Mooch
Zoë has definitely learned how to mooch. When we're eating (or sometimes drinking) something she thinks she might like, she shows no hesitation at all in coming over and just mooching whatever it is. She's pretty good at it, actually. She's gotten ice cream this way on more than one occasion (we do try to limit her sugar intake, though, honestly), and chips/crackers/pretzels/etc. (ditto with the junk food, which we try to keep to a minimum). Today she was mooching our lunch (despite the fact that she'd just eaten). She recgonizes the chicken stuffed with broccoli and cheese, so she just went between us, mooching bites of it.
You know, only your own child can get away with this. If someone else's kid did it, you wouldn't necessarily give them any of what you were eating. If an adult relation (say, a sibling) did it, you'd probably tell them to go get their own (possibly in rude terms). But your own toddler comes over and looks at you expectantly, opens their mouth, and makes a little whimpery noise and you stuff that little mouth with food. Kinda strange and wonderful, I think.
Life with Zoë
We took Zoë to get her final immunization yesterday. It's now standard to include a Hepatitis B immunogen with the standard immunizations, but she was a bit too young to get that automatically. We elected to have her vaccinated for Hepatitis B after I did some research on the topic. So she was on a sort of "double" immunization schedule for a while. Now, thank goodness, she's all caught up.
She was pretty much furious about the whole thing, and cried for a good ten minutes. She refused all attempts at comfort, wouldn't take the balloon she was given by the doctor, wouldn't take a drink of water, nothing. She just wanted to cry and make her feelings extremely well-know, thank you. The best I could do was wipe her face and let her get it all out. After this ordeal, she did settle down, thank goodness. We were invited to attend an afternoon tea at the local college of theology, mostly because they're web design clients of ours and we wanted to get some more pictures of the grounds. Zoë and I shared some carrot cake and she had some fruitcake and a drink of orange juice while Andrew went around with the digital camera. Zoë was fairly well-behaved for most of the time we were there, but she was still tired and quite cranky. One of the theologians present who didn't know us asked her name and when I told him he said, "Ah. Life!" I grinned at Andrew and said, "Leave it to a theologian to know that." (The word "zoe" is Greek, which is the language of the New Testament.) She had a nap as soon as we got back. When she woke up, she was as right as rain. No more anger, no resentment, ate a nice meal and played happily and gave and recieved cuddles from both parents. She is terribly dramatic and emotional, but generally once she's gotten it out of her system (which is what the persistant crying is), she lets it go, as far as I can tell.
Of weddings and other events
Zoë went to her uncle's wedding yesterday. It was outdoors, in an amphitheatre in a park. She stayed in her pram (stroller) the whole time because I didn't want her running around during the ceremony. She was mostly quiet, although she was starting to fuss right before the "if anyone has any objection" part. I thought that while it would be amusing, it wouldn't be very nice if she let loose with a wail right there, so I did manage to keep her quiet.
After the wedding ceremony, we came home and got Zoë set up with dinner and had a babysitter come over to watch her. Apparently Zoë wasn't any trouble at all and was content to watch videos and run around a little bit. When we came in she was sitting on the sitter's lap happily watching A Bug's Life. She toddled over to me right away and gave me a cuddle, but she seemed entirely untraumatized. In fact, the cat was a lot more upset (she came in through the cat flap and looked at us and then stalked around cautiously to be sure the "stranger" was gone). Speaking of films, though, Zoë is amazingly aware of movies. She'll laugh at the funny parts and look concerned at the serious parts, and she sings along with any song that she knows and which is sung by a girl. Her favorite film at the moment is The Little Mermaid, and she sings along with Ariel, but not with Sebastian, although she'll dance a little bit. It amazes me that she actually seems to "get it", but she might be responding to the musical cues (all films have them, to make a scene more dramatic or funnier or whatever). I also find it funny that she won't sing with male singers, but she will with women (the same goes for The Hunchback of Notre Dame, where she'll sing with Esmeralda but not with Quasimoto or Frollo or the gargoyles). She's still not talking. I know she can. Many people have heard her do so. She can (and has) said drink, cat, tickle, good, girl, thank you, and a few other things. And she uses them correctly, so it's clear she understands the purpose of words. She just seems entirely disinclined to talk. She is a very self-willed child. I guess she's just decided to talk when she wants to talk, and not before.
