Quack, quack, quack
Uncle Greg has a tradition of always giving Zoë toys that make some sort of noise. Rattles, a xylophone, a drum, a toy car with a beeping horn, etc. This weekend he brough her a little floppy duck that quacks. A lot. And loudly. It's actually kind of cute and it doesn't bother me especially, but when I heard it I said, "Oh. How thoughtful of him. It quacks." This, of course, pleased Uncle Greg, and Zoë quite likes the little duck, especially since her favorite songs are ones with "quack, quack, quack" in them.
And speaking of songs with "quack, quack, quack", Zoë's been singing and talking a lot more lately. Today she told Miranda, "We're going out!" (although not that clearly), and she's started to echo and mimic things we say. She's said "Oi!" and "G'day" and "Hello" and "Bye", but also says "Zoh-eee" when we call her name.
In the car, she was singing along with the songs on the radio, but she was singing "quack, quack, quack, quack, doodle doo" because those seem to be the only song words she remembers lately. I'll bet the Mamas and the Papas never imagined California Dreaming sung that way...
Potty!
Tonight, rather by surprise, Zoë used the potty. She was in the bath and started to show signs that she needed to move her bowels, so I pulled her out of the tub and put her on her potty. Once she got the idea that it was okay to sit there and do her thing, she did.
We made a huge production of it, praising her like crazy, calling her clever and telling her what a good girl she was.
I had thought she wouldn't be ready quite yet, and she may not be entirely there yet, but I think we'll work on "catching" her when she needs to go. If I can show her how much nicer it is to use the potty, we might get this accomplished more easily than I had thought.
Sharing with Miranda
Zoë was eating a dish of strawberry and applesauce, and apparently decided that Miranda must be hungry, as well, because she sat down beside the baby and started feeding her. It was a bit of a mess by the time she was done, but it wasn't too bad, and most of the mess was on the baby's face.
I try not to interfere too much with their relationship. So long as no one's being hurt or smothered or otherwise harmed (or woken from a nap), I pretty much stay out of it. They do seem to be genuinely fond of each other.
No!
Zoë said "no" in context. This seems minor, but it's a big step because she's finally using language as a tool and to communicate, rather than just as a novelty or because words are fun to say.
I was eating some soup and she was watching me closely. I asked her if she wanted some and offered her the spoon, and she gently pushed my hand away and said, 'No."
Yay! I think she may finally be starting to get the idea that language can be useful.
Zoë's Favorite Toy
Miranda fell asleep playing on the floor, so I let her be. Zoë, however, got bored and decided to play with her favorite toy, which happens to be Miranda. Needless to say, the tired, sleeping baby woke up crying (Miranda absolutely hates to be woken up, and who can blame her?). I pulled Zoë off Miranda (they were in a cuddle/clinch, Zoë instigating) and plopped her on a chair and gathered up the sobbing baby while telling Zoë that she is not to wake sleeping babies (not that I think this will have any effect, but I do try to tell her).
I told Zoë, in quite a cross voice, "You woke Miranda and made her cry, look!" and Zoë dissolved into sobs, too.
I ended up with Miranda in the sling and Zoë on my lap, and I had to comfort both of them. Poor little Zoë seemed quite upset that she'd made Miranda cry (or maybe she was just upset that I'd yelled at her). Eventually, Zoë calmed down enough to talk to me and she told me in a very sad little voice that she didn't mean to do that. Well, what she actually said was, "jabber jabber do dat sniffle", but the context was actually quite clear.
I ended up telling Zoë that she is a good girl and that I know she didn't mean to make Miranda cry, but that we leave sleeping babies alone and let them sleep. I don't think she gets the "sleeping baby" part, but she calmed down and seemed to get the "you're a good girl, and I know you didn't mean it" part.
Now, she's watching Bananas in Pyjamas and ignoring me totally, so it seems things are back to normal.
Hey! I need a shirt!
Today Zoë was wearing a top that has a zipper front that forms a collar. She started chewing on the zipper. I asked her to stop several times. I tucked the collar in, and she pulled it right back out and chewed some more. Finally, in frustration, I pulled her shirt off entirely.
She didn't like that one little bit, and started to cry. At that particular moment, Miranda demanded my attention, so I sat down to feed the baby, thinking that perhaps Zoë would get the message about chewing on her clothes if she was shirtless for a little while.
