Growing up: cupcakes, rainbows, asbestos, and Annabelle

Zoë is now three years old. My friends have warned that three is a tricky age, but so far so good. Well, almost. The days leading up to and including the birthday were a little ... icky. Actually, let's go back to the birthday party, which was actually the weekend before (Feb 11).

Zoë had a party at a music center, with her buddies from school and a very nice music instructor, Sherri, who chose Zoë's favorite music -- songs about trains, "Roy G. Biv" about rainbows, and old classics like "Hokey Pokey". Only... after a relatively calm (read: boring!) Winter, the weather on this random Saturday in February decided to entertain us with all heaven had to offer: snow, ice, sleet, ... all offered in dark, pelting fashion at exactly the time that Zoë's party was supposed to begin. So... things did not go exactly as planned.

The biggest lessons I have learned in parenting: 1. Make plans, or you are sure to fail. 2. Always expect plans will be demolished in the most unexpected ways. Hey-- I can't complain that life isn't spontaneous and interesting! Anyway, about half the guests made it and all had fun, ate cupcakes, and made music. See the pictures here (press play to see the whole slideshow! There are a couple of videos too. The pictures aren't great because of the flurry of activity and low light conditions -- again, I blame the weather!))

Upon returning from the successful party, we find an email awaiting us at home. Zoë's school will be closed on Monday because someone drilled in a ceiling tile where they were not supposed to and ... now there was asbestos exposure and the clean up and testing would close the center for the weekend and Monday too. Well... embracing spontaneity, Zoë and I spend the morning back at the MusiKids center -- since their open play was on Monday morning, we had never been here (besides for her birthday party) and here was a shining opportunity. In anticipation of turning three (as we were informed, "3" is almost grown up and Zoë is almost as big as us, we are "4", after all. Eh... who's counting those extra 30 years anyway?), she put her coat on by herself... as you can see here, we are still mastering some of our skills before becoming totally independent. Kudos for trying! We had a super time with bubbles, and meeting new friends, and climbing and silly time. As for work... Daddy came home in the afternoon and Mommy practiced super-efficiency.
Then, Zoë's birthday and Valentine's Day: cupcakes are ready for school party, but Zoë is lying on the floor saying that she doesn't want to go to school. Of course! It's because Mom was so much fun yesterday, right? Well... after checking all body parts, nothing seemed amiss, except general lacklusterness. I was reluctant, but decided, maybe she needed a bit more sleep. But... in about an hour, she was burning with 104 degree fever. Hmmm... off to the Dr. and the rest is too sad for documenting here among her well-wishers. As I like to put it, we spent this day much like her first one on this Earth -- Mom and Dad worrying for her health, lots of snuggling and cuddling, and sleeping and resting. With the gift of Tylenol, we managed a sad-ish birthday celebration complete with homemade cupcakes (those never made it to school after all) and payesh (yup, somewhere in this weekend, I managed to made a yummy batch of this!), candles and gift opening. Plans 400-410 for this day out the window...(somewhere in that was some silly New Year's resolution about "cutting back on sweets"... someone had to eat the cupcakes and pudding and make space on the counter and in the fridge! Matt helped too.)

This is getting to be a long birthday post, but wait! The story has a happy ending, no fear. Zoë's school came through asbestos-free, Zoë recovered fever-free (and soon enough, Mom and Dad through stages made it too through their respective illnesses-- damn Global warming and the crazy weather. Hello Daffodils... shouldn't you still be sleeping? Go away Cheery Blossoms-- not yet, I say! Oh look, it's hailing now. sigh.)
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Matt and I have been compiling our favorite random Zoë-isms... today alone, there were two gems (you can't make this sort of thing up!) --

1. Annabelle, author extraordinaire:

Z: Choo- choo baby needs to make a card for Annabelle.

Me: Who's Annabelle?

Z: She's the Children's book author.

Me: (feeling awfully out of the loop... yikes, how did I miss this great celebrity?)Oh yeah? What did she write?

Z: Oh. She writes about Choo choo baby.

Me: (slap head with palm... right! How could I forget?! The imaginary author... that Zoë, the wise, worldly, and well-read three year old, invented over breakfast this fine day...) Aha! hmmm... I can't remember the name of her book. What was it again?

Z: (with some attitude, if I might add)Welllll... Car and Bus -- that's the name.

How silly of me to forget... the adventurous Choo choo baby explores the world in car and bus, but of course. Naturally.
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2. Later, as we are getting ready to nap, Mommy and Zoë are being affectionate.

Me: Zoë, have a good nap and I love you.

Z: (patting Mommy's face gently)Yes, I love you too. Always remember to love yourself.