Up the garden path
This afternoon, Zoë walked into the flat from the carport all by herself. In the past, she has always wanted to hold hands with a parent (preferably both parents), but today I got her out of the car and off she toddled. She went up the two steps into the garden all by herself and then carefully walked down the stone path to the door, and up the step into the doorway.
Yes, I took pictures (I just happened to have the digital camera with me).
La la la la...
Can there be anything cuter than a toddler "singing" along with Ariel in The Little Mermaid? Granted, her singing is mostly just "ahhhhh" and its not really on pitch, but she does have some sense of rhythm. It's definitely a toddler singing.
Clever girl, portraits, and a joke
Every morning, Zoë gets in our bed with us and has a cuddle. She also generally ends up getting several items from the Repository of All Things Cool and Interesting, which is either nightstand. Today she was playing with a small pot of lip balm and the plastic box of baby wipes. She was putting the lip balm on the top of the box, and it kept sliding off. She watched this happen a few times, made noises of frustration (she obviously wanted to stack things, one of her favorite activities), and then adjusted the box of wipes so it was more level and the pot of lip balm stayed on.
I thought it might just be a fluke, but Andrew made the box of wipes uneven again and she repeated it. She's a smart little cookie. Later, we went out to pick up her portraits. We got a couple of very nice ones that really capture her personality. Afterward, we went to the food court in the shopping center to get some fresh juice. Andrew brought mine over and put it down. Zoë reached for it repeatedly. Finally I told her "Daddy's getting some for you." She turned around in her stroller and looked right at him, just to be sure. I'm certain she understands what we say to her, so her lack of speech isn't worrying me. And then, there's that old joke about the child who reached the age of five and never spoke... Doctors, speech specialists, psychiatrists all examined him, and none could find anything wrong.
One night at dinner the child took a spoonful of soup and said, "This soup is terrible." His surprised parents dropped their own spoons and stared at him.
"What did you say?" his mother finally manged to choke out.
"I said this soup is terrible," the boy repeated.
The boy's father said, "You can speak!"
"Sure I can," the boy replied.
"Why haven't you spoken before this?" his mother wanted to know.
The boy shrugged. "Up until now, the soup's been okay." I figure that one of these days Zoë will start talking because she's found something she really wants to tell us. And up until now, I guess the soup's been okay...
Clever girl
We went out yesterday to run errands, but we didn't say anything to Zoë. We just got her dressed and put her shoes on (hint: she knows that shoes pretty much always equal "going somewhere"). Then she saw me packing the nappy bag, as Andrew turned off the television. The squeal of delight she made when she realized we were really going somewhere was wonderful. She took all those little bits of information and put them together to equal: Going somewhere good (in reality, it was just to the credit union and then the store, but it was still Good).
Later, she had a nap and woke up crying because she was hungry. We got her settled in her chair with a drink and some little nibblies to keep her contented while her dinner cooked, and I came in and told her Daddy was in the kitchen making chicken for her (she definitely knows what chicken is). When she heard the timer on the stove, she grinned hugely and squealed, because that sound means "Zoë's food is ready". When Andrew brought it in to her, she made a very odd face at it. There were potato gems (tater tots, Americans would call them) there, and I had said "chicken". Then she saw that there were potatoes and chicken, and she seemed to feel much better. It's obvious that she understands a great deal of what goes on around her. She understands a lot of our speech and she's very good at putting together bits of information. Why she won't talk (other than the occasional word which she seems to use just for the novelty of it), I really don't know. Then again, Andrew didn't talk until he was well into toddlerhood, and when he did, his first word was "microphone" and he very shortly started using complete sentences, so there you go.
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