A Walk in the Park

Our house sits on the border of John Hinkel Park, a 4.9-acre hilly and wooded area that was donated to the city in 1918. There are a number of crumbling trails winding through the hills, an aging outdoor amphitheatre built into the hillside, a deteriorating redwood clubhouse, and a somewhat forlorn playground consisting of a few swings, an ancient metal slide and an old-fashioned style seesaw. We’ve lived in our home for four years and have only walked through the park a handful of times. But recently I have started spending more time there, mostly on weekends while Alison is napping. On hot days it’s pleasantly shaded. This morning there was a chill in the air that I equate with East Coast fall days, so the park today seemed even more tranquil than usual, and perhaps a bit nostalgic. And although Zoe is not quite old enough to really enjoy the winding, crisscrossing paths, she still enjoys climbing on the benches dotting the paths and she particularly likes the old, metal slide. Except for the weekend theatre company that arrives each summer, the park doesn’t get a lot of use and it is not rare that we will wander through and don’t run into anyone. Alison and I sometimes talk about moving back to the East Coast, or even moving closer to the hospital where she works, but I think living near this park makes our current home unique, and should we stay I hope it is someplace that Zoe will eventually enjoy as much as I do.

Zoe's favorite song these days is the toilet paper song. You see, in a hopeful and ultimately premeditated spurt of optimism (and misread signs) we purchased a child’s potty. We chose a model that voices encouragement through song and positive reinforcement for performing various potty tasks. On one side of the ‘tank’ there is a spindle that is supposed to resemble a roll of bath tissue. Spin it and the toilet will say various things, one of which is the toilet paper song. It goes something like this. “Toilet-paper, toilet-paper, on a roll, next to me, I can take a few squares, maybe one or two squares, how about three? Hurray for me!” Zoe will give the roll a spin than do a little jig along with the music. Fortunately she seems to have abandoned the real toilet paper or this singing one. Unfortunately, the few times I have attempted to sit her on this potty she has locked all her joints into a rigid board and yelled, “No!” In an unrelated piece of developmental news she can now use a spoon to get liquid from a soup bowl to her mouth most of the time (although the space between the bowl and her mouth also gets its share).

Recent photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/ZoeMichel19thMonth
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Cute Things She Does

Zoe speaks almost non-stop now. If you ask her a question she will either give a long response or answer, Yah.” This morning I asked her what she was playing with. This was her answer. “Esht ma beya yash la ma eshya et ah,” or something to that affect. She is also a pro with ‘Bye’. If she sees a plane flying overhead or a bus drive by she will yell Bye a few times and wave. When mom leaves in the morning she will yell ‘Bye’. If we are in the kitchen and she walks into the living room she will yell ‘Bye’. The Yah is less accurate. If I ask her if she wants some juice she will answer ‘Yah’. But if I ask her if she would like to be devoured by tigers she will also answer ‘Yah’. This works in my favor as I may ask her if she wants to play quietly in the corner while I watch the baseball game, and she will most often answer ‘Yah’. Of course asking and receiving are two different animals.

Zoe has unique 'forbidden' radar, a sixth sense, if you will. It works by quickly identifying things that she should not get in to or do. Here are some examples. She will be playing quietly by herself and I'll open a cabinet with a child lock. Suddenly she is there next to me trying to push me aside so she can get into it. Or I'll put something that needs to go downstairs on the other side if the gate, on the top step. A moment later she is on her stomach reaching through, trying to grab it. Likewise when I empty dishwasher. If I open the door she will suddenly appear in the kitchen. I am then forced to grab one item at a time, close the dishwasher door, and put that item away. Then repeat the process until the it’s empty. If there is one square foot of mud in a football field she will find it. If there is a pen near the edge of a table, she will grab it. If I put my glasses down on the coffee table she will instantly know it, even if she is asleep. I, on the other hand, will spend an hour trying to remember where I put my glasses.

