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