Zoë, however, was not going to wait. She kept covering her chest with her hands and crying, and then went over to the drying rack (where I hang clothes that need to be line dried in the shade or when the weather's not good), pulled one of her shirts off of it, and came back over to me with it, still crying. I helped her put it on (one-handed, because I was feeding the baby), and she settled down.
I don't know if this will stop her from chewing the zippered collar of that other shirt, but it does confirm for me that she's awfully clever. Don't have a shirt? Get one from over here!
MY cot!
We set up the portable cot a couple of days ago (that's a crib to you American sorts) to have a place for Miranda to play and sleep safely during the day. This used to be Zoë's cot (there are lots of pictures of her in it). She saw it and seemed to remember it, and immediately claimed it by filling it up with toys and trying to get in it. I finally put her in and she played quite happily in it for a long time, which surprised me, as she normally likes to run around all over the place.
Today we got up and I put Miranda in the cot while I did the usual morning routine things. After Zoë finished her breakfast, she wanted to get in the cot, so I put her in with Miranda, which was fine for a while. Eventually, though, Zoë had completely buried her baby sister (to the point that the poor baby was whimpering because she was being smothered and couldn't see) and was about to sit on her!
Naturally, I rescued the baby from the toddler, who went on happily playing in the cot for a couple of hours before she got tired of being confined.
Zoë is very affectionate with Miranda, but sometimes I think she regards Miranda as a toy...
Water
Q: How do you get a toddler to drink water?
A: Put it in a purchased water bottle with a pop-top.
Unfortunately, buying V8 vegetable juice in a cardboard carton with a straw didn't fool her. She did try the drink, but didn't like it and wouldn't drink it. We had hoped that maybe putting it in a carton like that might fool her, but, no. She said "Yuck!" and refused to try any more.
Dang gravity
Zoë asked for chicken and yogurt for dinner, so that's what we made for her. She ate the yogurt from the tub all by herself with a spoon.
Eventually, she started to cry very persistently. I asked her what was wrong, tried to figure it out... Finally I watched for a bit and it seems the problem was gravity.
She wanted to put the spoon in the almost-empty yogurt cup and have the cup remain standing upright. Of course, this wouldn't work, and the cup kept tipping over. Andrew showed her that if she propped the spoon against her drinking cup, it would stay up. She made him demonstrate several times and eventually stopped crying, but she still seemed very put out about the whole thing.
Gravity's very frustrating, isn't it?
Thoughts on Potty Training
Zoë is two and three quarters of a year old. She shows no real signs of being ready to start potty training, other than occasionally letting me know when she's got stinky pants. I'd like to start giving her the idea, and I have been letting her sit on and play with her potty (it's shaped like a turtle), but other than that I haven't done anything in that direction because I think it would be counterproductive at this point.
I was a late potty trainer. Based on my own early memories and at least one photograph, I know that I wasn't entirely potty trained until I was well past the age of three. As it happens, Andrew was a late (and stubborn) learner in this department, as well. So if Zoë is a bit slow about learning this particular complex skill, I'm not going to stress too much. So long as she's potty trained by the time she starts prep (the year before first grade; Americans would call it kindergarten, but in Australia that's got a different connotation), I think we'll survive.
Good girls
I was working at the computer just now and heard the little girls giggling. I turned around and saw that the almost-eight-month-old baby, who was lying on Zoë's little foldout couch, was face to face with Zoë, and Zoë was playing so sweetly with the baby, touching her little face, making the stuffed animals "give kisses" (a game we play with Zoë) and so on. Then Zoë started chattering, "I love you. I love you. I love you."
Last night, Zoë was fiddling with something she's not allowed to touch. Her dad said rather nicely, "Zoë, leave that alone, sweetie." Well, Zoë was tired and didn't like that directive, so she ignored him. He told her again in a stronger voice. She ignored him again. Finally he raised his voice and said quite sternly, "Zoë! Leave that alone!"
The toddler, who is a very sensitive little person, burst into tears. He held out his hands to her and she came over and got on his lap, all the time saying, "Zoey-oey good girl. Zoey-oey good girl." He, of course, reassured her that she is a good girl, she's just not allowed to do what she was doing. Eventually, she settled down on his lap and had a cuddle and watched tv with him.
I'm not sure if Zoë fears that she's not a good girl, or if she just associates the phrase with praise and comfort. I do know she responds much, much better to praise than to punishment, so we try to heap on the positive reinforcement whenever possible. In any event, she is a good girl. She just sometimes does things she shouldn't.
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