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

Am I Too Old for This?

What’s for breakfast? Jelly and cheese. Dad toasts a slice of bread, covers it with jam and cuts it into three-quarter inch squares. He slices some cheese into strips and puts a full-frontal bib on child. To eat, child presses a square of jam-covered toast into mouth and after a few moments of moving about in said mouth removes toast, sans jam. Child places soggy square on table beside plate or hands to dad. If dad does not respond fast enough child drops soggy square on floor while staring dad in the eye; follows with cute ‘no’ shake of head. Child periodically grabs three of four strips of cheese and crams them into her mouth with ball of hand. At end of meal child rubs jam-covered hands over tabletop and hair and presses thumb into and through remaining pieces of food on plate. Child then sweeps food off plate and onto floor and laughs hysterically. Child twists and screams when dad wipes child’s face and hands. Once removed from strapped-in position on chair, child eats pieces of food off floor before dad has a chance to pick up all said pieces. Child climbs on dads back while dad wipes jelly off floor. Dad grimaces when he remembers that there are still two meals and countless snacks remaining in day.

A mom at the park recently gave me a CD of children’s songs by Elizabeth Mitchell. The music is pleasant to listen to, not the usual saccharin, insipidly worded music of most children’s collections (think Raffi). But even better than the quality of the music, it seems to relax Zoe. Every time I put it on she will sit in a corner of her mat playing quietly with the half dozen toys closest to her. She will go back and forth from one to another, completely focused. When she gets into one of these zones she behaves as if it’s the first time she’s ever seen each toy. She'll turn the knobs, lift the balls, remove the parts, and laugh to herself. Lately I’ve been pleased to see her experiment with her toys, mixing them up and stacking one toy on another because they have similar characteristics. Ultimately this means she is thinking more about how things work. She is also becoming more dexterous, her balance is improving, and she is climbing and puling herself up onto everything. She especially likes to perform feats that will ultimately result in a bonk on the head, such as standing on her rocking chair, jumping on the couch, or balancing on any item that she can climb on, big or small. I like to see her climbing about like this but it is exhausting, both because I’m required to participate and because it’s nerve-racking to see her teetering on the edge of the couch. Which is why when I put on some pleasant music it’s so nice to have her just sit quietly for a few minutes.

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

Special Midweek Conundrum Issue

A few nights ago we had dinner with friends and they were heating up some hot dogs for their children. Zoe’s been off dogs for a while, but we figured we’d give it another try. She ended up eating a dog and a half. The hot dogs were a brand we’ve avoided because they contain nitrates. Here is where we run into problems. The foods that taste best seem to often contain things we’d rather not feed Zoe, it’s not just nitrates. We stopped heating her food up in plastic containers because there is a risk that Bisphenol A (BPA) is being released when the plastic is heated. We discovered that canned foods are lined with a resin containing BPA, and since most of these food items are cooked in the can, BPA has already been released into the food, so we are trying to move away from canned goods. And since BPA is in most clear, hard plastics, we worry about slow leaching even when the item is not heated up, such as in our Brita water filter. (We are aware that studies of the amounts of BPA being released and the danger levels they pose are inconclusive—which is also true of most items mentioned in this blog—but because most information available on the web is slanted toward whomever is doing the reporting we have decided on the better-safe-than-sorry approach.) We naturally avoid foods with Aspartame and Saccharin. Additives, such as tartrazine, a yellow colorant used in fizzy drinks, sweets and sauces, have shown to cause urticaria, dermatitis and asthma. Preservatives sulfur dioxide, sulfites, benzoic acid and benzoates may trigger asthma attacks or worsen eczema. These additives are found in soft drinks, burgers and sausages. Researchers believe food additives are contributing to hyperactivity and attention deficit hyperactivity disorders. And if that’s not all I have to worry about there’s environmental pollutants, damaging sun rays, chemicals in soaps and lotions, and theories of inoculation causing autism and other health issues. Playgrounds are broken bones waiting to happen, and every strange man is a threat. We have terrorists to worry about and poison spiders hiding in the woodpile. There were over six million car accidents last year and well over forty thousand deaths resulting from those accidents. It really is hard to believe that as a race we humans have survived this long. But I got off track. The point I was trying to make is that it’s hard to find a variety of food to feed Zoe that is both healthy and nutritious, and—since she has become picky recently—that she will eat. Maybe we’ll try hot dogs again. Sulfates anyone?

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