This and That

Zoe does not like any fiddling above her neck, which is why she loses hats. She screams when we wash her face or hair. She twists like a contortionist when I try to put in a barrette or simply try to push her hair out of her eyes. You’d think I was using sandpaper when I wipe her nose with a tissue. And she acts like I am spreading acid on her when I dab her cute little nose with sunscreen. Since I know I am not getting good coverage with the sunscreen, I insist that she wear a hat. Well, she doesn’t like hats either and will almost always fling hers off at some point. She has also has decided that she does not like to recline in her jogging stroller so I allow her to perch up on the edge of the seat (which in turn covers the warning not to do that). But sitting up like that I can’t strap her in (hence the warning). I also can’t close the sunshade because it would hit her in the head and—more importantly—it would block my view of her. Since she periodically decides she is going to climb out while we are rolling down the street I really need to be able to see her. Long story short, I require that she wear her hat if she wants to sit up (as if she listens to reason). However, she has a little David Blaine in her and no matter how closely I’m watching she can make that hat disappear. There goes another hat.

I used to require privacy when I used the bathroom. I believe that as a species we have advanced beyond the indignities of performing our business in front of whomever is walking or standing by at that particular moment, except at major sporting events, where urinating into a trough alongside a dozen other men stands alongside beer and hotdogs as part of the experience. However, at home I still like a closed door. Zoe, however, does not like to be left alone and does not like closed doors (and would probably dismantle the linen closet if I left her alone for thirty seconds). So she joins me and tries her hardest to distract me from the business at hand [sic]. If I am standing she likes to watch the flow, and sometimes wants to see what it feels like, so I twist and turn and use my knees to block her. Or she decides to slam the lid down, or try a quick feint around my back to unroll the toilet paper. And there is always the question about what happens to bath toys when they are thrown in. If I am sitting the game is to see how many bath toys will fit into my lowered drawers, and it’s still fun to unwind the toilet paper, and try to close the lid, which just whacks against my back. Oh, and she’s learning how to flush, so why not just do that a dozen times. When Alison gets home I’ll sometimes disappear into the bathroom for a little while. I’m just enjoying the solitude.

See photos of Zoe at http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Father's Day II

This past Sunday was Father’s Day (FD), my second (as a father). I now have two FD credits to my name; FD credits can be redeemed once the child is an adult. A FD credit will allow the parent, me, to tell the child how to do something without getting the response, “Dad, I’m an adult now and I know what I’m doing,” or some other such nonsense. Last FD Zoe was not even rolling over and Alison had just started back at work after her maternity leave. This year Zoe is practically running and Alison had to work all day (and night), but Grandma was visiting so we all went into the city (San Francisco) to run around the Yerba Buena Gardens playground, visit the new Contemporary Jewish Museum, and grab some of the best barbecue in the city at Memphis Minnies over on hip (hippy) Haight Street. Zoe behaved like a little angel all day, although she did throw-up onto my bare chest around three in the morning.

I wanted to use this FD blog to try to express some of the more subtle changes we are seeing. Probably the most obvious (can obvious be subtle?) is her walking, almost imperceptibly improving each day so that now she is just about running, where it seems, to me, like she just learned how to walk. She is able to identify objects with correct responses, less by chance as they were before. And she is learning new tricks such as holding her own cup and drinking from a straw. But there are other changes that are harder to identify, subtle shifts in her perception of the things around her. She is more likely to respond correctly when I ask her to do something, such as, "Hold tight with two hands," or, “Bring me the block.” She is also learning the subtle art of selective listening. For example, requests (commands) such as, “Please don’t put your hand in the glass,” or, “Don’t throw your food on the floor,” will most likely be ignored if she feels like doing one of those things. It’s not that she doesn’t know what I’m asking of her, she just chooses to ignore me.

