Sunday, September 7, 2008


Today, September 7, 2008, Zoe turns one and a half! She gave us a birthday present of a full night sleep, not waking up until 6:50 am. Of course at 6:30 I was awake and imagining the various toys she could have choked on. BUT I SLEPT UNINTERRUPTED UNTIL 6:30!

I’m back after a short break. We’ve been away these last couple of weekends; first to Stinson Beach then up to Healdsburg in the heart of Sonoma wine country. Living in the San Francisco Bay area there are dozens of great places just an hour or two away. Unfortunately there is also almost always traffic, so that hour stretches into two. Zoe hates sitting in traffic almost more than her father (and she is definitely more vocal about it), and can be a terror on the getting-there and going-home parts of these getaways. She probably hates the long drives because she is so filled with energy. She barely tolerates a long hug never mind being strapped down for an hour or more. We try to distract her with snacks and songs and when all else fails we will exit the highway in search of French fries.

We are deep into the uh-oh stage. Every action receives an uh-oh. Sometimes it’s for a legitimate reason; she’s knocks over her sippy cup or drops a toy or slips, but more often the uh-oh will not only be unnecessary but downright inappropriate. Here’s an example.
  • The Scene: Zoe is sitting at the table eating lunch. She is dangling a piece of pasta over the edge of the table.
  • Dad: “Zoe, do not drop the pasta.”
  • Zoe: Looks Dad straight in the face, hand hovering.
  • Dad: “Zoe…”
  • Zoe: Drops the pasta and leans over to see where it has landed. Looks up at Dad and deadpans an uh-oh.
The problem is that she is so damn cute when she says uh-oh that it’s hard to remain stern. She does this other really cute thing that probably saves her from being put up for adoption. Let’s say it’s 2:30 in the morning. She will start to cry in such a way that you know she is not really upset, she just wants you to come in and get her. (The Eskimos have one hundred words for snow; Zoe has one hundred levels of crying). You can try to ignore her but she will just increase the volume until she breaks your will, which really isn’t too hard at 2:30 in the morning. I will storm from the bed, planning on being firm and angry with her, but the moment I open her door she will stop crying and greet me with a cheery ‘hi’. Damn her for being so cute!

At the park recently someone gave Zoe her very first Oreo-style cookie (it was actually a Newman-Os). It looked large in her tiny hand, and after staring at it for a few moments she gripped each cookie side with a hand and separated it into two pieces. She then proceeded to eat the creamy filling first. This leads one to ask the obvious question; are humans genetically hard-wired to eat the center of an Oreo before the cookie part?

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