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

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?