She has been trying to figure things out, such as the workings of her ‘latch’ puzzle, which has various do-dads that need to be opened and closed. Previously she would just whack it with another toy to hear it rattle. And then there is the ubiquitous head shake ‘no’ that has become frequent and emphatic (and is also used when she means yes). She is not yet speaking, but is making (or trying to make) more animal sounds and making sounds that could very well be words (if you listen closely and know the context). She seems to know what I am talking about when I tell or ask her something or point something out to her. And the other day she looked at a drawing and made a dog sound. There was no dog in the picture, but when I looked closely I could see that the abstract shapes in the drawing resembled a dog. She already has what it takes to be an art theorist, or at least a psychiatric patient.

See photos of Zoe at http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Innng!

It’s sort of funny what you can get away with, with kids. Early this week I made pulled pork in the slow cooker (for Zoe, or course). I heated some up for lunch, and after Zoe ate I stood in the kitchen finishing what was left from the plate (which, along with the savory pork, had an ample amount of barbequey cooking juice). She was playing at my feet and started fishing around the cats bowl. I leaned down to take the bowl away from her and in the process spilled the barbequey cooking juice onto her head and down the back of her shirt. She barely flinched, and only became upset when I attempted to clean her hair with a wet paper towel. I’m happy to report that even after a shampooing she still retained the pleasant scent of pork and barbeque.

Last week I ended my blog with a note that Zoe was now drinking from a sippy cup all on her own. I was going add a little comment that the next step would be to teach her how to drink from a straw, which not only required that she not tip the cup but that she suck, a concept that is hard to teach. I instead ended with a ‘witty’ comment about peas on the floor. Well, before I even went to press, Zoe and I were out for a walk and stopped at a Jamba Juice for a refreshing and tasty treat. I usually spoon-feed her the smoothie but this time I handed Zoe the cup (mostly because my hands were full and she was reaching up and yelling, “Innng, innng, innng,” which means everything from ‘I want’ to ‘we’re being invaded by bald-headed aliens’). So, I stuck the straw in her mouth, and within moments she was sucking the juice like a bee sucks nectar from a flower. Next on the list is to teach her what freezer head means.

Although we have received a large number of hand-me-downs I don’t know how anyone with children ever has anything to pass down. Some of the toys we have received are worn a bit and some are missing a piece or two, but are generally they are in great shape. And the cloths look clean. There is the occasional stain, but again, most stuff is clean and almost new looking. Zoe’s stuff, on the other hand, looks like she crawled across Iraq with all her possessions dragging behind her. If she has a toy with a piece that can be snapped off, she will. I suspect Zoe will be the type of kid that will pop heads off dolls and will take her tricycle over hand-made ramps. I guess it’s too early to tell about the trikes and ramps, but her cloths are certainly taking a beating. I suppose it’s possible that I’m letting her get into things or do things most parents would steer their kids away from, but probably not. Anyway, I should go, Zoe’s playing in the fireplace.

If you missed last week’s video, it’s not too late to go back. It’s at the end of last weeks blog.

See photos of Zoe at http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Activities, Part 1

At around nine months we discovered that Zoe was anemic and we started a campaign to increase her iron intake. Up to that point she was eating very few solid foods, actually not much more than breast milk. I was tired (lazy) of trying to find things that she would eat, or at least tired of the effort of pureeing everything. But finding that she was anemic changed everything, and the next thing I put into her mouth were chunks of liver, albeit very small chunks. Next was steak (rare, au jus). That she had no teeth I never gave much consideration. I figured if her food was cut up small enough she would simply gum it a bit and then swallow. Then last week Zoe went through an extreme teething episode. The amount of drool that poured from her mouth exceeded the amount of water passing through the Panama Canal locks in a twenty-four hour period. She also ran fever, developed hives and had a loss of appetite. What this means is that she now has more teeth, which in turn means that I will no longer have to cut her food into microscopic specks. Of course she’s still going to choke on the food, but now I get to say, “I told you to chew your food.”