A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that Zoe threw up on the plane ride back from Boston. Well, Alison has a theory that has been tested twice. On the last two occasions Zoe was given a new book she has thrown up shortly after being read this book for the first time. This morning, on the way out for coffee, we stopped at a bookshop and I bought her a new book. If she throws up tonight I will ban all new children’s books from the house.

Recent photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/ZoeMichel19thMonth
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

So Many Changes, Part 2

Every week we see Zoe change, and lately she seems to have moved into overdrive. Her coordination and strength has visibly improved. She can now balance herself between the coffee table and the couch (until the coffee table slides away—thump). She can climb up the steps of her slide one handed while carrying her bubbles, and at the park she climbed a vertical ladder to the top. She is speaking at least a few dozen words (although some interpretation from Mom or Dad is usually required). She has also suddenly become interested in dressing herself. She will scavenge up some piece of clothing, not necessarily her own, and try to pull it on. Nine times out of ten this activity will end in a scream of frustration, since she almost always tangles herself up to the point of immobility. But probably the biggest sign of change we have seen came the other day. I was reading her a book, and when we finished she took it from me and put it back on the shelf before grabbing another one. Now if she could just figure out how to change her own diaper…

Mom and Dad interact with Zoe in different ways. Here are some examples.

• Mom will hug Zoe and say, “I love you.” Dad will hang Zoe upside down and say, “I’m going to drop you.”

• Mom will sit with Zoe on the couch and read her a book; Dad will sit Zoe on the couch and hit her with a pillow.

• Mom will sing ‘All Around the Mulberry Bush’ while turning the Jack-in-the-box; Dad will teach Zoe how to use the top of the box as a catapult.

• Mom will look for opportunities to kiss Zoe; Dad will look for opportunities to startle Zoe.

• Mom will roll the ball to Zoe; Dad will bounce the ball off of Zoe’s head.

• Dad will intentionally push the stroller through the bushes; Mom won’t.

• Mom likes to sit Zoe on her lap; Dad likes to sit on Zoe.

• Mom will tell Zoe what each stuffed animal is; Dad will see how many stuffed animals he can fit down Zoe’s shirt (it’s a counting exercise!).

The other evening I gave Zoe some raisins and Cheerios in bowl and sat her down on the kitchen floor while I made dinner. She was playing with a spatula and when I looked down she had spilled her snack out onto the floor and was sweeping the spatula back and forth, spreading the raisins and Cheerios in a widening arc. I asked her to stop, and she did (!?), but when I asked her to help put them back in the bowl she sat there watching me pick them up. I asked her a half dozen times and on the very last Cheerio she picked it up and handed it to me. Raisins and Cheerios are a frequent snack, but they regularly escape. I often find squished raisins stuck to the bottoms of my socks, or flattened and pulverized little circles of Cheerios in the middle of the floor. Though I guess those are still better than the periodic lost grape.

Recent photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/ZoeMichel19thMonth
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Travels with Zoe, Part 3

Because Zoe is crazy for bubbles (bubbles is one of the handful of words that she says clearly) I recently bought her a spill-proof bubble maker. It’s much like those that we grew up with—a wand gets dipped into soap and a gentle, steady breath creates bubbles—but since she tips and drops the container every three seconds the spill-proof container has already paid for itself in soap. However, we are having some trouble teaching her the art of creating bubbles. She will usually press the wand against her lips. In fact, she seems to like the taste of the soap and will just as often stick the soapy wand into her mouth and suck it like a lollipop as try to create bubbles. At the end of bubble time she always has a soapy film around her mouth. Why is it that I can’t get her to eat her lunch but she will have a second, third, even fourth helping of soap?

Our recent trip to Boston has caused me to reconsider any travel in the near future. The large amount of luggage didn’t bother me. We’ve traveled with her enough that we have that part of traveling under control. But this particular trip had a few quirks.

