs pedaling away, carrying both of us.
Most the time we attach the trail-a-bike to my old hybrid bicycle and just tool around the neighborhood or go to the swimming pool or to get ice cream. Last summer, we did our first organized ride–a 15-mile ride sponsored by a local university. For that, we hooked the trail-a-bike up to my road bike and we flew. When the ride was over, the kid wasn’t even tired. This year, we went for a bigger challenge. The local JCC held its first community bike ride and festival. The ride lengths were 10, 25, or 50 miles. The kid wanted to do the 25-miler. And while I’ll routinely do 25 or 30 miles on my own, I wasn’t sure she was up to the distance and the somewhat hilly route. We settled on biking the 6 miles to the JCC, doing the 10-miler, and biking home.
The morning of the ride, we had a nice breakfast with my husband before he went to an all-day golf outing and had a little time to play before we dressed and got our things together. We put on our helmets and pulled the tandem out of the mud room and onto the driveway. Then I looked at the front tire. I had pumped up the tires on the tandem the night before, but somehow, between then and the morning, the front tire had gone flat. I said a bad word.
“You owe me a quarter,” the kid said. Giving her a quarter each time I say a bad word in front of her was supposed to curb my potty mouth, but all it’s really done is give her something of a nest egg to buy art supplies.
“Yes, I know,” I replied. “I’ll give it to you later. I glanced at the clock on the cycle computer. It was 9:00 a.m. “Okay, it’ll take us about 25 or 30 minutes to bike there. The ride starts at 10:00, so if I can change this tire fast, we’ll be fine.” The kid looked at me with one of those all-trusting expressions that makes me feel completely inadequate to her vision of what I am capable and said, “Okay, Mommy.”
You know how sometimes events conspire to make you think perhaps the universe is trying to give you a message? I had one of those moments as I started changing the tire and felt the first rain drop.
“Do you really want to do this ride?” I asked.
“Yes, I want to do it.”
“Have you noticed that it’s kind of raining?”
“I like the rain.”
We (okay, I) got the tire changed and pumped up. We set off as it started to rain harder. After a couple of blocks, it hadn’t let up. I wasn’t feeling the joy of the ride. Not at all.
“Why are we doing this again?” I called over my shoulder.
“Because I want to!”
More rain, a slight uphill, then a little voice from the back of the bike said, “If we believe in ourselves, we can make it.”
In my youth, I watched a lot of television. The number of hours I spent watching crappy Saturday morning kids’ shows and After School Specials and made-for-TV movies is roughly equivalent to the amount of time needed to earn a bachelor’s degree . Enough that hearing a character utter the words “If we believe in ourselves, we can make it” would make me roll my eyes and wonder why they couldn’t find a a screenwriter who didn’t deal in cliches. But hearing those words come out of my child’s mouth as she’s happily stoking away on the back of the tandem, uphill, in the rain? When she said that, the rain stopped, the sun came out, the pavement became smooth and unblemished beneath our tires, and it was downhill both ways.
Okay, none of that happened. What did happen was in that moment, I realized that I don’t always have to be the cheerleader. As a parent, especially as a mother, I sometimes feel that there’s an unwritten law that says Mom needs to keep the peace, keep everyone’s spirits up, and yeah, make dinner and clean up when it’s all over. And sometimes you don’t feel like doing that, just like sometimes you don’t feel like changing a tire and biking in the rain. I realized that I don’t have to do everything. And I realized how fortunate I was to be riding uphill, in the rain, and feeling her pedaling away behind me, pushing both of us forward.
–by Susan Petrone
Posted in mothers and daughters
Tagged biking with kids, kid wisdom, mothers and daughters, sock kids, SockKids
Sudsy Interviews An Angel
Pippy’s Wish, written by Maddie Ryan, has become one of the most popular children’s book. Michael John Sullivan has written a review at Amazon.com if you wish to explore the angel world some more. has some questions for Pippy.
Sudsy, one of the SockKids, recently interviewed Pippy about her adventures.
Sudsy: Are you really an angel? I’ve never met one before.
Pippy: Well, right now, I’m an Angel-in-Training because I’m in Junior High, but once I get to High School I’ll be a full fledged Angel and hang out with all the cool flyers.
And you sure have met one or two, maybe even three or four before, only you were probably too busy to notice. You see…I have to stop and concentrate for a minute so I can remember everything I was taught when talking to humans. Wait, you’re not human, you’re a sock, but you talk, so that’s okay, it can apply to talking socks. At least I’m pretty sure it does. I talk to animals and fairies so I’m thinking socks….by the way you have a funny name.