We all hear horror stories of parent’s getting their kids up at 3:15 AM to head off to swim lessons. We may be a couple of years away from that extreme, but the seed is being planted. Here is how Zoe’s week is currently divided. Monday is East Bay Dads (EBD) day. EBD’s are a group of slacker’s stay-at-home dads who meet three days a week ostensibly for various kid-centric activities such as playground time and Zoo visits, but really it’s a thinly veiled excuse to drink beer in the middle of the day (the dads, not the kids). Tuesday is Babygym. Babygym is an hour-long YMCA pay-as-you-go indoor playtime, with fifteen minutes of group activity stuck in the middle to justify the $7 fee. Basically it’s a large room filled with oversized padded things that the kids can jump on and fall off of. There is always at least one child crying because they whacked their head on something. Wednesday is Music Together. You can read what I wrote about MT here. Thursday is Zoo day with the EBD’s. Unfortunately there is no beer at the Zoo. Saturday (at a humane 9:30 AM) is Zoe’s swim lesson. So far she has failed kicking and spitting, but has excelled at choking. Sunday we rest and Zoe will sometimes let us sleep in until 6:00 AM or so.

Zoe has learned how to hold her own sippy cup. She could hold her own sippy cup before, but she hadn’t figured out that she needed to tip the cup to get the liquid to come out. She would often stand there sucking air until one of us would lift the bottom of the cup (at which point she would release it and we would have to stand there holding it while she drank). Now, for the most part, we can hand her the cup and she will drink from it correctly. The first time she figured this out she was so pleased with herself that she drank the entire cup (creating one very wet diaper). This of course has freed up a huge amount of my time, which I can now use toward scraping mashed peas off the floor.

See the world’s cutest bonus video below.

See photos of Zoe at http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Ask and You Shall be Ignored

The gate at the top of our staircase had become almost impossible to open, so I purchased a new gate that I wanted to have installed by the time Alison got home. I first needed to take down the old gate, and installation of the new gate required a small amount of measuring, drilling and screwing. When installing these gates one finds that if your measurements are even slightly off the gate will most likely not operate correctly, and although it does not require a huge amount of skill to install, some concentration is needed. However, with the old gate down Zoe was intent on trying to get down the stairs. So while I measured, drilled and screwed I also had to contort my body to act as a human gate. Here is part of the conversation Zoe and I had while I put up the new gate. “Zoe, please put down the screwdriver. Please don’t hit the wall with that. Can I have that screw, please? No, don’t eat it. Can I have that piece of paper? Please don’t tear that. Daddy needs that. Zoe, that’s called a template and if you tear it I won’t be able to put… Zoe can I have that so I can tape it back together? Zoe, please don’t hit the wood floor with that. Don’t throw that down the stairs, please. Okay, please don’t throw anything else down the stairs. No you can’t go down. I’m not letting you by. No, you can’t go over me either. Watch your head on… come here so I can kiss it all better.”

As you know from reading last Friday’s blog we spent this past week on the East Coast. I left you with my fear that we would spend the entire week sleepless, with Zoe crowding us out of our bed. Well, although Zoe only used the provided crib two out of the six nights it wasn’t as bad as I feared. I’m not saying that we all slept soundly and didn’t get our share of kicks to the head, but I don’t feel that I need to get myself arrested just to catch up on sleep. Aside from the sleep issue and the usual focus on what to feed Zoe and when, her nap times, her diaper changes, where to find milk, and how to keep her entertained on six-hour flights, we had a pleasant trip. Here is a quick recap of our week. We had a nice Mothers Day Sunday brunch with Grandma Maxine, who was also in town, and Great-Grandma Harriette (yes, that’s four generations—see photo). On Monday we had a nice Birthday Lunch for Alison’s Aunt Cecil. Zoe charmed everyone in the restaurant with her almost overwhelming cuteness. I mean really, what’s cuter than a blue-eyed fourteen-month old in a pretty party dress wobbling around, showing off her new skill of walking? And we rounded off the trip by visiting a handful of friends that we hadn’t seen in a while. In five years, when we see these friends again, they will inevitably ask Zoe, “Do you remember me?”