• We purchased a seat for Zoe, so we were able to spread out, yet my tray still ended up holding all the drinks and snacks. It was inevitable that the entire cup of ginger ale would spill on my crotch.

• We had a crib brought up to our hotel room. I’m not sure why we wasted the space as we could count on one hand the number of hours Zoe spent in it. I guess so I would have something to stub my toe on at three in the morning when I got up to figure out why the room temperature had dropped to minus twenty.

• M&M’s do melt in your hand. And the color is easily transferable.

• I took Zoe on a swan boat ride in the Public Garden. The swan boats take about ten minutes to circle around the duck pond. Two minutes into the ride Zoe was repeating, “Off. Off.”

• After our stay at the hotel we moved to the home of our friends Seab and Ali on the other side of Harvard Square. They have converted their third floor into a private guest suite. It will now be forever remembered as the first place where Zoe fell out of bed.

• We thought the piercing, incessant screaming of the child across the row from us on the return flight would make our sleeping child the darling of the plane; until she threw up. Twice. It was a good thing I had washed the ginger ale off my pants.

But for all the negatives there were twice as many positives. Zoe charmed everyone, was usually on her best behavior, acted cute in front of friends and family, performed all the tricks we have taught her, and did not make the new parents we visited wish they had been more careful.

Recent photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/ZoeMichel19thMonth
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Uh-oh

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?

Recent photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/ZoeMichel18thMonth
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Toys

Zoe and I were at the park recently and Zoe borrowed some other child’s toy stroller. It was big enough for a doll, or Zoe if she squeezed into it. She played with it for a half an hour and I had to pry it out of her hands when we left. So, although it is the epitome of a cheap junky plastic that will surely break after a short time, and of which zero percent of it is recyclable, I went out and bought one for her. It was ten dollars and was probably manufactured for thirty cents deep in the bowels of China. When Zoe used it for the first time at home she put too much weight on the grips and landed face down on the kitchen floor, at the same time catapulting the toy across the kitchen and into the two cats that were patiently waiting for their dinner and seemed to have already identified this new contraption as an adversary. Zoe recovered quickly (quicker than the cats, who still run at the first sound of the cheap plastic wheels crossing the floor) and has already cajoled me into pushing her (at break-neck speeds) around the house while she is wedged into the seat, something that I’m sure it was not designed for and had it come with any warnings I’m sure would have strongly advised against such use.

Part of the reason for this blog is so that at some point in the future Alison, Zoe and I can read some of these old entries and get teary eyed with nostalgia (the other reason is to entertain my loyal fan with my wit and poignant insight). So, with that in mind here are a couple of highlights from Zoe’s play mat. Zoe has two sets of lightweight stacking blocks that I am required to pile up just so she can knock them over. However, she gets so excited that she rarely waits until I have built it up to any substantial height. My goal is to build it higher than her head but I rarely have a chance; probably for the best since it would most likely land on her head. It’s these blocks spread out all over the floor that make our living room look as if it was hit by a tornado at the end of each day. When she is sitting alone her preference is for the latch puzzle. I think this particular puzzle is intended for older kids because the latches are somewhat stiff and require a higher level of coordination than Zoe is currently is capable of. But the released latches reveal pictures behind the doors, and she will spend ten minutes opening and closing these doors. Ten minutes! That’s an entire cup of uninterrupted coffee. However, if a latch is closed she will carry the entire wood and metal contraption over to me, and then so much for a quiet cup of coffee.