Anyway, in case you haven’t noticed, sometimes I have trouble staying on one topic and I also sometimes have trouble remembering what Lucy…I mean Counselor Lucinda teaches us in class.
Okay, so you want to know if I’m a real Angel? Right? Right.
See, Angels are pure love…not like, I love cupcakes love, or in your case, I love soap-candy love, but love, like in your heart and in your soul. Angels have lots of energy…especially me, at least that’s what I’m told.
I…I mean some Angles can be a bit mischievous, and sometimes, because I…I mean they want to fix things or make things better, but sometimes not everything goes off as planned. Not that this happens to me a lot…actually, I best be in honest…because Angels are pure and honest….yes, it has happened to me.
But please understand I…I mean we don’t mess things up to hurt or cause harm, it’s because I…I mean we are still learning. We are always learning every day and even if we throw a curve ball…by the way, I can play baseball and hockey too…okay, back to what I was saying…even if we throw someone a curve in their life this helps humans deal with all sorts of things in life, and accept things and nudge them to work harder and so they be light…you know, shiny and smiley and loving.
And am I talking too much? Sometimes I tend to go off in all different directions, you can just tell me when I’m doing that or better yet, you better ask another question before something else pops in my head and I go in a different direction.
Sudsy: Can you fly? If so, where do you fly to? Can you fly anywhere?
Pippy: Yes and no and maybe. You see, I sort of can fly with my supersonic skateboard that I invented, but sometimes it doesn’t work as well as it should, and we’re not really supposed to take the skateboard to flying class. I’m learning and hope to earn my teen-Angel wings at graduation real soon and when I do….woo wee…yahoo! Yes, I will be able to fly anywhere.
Sudsy: How old are you? When’s your stitchday? Um, birthday.
Pippy: In human years, I am 12 years old. We’re not stitched, silly-socky, we are created out of energy, light, love and lots of guidance from the other angels that have been hanging around for lots of years. We don’t celebrate birthdays, but we sure love angel food cake, and we celebrate all the children’s birthday’s everyday with lots of smiles and jumping inside their dreams so they can have peaceful sleeps.
Sudsy: Do you have a mom and dad? What are their names?
Pippy: We have counselors, and teachers and Angels are all friends in a special way that makes us one big family.
Sudsy: Do you have a human to take care of like us? We get to warm smelly feet. What about you?
Pippy: Once an Angel graduates to High School then that Angel not only can fly and I mean, super-cool flying, we have to wait to learn more lessons to be assigned a charge to take care. As for me, well, you’ll have to read my story in Pippy’s Wish to find out if I ever make it that far.
Don’t worry, Sudsy, I promise, when ever I graduate and get a few charges to take care of, I’ll make sure they wash with pretty smelling soap so their toes will smell heavenly….get it? Heavenly? Then you can warm lilac or peach smelling feet instead of smelly ones.Sudsy: I like to put bugs on humans’ legs. What do you do for fun?
Pippy: I have so many things I do for fun, that sometimes turn into me doing extra chores, because they weren’t so fun for the misadventures I get into, and you’ll have to read Pippy’s Wish to find out what happens.
Sudsy: We get to spin around in a big washer. Do you swim?
Pippy: Never been in the water yet, I’m still trying to keep my head above the clouds without falling off my skateboard. I’m late for flying class a lot, which is why I haven’t mastered it yet. But maybe someday I’ll fly by a mermaid and she can show me how to catch a big wave and go surfacing and deep sea diving to visit her home and see all the ocean beauty way below…actually, maybe I should just stick to learning how to swim first.
Sudsy: What makes an angel special?
Pippy: Wow, Sudsy, you ask hard questions. Let me think. Well, there’s cake and pasta and songs named after us, so I think there is just so many special things about us, we are funny, cute at least I think so, we accept everyone because in our eyes everyone has something good and beautiful about them, and we try real hard to make people’s frowns turn upside down and give them hope when it looks like things are not that hopeful. We do lots of good stuff.Sudsy: Can you have playtime with me? Take me flying?
Pippy: When I’m not in class, that would a lot of fun. I can introduce you to my good friend Noah St. John. He’s so much fun and can help us both with our flying lessons. Then we can play at your place, where you can show me how to spin.
Thank you for visiting with me, Sudsy, you’re cool for a talking sock.
The SOCKKIDS 