Me: Wow. That's really nice. Who taught you that? Did someone say this to you?

Z: (And I know this will be shocking to all of you... )Choo choo baby.

I really need to start writing up these stories in a book. Adventures of Zoë and Choo choo baby., my pseudonym would be... Annabelle.

"It's getting complicated"...

One morning while rushing to get out of the house (it's like moving mountains...):

Zoë: Mom, it's getting very complicated with Choo Choo Baby. (Choo choo baby, as some of you might remember, is Zoë's favorite doll)

Mom: Hmmm, why? Put on your shoes.

Z: Yesterday she told me that she has a baby.

M: Hm. That is complicated. Baby's can't have babies! Then what happened? Put on your coat.

Z: Choo choo said that I was her daughter!

M: Really! Give me your other arm. What did you say?

Z: I told her that then I must be her sister and you were both of our Mom.

M: Yes, that sounds about right. We're late! Let's go!

That was a fun way to start the morning! Everyday is an adventure...

Fall... (ing behind)

Two months have passed and there's much to update. So I think I won't even try. The Zych grandparents came a few weeks ago and we had lots of fun (Happy slightly belated Birthday, Grandma!)

The next few months will be very busy as I am applying for new positions (aiming a little ambitiously at a few faculty positions, and mainly more fellowships and postdoctoral research positions). As things are once again sitting on the precipice of total disruption, the level of stress and list of things to do are out of control! But luckily, tales of funny Zoë have been keeping me chuckling (and closer to sane, though she brings to our lives her own toddler angst). I wanted to share a few here before I forget!

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Yesterday, while we were sitting down for breakfast, I found her licking the dining table. Now she is just getting over a bout of stomach flu, probably brought on by her recent deplorable habit of licking EVERYTHING. (Weirdly, she wasn't super-licky as a baby, but in several ways I find she has been "testing" baby habits, regressing a bit on skills that she had down -- like trying the potty, getting dressed, brushing her own teeth, etc. So I had a conversation with her:

Me: Zoë, why are you licking the table? You know that the table is not food! Babies lick tables because they are learning what is food and what isn't. But you are older, you already *know* that the table isn't food. Can you eat a table? No! Can you eat a book?

Zoë: No.

M: Can you eat Mommy's phone?

Z: No. It's not food.

M. Right! Can you eat cheese?

Z: Yes. It's food.

M: Exactly, so you can put it in your mouth. See, you know what's food already. If you see a baby eating the table or eating blocks, you might want to say: "Don't eat that! It's not food." But the baby has to figure it out for herself. She might not listen to you. But you can try to explain that some things are food and it's ok to eat. But other things are not food and should not be put in the mouth!

Z: Ok! I know! I need to tell Choochoo baby (that's her doll with a train on the chest) right now!

Hops off the chair, runs into the other room. In her sternest, loudest "teacher" voice, she yells:
Z: Choochoo baby, DON'T LICK THE TABLE! IT'S NOT FOOD! YOU DON'T LICK THINGS. YOU ONLY LICK FOOD. Table's not a food, is it? No... you don't want to eat it, do you? NO!

I can report that Choochoo baby learned her lesson -- she has not licked the table since.

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This morning, another Choochoo baby story (these are starting to remind me of Calvin and Hobbes... only Choochoo is Zoë's naughty alter ego). For several months, Zoë has been saying "I don't like you" to me and Matt. I think it started as a form of protest, when we would make her do something she didn't want to do; and then it was silly, just to provoke some reaction like "fake crying", etc. In fact, once, first thing in the morning, she responded to my "Good Morning, Zoë!" with "I don't like you. Go away". Still sleepy and thoroughly disarmed, I reacted with "Fine. Since you don't like me, I am going away to New York tomorrow"... which was true, but I regretted telling her this way, making her think that my trip was a "punishment" or lesson for that phrase. She did stop saying it after that... but now that I have to travel again, we'll see how it goes. Anyway, this morning,

Zoë tells me, (in a tattle voice): Mommy, Choochoo Baby said she doesn't like me.

Me: Hmm... that's not nice! Maybe you should tell her how it makes you feel.

I heard her again sternly addressing Choochoo Baby in a quiet, ominous tone.

Zoë (to Choochoo Baby): Choochoo, You don't say, "I don't like you". IT'S NOT NICE! When you say "I don't like you" I get sad and feel mean.

(Pause the then sweetly) You don't want that, do you? You should say "sorry". You think what you said. I go to school now. When I come home, you say "sorry, I love you."

Choochoo Baby is no doubt contemplating her harsh words right now...

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THE END (for now).