Recent photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/ZoeMichel18thMonth
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Bedtime

Zoe understands much of what I say. She’ll identify objects I point out. If I ask her to pick up a specific toy and hand it to me, she will pick it up; than drop it inches from my hand. If I ask her to put the toy in the toy box, she will, or at least attempt to (unless she gets distracted on her way). If I ask her to give daddy the breakable or dangerous item she knows to run in the opposite direction, screaming like I’m taking away her favorite toy. And if I ask her to give daddy the keys she will drop them in a hard to reach spot then run in the opposite direction, laughing. These actions indicate that she understands what I want of her, even if her response is not exactly what I was hoping for. So why, if I ask her where something is—“Zoe, where are your shoes?”—she will stare at me with a blank look. “Zoe, shoes? Do you know where you put your shoes? Shoes, Zoe?” Nothing. Just a blank look. Why can’t she at least glance over to where she was playing with them, or at least scan the room to as if she cared where they are? Personally I think she is taunting me. I fear that this is just the beginning of what may be years of rebellious behavior.

Every night Alison and I plot a treacherous course through the turbulent seas of Zoe’s bedtime routine. Eight o’clock is her bedtime, but there are nuances to timing it right; too early and she’ll bounce on the bed and even voluntarily hand you her pacifier—reserved only for sleep time—in a defiant, “I’m not going to bed,” move; too late and she can’t get her overtired body to shut down. Either way she usually fidgets so much that one wishes that Dr. Spock had okayed the use of chloroform as a sleep aid. First, though, is teeth brushing, which is sometimes not unpleasant. Zoe has a low tolerance for this necessary task and at times she makes brushing the cat’s teeth seem easy. We then move on to some warm milk. She will recline against one of us and give us the false impression that she is going to simply doze off as she drinks. Not so. Next we read her three or four books, chosen from a stack of a dozen or so, all of which have been read many mind-numbing dozens of times. Then come the wiggles and the face touching (past the point of endearing and into the territory of wanting to break her little fingers). At some point she is transferred into her own bed and Alison and I spend the rest of the evening trying not to step on the creaky part of the floor.

Recent photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/ZoeMichel17thMonth
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

World-class Climber

I know all kids climb on things, and I don’t really know what’s normal for seventeen months, but I suspect that there is a direct correlation between a child’s climbing ability and their parent’s willingness to let them do things untethered, so to speak. I see parents at the park with kids Zoe’s age who will not let their child go down a slide on their own, whereas I’m usually too lazy to get up and accompany her. By ten months I was already putting her at the top of the slide and letting go. Only occasionally would she shoot off the bottom and land in a heap. Unfortunately for her I was usually taking a photo and was not there to catch her (but I’ve got some great shots). Around the house she quickly learned how to climb up onto her highchair, and her favorite spot is usually standing on a piece of furniture. She’s been practicing standing on her rocking chair, and I’m really not sure how she has not done a 360° off of it yet. However, where she is fearless with heights she will not crawl through tunnels, no matter how hard I’m pushing her from behind. I would lead by example, as I have done with the slide, but I’m afraid I would get stuck and would have to send Zoe for help, like Lassie only less dependable. Anyway, check out the video below of her climbing the “wall” at the park. I edited out the part where she fell off the side.

Last week I had a great idea for a gadget. Here is another one that will make me rich (and you too if you invest now). I was at a store recently and while I was talking to the sales person Zoe was wandering around. I was giving myself whiplash trying to watch her and talk. The salesperson, who was also drawn into the whole don’t-let-her-out-of-sight game, suggested a GPS like device that would blink a little arrow on a map indicating where she was, in the event she wandered away. However, I thought that a small device implanted under her skin that, when activated, would give her a small shock would be more affective. Instead of wasting time tracking a little arrow around the store I would just quickly go toward the short scream. Of course it would be low enough voltage that it wouldn’t leave a mark or leave her writhing in agony on the floor; after all I’m not inhumane.