And who would’ve guessed that airlines don’t have milk? Not me. My bad.

See photos of Zoe at http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

More on Food

While sitting in the sand with Zoe at the park the other day I made a nostalgic observation. Zoe doesn't intentionally eat sand, but she does like sticking her finger in her mouth. And she likes playing in the sand. The result reminded me of those candy dipsticks (Dip’N’Stick, Fun-Dip, Lik-M-Aid, Lik-M-Stix) we had as kids, but with sand instead of sugar. Yum!

Here’s one way children cause their parents to gain weight. We’ve been trying to find new foods for Zoe, mostly because we feel guilty feeding her hotdogs three meals a day (and sand has no vitamins). Every time I go to the store I try to find something different for Zoe to try, and then she will usually reject it. At the end of the meal I will usually eat what she has left behind. We don’t give up right away but if she still won’t eat it after a few tries I will finish off whatever is left. Since we are less concerned with the fat content in Zoe’s food than our own they are not always the lightest items. I’m confident that if this keeps up—and I don’t see an end in sight—that come December I will be a shoe-in for that Santa role I’ve been coveting.

I'm afraid. Tomorrow we leave for a week in Baltimore and we will be staying in hotels the entire time. First, though, a little prologue. Last Monday we stayed in a hotel for one night while we had some work done on our house. In was a beautiful hotel and we had a large room that was very quiet. However, normally when we put Zoe to sleep we put her in her crib and she will usually cry for a short period of time (or long period of time) but she will eventually realize that we are not coming back for her and she will fall asleep (or exhaust herself crying and pass out). In the hotel room we were not comfortable with the level and duration of crying necessary to get her to sleep in the crib they provided, plus she can see us so she may never have stopped screaming. So we tried to get her to go to sleep in the bed with us. However, she is too distracted with us both there so it took us two hours to get her solidly to sleep, at which point we are exhausted from having spent two hours shushing her and trying to keep her from climbing off the bed. So we spent the evening of what we had been calling our "mini-vacation" lying awake in the dark while Zoe fidgeted around us. Is this what we are doomed for in Baltimore? In bed by eight and drawing straws in the morning to see who will take her down to the lobby to crawl around so the other person can sleep? I'll let you know when we return.

See photos of Zoe at http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Fear Factor

Long ago, in the time known as BZ (before Zoe), I would periodically consider the prospect of fatherhood and deem myself unsuitable for the job for one primary reason: fear. No, not fear of commitment or parenthood, but fear of the thousands of dangers lurking around every corner. I would be in a bank (BZ took place before ATM's) and I would see a mother balance her child on the edge of the counter. So sure was I that the child would fall that not only would I become tense with the anticipation, but I would also physically prepare myself to leap forward in what would have probably been a futile attempt to break said fall. Well, here I am a father, and oddly enough I find myself balancing Zoe on the edge of counters (metaphorically speaking). What I have learned over the last year is that children do not always hurl themselves off precipices. Not that she won't go off the edge, but I can trust her not to go off every time. What I really think is happening is that there seems to be slight signals that children send out that only their own parents can sense, much like Peter Parker’s spidey-sense. Of course that doesn’t explain how I let her fall off the bed the other day.

I shouldn’t squeeze this next tasty Zoe tidbit into the middle of the blog; it should have its own headline. Really, it’s that big. Hint; in last weeks blog I referred to Zoe as a toddler. Ready? Here it is. Zoe is now walking! Three weeks ago she took five steps. Nothing happened for a week, then last week she started with short five-step trips from chair to chair. By the end of this week she was easily crossing the room and now walks more than she crawls. I’m really not sure how she is going to work this skill into her tantrums, in which she flings herself backwards from a sitting position. Will she first calmly sit herself down then tantrum or will she discover a new way to fling herself to the floor? Fodder for future blogs. Of course I have a video below.

