Ice cream truck

The ice cream truck passes by our home everyday, playing a tempting melody. Papa and I are waiting for you to ask for money and run to pick your ice cream.

Tiny little tooth

It's peeking out from your lower gum. So tiny and sharp. Soon it will become a pearl. Then you'll have a whole string of pearls, complementing your already beautiful smile. I'm not just saying that. People on the street always tell me what beautiful smile you have, and what a gorgeous daughter I have.

Kiss
Mommy

Standing up

Baby Zoe,

You're rising from the floor with no help at all and standing on your feet. Once up, you applaud your achievement, like you do when you put food in your mouth, picked with your little fingers. We applaud too.

For the last couple of months your goal was to come to standing without support and last week, a day after your 10th month birthday, you mastered the task. You did it again and again until it became easy, and you set your eyes on walking. You have a way to communicate your mind without language. You want me to walk you up and down the hallway so you practice. I think its a matter of days.

This activity and drive to grow comes with a price, well worth the pay. We had some falls and bumps and bruises. All minor casualties, but it's never fun to see you get hurt. My little wild flower, you're growing faster than any baby I know.

Stick it on the fork, Mom

Little Zoe,

Your brain is developing fast. I'm trying to keep up, but until you learn to speak, I will be one step behind. As your wishes evolve, feeding continues to be confusing. You no longer want mushed food, so I've been keeping your meals more textured. Lately you've been rejecting that too, turning your head and locking your chin. Somewhere along the way I discovered that although you might reject food presented on your spoon, you might eat it from mine. You may also lock your mouth as if you can eat no more, but if I give the food to your hand, you chomp it down. For a while we kept you busy with peas and carrots you'd pick, while I sneaked in a few spoonfuls of food. Now you want the fork, and an approaching spoon, in most cases, is an abomination.

I read that when babies start wanting to eat on their own before they actually can, you should give them a spoon just to hold, while feeding them with another. You, Zoe, want a fork, not a spoon. And certainly not an empty one. When I approach you with a spoonful of food, you move your mouth away, and stretch your arm that holds the fork toward me. You want me to stick the bite on your fork. With your little hand, you maneuver the fork toward your mouth and take the bite in. A victorious expression usually follows accompanying our cheers. The only problem, Zoe, is that you have no teeth. There are very few foods out there that I can get soft enough to chew with your gums and hard enough to stay on the fork without spilling. So get those sharp little teeth soon.

Love,
Mommy.

If you're happy and you know it...

... clap your hands!

Baby Zoe, you've been watching us, the grownups, clap our hands. We also practiced clapping together - Zoe's hand and  mommy's hand together make sound: clap clap clap. On April 10 you started clapping on your own, with joy and persistence of a goal well achieved. The following day we Skyped with grandma Roza. You looked straight at the monitor, and displayed your newly earned skill, over and over.

In the meantime you also learned the occasions for clapping: Sometimes we clap when we sing. But we always clap when Zoe pees in her potty, or succeeds in something she's been trying to do, like standing up on her feet without support. A few days ago during dinner you picked the pea from your tray, and put it in your mouth. Papa and I cheered and clapped and continued eating. You repeated the action, looked at us victoriously, and started clapping for yourself. We joined you, proud and entertained. You are the cutest thing.