Recent photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/ZoeMichel17thMonth
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Haircuts and Blueberries

I seem to recall an early blog entry in which I came up with a few time and effort saving devices for managing baby. The market for baby gear is huge and I think that this one particular gadget could make my fortune. I decided to revisit this idea a few days after we purchased the 50-pound basket of blueberries from Costco. Turns out Zoe likes blueberries and for two days ate only blueberries. Then she threw up. But Zoe doesn’t chew her food very well. And blueberries take some time to digest. And Zoe doesn’t give us any warning before she hurls vomits. The end result required six loads of laundry and a night in the guestroom. Blueberries have now been banned from our home. Now back to the gadget. I envision a large blender-like devise, in which the ‘blades’ create a vortex that, when the child (or item, such as a pillow) is dipped in, clothed or not, whips off any offending material from said child (or item, such as a pillow). Given our recent experience it should be large enough to fit an adult as well. I will be raising funds shortly if you’d like to get in on the ground floor of this revolutionary idea (which will not be sold in stores).

On Friday Zoe had her first haircut. It was long overdue (her hair hung down in front of her eyes like an Old English Sheepdog) and she would not wear a barrette. I remember as a teenager my mother constantly harping on me to get my hair out of my eyes, and I could never really understand why, if it didn’t bother me, it bothered her so much. Well, now I know. It looks bad. That’s it. There’s really no other reason. I don’t remember it affecting my vision and it didn’t seem to affect hers. But it was bad enough that each week even her music class teacher would say, “Still haven’t gotten it cut?” We brought Zoe to our local Snippety Crickets, and even though they gave Zoe a toy to hold and there were a ton of distractions around the room she still started to cry as soon as we put her on the chair. Alison ended up holding her. The woman cutting Zoe’s hair was Russian and was tender in the way that all former KGB torture specialists are tender; but she was fast. And it looked really good for the first half hour, until Zoe’s hair settled into it’s natural position, then it simply looked like an uneven pageboy haircut. But not surprisingly it looks better. You can now see Zoe’s whole adorable face. But more importantly, my mother would have been happy.

Happy Parents Day to all the moms and dads out there.

Recent photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/ZoeMichel17thMonth
First Haircut: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/Zoes1stHaircut
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034

Two-week Recap

Two weeks ago we crammed everything we own into the car and drove into the thick of 4th of July traffic for Zoe’s first camping experience. We were meeting four friends at a campground about 175 miles north of San Francisco, or about five hours with traffic and screaming. The camping we had planned was not really roughing it. One of the couples we joined works in the wine industry and brought a collection of very nice wines, complete with Riedel wine glasses. We had risotto the night we arrived, and Alison and I brought a king-sized down comforter to keep us cozy. As with most big state park campgrounds, the sites were worn down to bare dirt and the area surrounding each site denuded of anything that would burn. But the park was on a beautiful stretch of the coast and Zoe loves being outside so she had a blast spending her entire day playing around the campsite. By the end of the weekend her feet and fingernails were black and she had probably consumed equal amounts dirt and food. Sleeping in the tent proved better than I could have imagined. When she woke up early we didn’t have to get up to get her and we didn’t have to worry about her falling off the bed. She could clamber all over us and wander about the tent (only a two and a half foot person can wander about in a backpacking tent) and we could pretend we were actually sleeping without worrying that she was getting herself into trouble. Oddly enough, it all seems so much more relaxing in two-week retrospect.

Last weekend I flew solo back to Boston for three days for a farewell party for a friend moving home to India. I was secretly looking forward to uninterrupted sleep and late mornings. I was halfway satisfied; very late nights out and a three-hour time change meant that when I guiltily pulled myself from bed at 10:00 AM east coast time it was still only 7:00 AM west coast. It was great seeing everyone, but I was the proud Papa that took every opportunity to pull out the iPod that I had loaded with hundreds of photos of Zoe and show her off to everyone patient enough to sit through the slide show (or too polite to say no). At the farewell party I seemed to gravitate toward the other parents to discuss weighty issues like nap times, eating, sleeping and all the other important topics that I had politely avoided discussing with my non-childrened friends. I guess it just goes to prove that you can take the Dad away from the baby, but you can’t take the baby away from the Dad.

Recent Zoe photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/dbglass/ZoeMichel16thMonth
Buy the book at http://blurb.com/bookstore/detail/193034