Zoe has two new loves. The first is stuffed animals. Up until now she has shown little interest in her stuffed friends, but suddenly she is carrying around either her stuffed lion or rabbit or both. She will roll around on the floor with them, carry them across the room flung over her shoulder, or give them big hugs (though ask her to give us a hug and you might as well be asking a tree). The second love is high pitched screaming. She will scream whenever she wants something or wants your attention. Or just randomly to make noise. I’ve been trying to teach her to say please, but so far she would rather burst our eardrums. I expect that someday soon she will learn how to combine her arched-back tantrums with a solid, ear-piercing scream, at which point I will try to teach her the longtime favorite (and quiet alternative) of children around the world of holding her breath until she gets what she wants.

See photos of Zoe at http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

50 Posts and Still no Calls from Hollywood

For this, my 50th post (please, no applause), I’d like to share some of the things Zoe is doing, which are not only so cute that you want to give her a huge hug (which actually makes her scream and arch her back, which isn’t so cute) but also demonstrates her growing awareness of the big world around her (or at least the big living room around her).

• She is clearly paying attention to what is going on around her. For example, when Zoe coughs I will usually mimic her with a fake cough. Now if we are at the store and someone coughs she will do a little fake cough.

• We have been learning about animals. Every time I say or show her an elephant she raises her arm as a trunk. She doesn’t make a sound (as I do), and the angle of the arm is more akin to a nazi salute than an elephant, but it’s still cute. My monkey is the typical hand’s-in-the-armpits and body waggle. Hers is just a little head wag. And she has been making a noise whenever we see a dog. I think it is a bark.

• Zoe has learned to ‘click’ her tongue. We were on BART recently and a woman was popping her gum. Zoe, after watching her for a couple of moments, starts clicking her tongue in response.

• When she starts to climb off our bed we only need to say, “on your tummy,” and she will spin around and slide off feet first. Smart.

• She knows that a comb is for combing hair, and often tries to do it herself, although sometimes she will use a pen. The results do not differ.

• She has one particular peek-a-boo book that has various states of babyness (eating, happy, crying, etc.). One of the pages is a baby with her mother. Zoe will hand me the book and say, “Mama.” I know what you’re thinking: Cute!

• She can now stack plastic rings on the post. She will also take those rings and put them on her arm like a bracelets. Both of which requires a bit of coordination.

• She knows (at least 50% of the time) which foot is her left and which is her right. I’m not saying that she knows the difference between left and right, or even what they mean, but ask her where her left foot is and she will lift her left leg (or right, if the conversation goes that way).

• Her kisses have evolved from head-butts to open-mouthed slobbers.

• She will often climb onto her cute little rocking chair and sit quietly, contemplating life as she looks out the window. If I make even the slightest noise it will break her reverie and she will scamper down and interrupt what ever I am doing.

• She knows how to call the cats by patting the floor, or if I’m holding her she’ll pat my chest. They never come. Come to think of it, she will do this for any animal she sees.

• She now understands that the big knob on the stereo will make the music very loud. Fortunately she does not like the music very loud and now, for the most part, stays away from it. However, she still plays with it when the stereo is off so I have to remember to check it before I turn it on or it will register on Richter scales throughout the Bay Area.

• If you say ‘bird’ she will point to the window, or sky if you are outside. She will than pat whatever surface is closest. They never come.

I realize that these things are what toddlers do as they develop, but if you could witness Zoe doing them you would agree that she is cuter than all other toddlers combined.

See photos of Zoe at http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass
Buy the book at http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Little Things She Does

This last weekend we took a trip to LA to visit Grandma. While we were there Zoe took five steps, her first(s?). I missed this monumental event (I was busy rifling through kitchen cabinets looking for goodies) and we could not convince her to repeat her feat for the running camera. It’s been a week since our return and she has not walked again. The only obvious conclusion is that she can only walk in carpeted hallways in LA.

Since my last post Zoe has attended two Music Together classes. Music Together is a “program that develops every child’s birthright of basic music competence,” blah, blah, blah. Music Together is supposed to make your child smarter, more confident, have better balance, leap tall buildings in less than three bounds, and sap your wallet, all in eight short weeks. Shoes get left at the door, everyone sits around a big drum, all conversation has to be sung, and regardless of what I think about it Zoe seems to have fun, although she spends most of the class with a quizzical look while every one else makes strange noises while wiggling and dancing.

I should have mentioned that while in LA Zoe might have said Dada. I say ‘might’ because no matter how often I try to get her to repeat it I only get Mama, which is frequent and very clear. I’m beginning to think that I imagined she said Dada, or she said Dada but really said dada (the difference is cognitive recognition of what is being said as opposed to random babbling).

This week I joined the Oakland Zoo. I used to belong to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Unfortunately Zoe would rather look at elephants and monkeys than urinals. The problem with the Zoo is that is that if the animals are not standing right by the fence or moving in some discernible way Zoe doesn’t know what she should be looking at. Try to point out a Hamadryas Baboon to her and I might as well be pointing at a tree.

One of the cute things Zoe does (and there are hundreds) is that she will lean up against me. I will be cooking or simply standing in a room and she will sidle up and rest her body against my leg. If I move she will fall—thump—onto the floor. The other day we were at the video store and she sidled up to some strange man, sat on his foot, and then reclined against his leg. She was looking right at me and he really didn’t look much like Alison, so I don’t think she was confused. I think she just wanted to recline and one leg was as good as another. Everyone in line thought it was very cute, except for the guy she was leaning against. He seemed unsure what he was supposed to do, so he just stepped away. She teetered a bit but managed to stay upright.

See photos of Zoe at http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass
Buy the book at http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Reaching for the Stars (and knocking them off the shelf)

A while back I scavenged a tiny rocking chair from our neighbors trash. I assumed it was trash, although I suppose our neighbor could have been loading her car and I just timed my walk-by just right. It’s a cute chair, made with bright colors, sturdy enough that Zoe shouldn’t fall over too easily, and light enough that she won’t get hurt when it does fall on top of her. Unfortunately it was custom made for one of her children and has the name Eli painted on the mesh seatback. Alison suggested I paint over it or try to sand it off, but I don’t think that would work on this material. I suggested we rename Zoe Eli, but she just ignored me (I suggested it a second time, just in case she didn’t hear me, but she ignored me the second time as well). I’m not too worried. When we take all the cute photos of Zoe sitting on it, her body will obscure the name anyway. And we can place a tiny little throw over the back when people come to visit. Zoe has learned to climb on and off the chair by herself and this weeks picture is of her on the chair reading a book. I swear it is not staged.

Now that Zoe is standing (and almost but not quite walking) on her own I will start marking her height against a doorway, just as every parent for the last two hundred years has done. For now I track her growth by what she is able to reach. For example, our dining room table usually has a few placemats, a pile of newspapers, a smattering of mail, some… well, lots of stuff. The table was the one place where we could put things, since the coffee table is now entirely off limits. Now, however, she is reaching over the edge of the dining table and grabbing anything she can reach, more often just pulling it down on her head, which requires not only that I pick up a pile of spilled mail from the floor but that I also that I comfort her because it landed on her head. I’ve politely asked her not to pull the things off the table but she just ignores me, something I suspect I should just get used to.

Zoe grabbing and wanting things has become epidemic. She points at everything and grunts, even when there is nothing there. She does this so frequently that I swear she is seeing things that no one else does. If you’ve seen The Sixth Sense you will understand my concern. In the meantime, I’ve been slowly adding cabinet locks, moving items further out of reach and out of sight, and basically creating that barren, modern look in our house that oddly enough I’ve always desired. That is except for the very colorful spread of toys that covers a third of our floors and all the chachkas that are crammed onto high shelves.

I’m excited to introduce the all-new URL address for this blog, www.lifewithzoe.com (you should have been automatically redirected there). Now it will be so much easier to tell all your friends where to find us. Yay. Clapping.

See photos of Zoe at http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass