Chocolate factory and other adventures

My little Zoe,

About 3 weeks ago you were sitting on the potty with the tablet on your lap, playing a game, relaxing, like papa taught you, by taking a big breath, and dropping your arms to the side. We were trying to get you to poop. Then there was sound, to which you responded 'it's just gas." But when we looked, it was poop! We all rejoiced, and hugs, kisses, and chocolate followed. Papa declared that the next day, we are going to the chocolate factory. At Theos Chocolate Factory you had many samples and learned about the art of chocolate making. We also bought some to bring home, since chocolate has been your reward / bribe, in the process of potty training for poop.

Unfortunately, this potty experience has not been a turning point in your poop practices. You still prefer to poop on yourself, and with our insistence, you poop in the potty 50% of the time. If left to your heart's desire, you walk away, pretending to be interested in a toy or a game, and secretly push out your business. The other night, I attempted to come near you, and you shooed me away with the authority of a school teacher "Go back to your seat, Mom!"

At times we give you chocolate randomly, but ask that you promise to poop in the potty later. You promise, but don't always keep your word. I think you generalize this practice of post potty chocolate to everyone in the family. Sometimes I get chocolate for you and papa on the way from work, and you say with comprehension "papa will eat it when he poops in the potty."

You've grown a lot since we moved to Seattle. You're a little person running around the house, talking, passing opinions and doing whatever she wants. When I come home from work, you are ready to play. Lately, the dinner table has been your tent. The Swifer mop your witch's broom. "Come on, hop on the broom," you say, and we fly. "Come on, get in the tent. You are Zoe, I am mommy, papa can be the monster." You get excited, run around screaming, and pull me to the bathroom for hiding, so the monster won't catch us. Then your eyes set on the chest in the corner, and we go treasure hunting, sneaking around papa, who is instructed by you to play the part of the gatto who wants the chest.

The other day I put a tutu skirt on you and gave you a kitchen brush as your magic wand. You were ecstatic in your role as a fairy. Running around, beaming with joy, swooshing your wand and making wishes. We look at you and marvel how easy it is to make a child happy. "I wishhhhhhhhh that you play with me!" How can we say no to that? "Let's go to my room." In your room, you get on your tiptoes, and turn on the light. Just a few weeks ago, you would call me and say "it's spooky here. Make it light."

Here is the tricky part to all this playtime that only parents know. We do all this while putting our work stuff away, preparing dinner and taking care of all the household chores that need to be done before bedtime. But you know we have to go to work and understand why "you go to work so you can buy me toys." Even though I said I have to work to buy toilette paper, pay for parking at the zoo, pay for daycare and the house we live in, the toy part stuck more.

We are so lucky to have you, Zoe.

Kiss
Mommy

We are in Seattle!

My little girl,

On October 19 we got on an airplane and moved to Seattle. You, me, papa, and the gatto. Poor gatto wasn't happy during the flight. For about two weeks, we all stayed at the little room where papa lived while we were still in Austin. Tiny and dirty. One day, you politely said that you liked the blue house better - referring to the one in Austin - and that you wanted to go to your daycare. I explained, trying to hide all emotions, that we would soon move to a nice big house, and that a big truck would bring your crib and all your toys. A few days later, during a usual resistance to bath time, you swung your index finger up and down in one big move of defiance, and declared "I don't like this house!" Both papa and I tried to explain again that this was a temporary place which we didn't like either, and that soon we would be move to a big house, you would have a pretty room with orange walls.

Next day it was my turn to be upset. I don't remember what triggered it. Was it because I was allergic in the house and couldn't stop coughing due to gatto's nearby poop box? Because we had to be out all day, without a car, and it hadn't stopped raining since our arrival? Was it because you were forever potty training and it was inconvenient more than ever to clean and change? Or because you wouldn't let me be on the phone for interviews and appointments? Maybe it was because you spilled all the lentils on the already dirty floor although I asked you to be careful. All that said, probably I got upset not because of you, but because of something papa hasn't done, that exasperated given the circumstances. So you came to me and said "Mommy, I will make you happy in this little house." Every parent can recognize how special that statement is.

Speaking of making your parents happy: Every time we get a little upset for whatever reason - you insist on pooping on yourself and deny it, kick us, scream in public, or don't clean up after yourself - you say "you are happy! You are happy!" If we reply in the negative, such as no Zoe, we are sad / disappointed / angry, you get very upset and start crying. I think these things mean something more to you. And when I say "Zoe, you make me happy all the time," you become very content.

Love,
Mommy

Your words of wisdom

Dear Zoe,

It must be nice to speak your mind without being inhibited by politeness or decency. Here are some of your latest declarations:

"Put milk in your boobs."

"You are a good cleaner. I will let you clean my butt."

"You should buy me this."

Zoe: "I smell something."
Mommy: "What is it?"
Zoe: "It's my poop."

A sound from Zoe's butt: "Prrt."
Zoe: "It's gas. We should go to the gas station."

"Nine [grandma Roza] is old."

Kiss,

Mommy

Dr. Zoe

I was wearing a T-Shirt stamped with cat heads. You looked at it and asked if i was going to the hospital. I couldn't see the connection at first, but then I remembered that the only other time I wore that shirt was when I went for my last surgery. It was almost a month a go. I can't believe you remembered this detail.

Lately, you've been playing the doctor, referring to yourself as Dr. Tony, the pediatric orthopedist that looked at your cute little feet and gave you a lolly pop. You liked him before we went to his office, thinking his name was Dr. Pony! When you two met, you pointed at yourself and said "I'm a doctor." So I bought you a doctor's bag.

Yesterday, you decided we needed to go to the hospital, and do surgery on my nose. As you led me to the "hospital" you said "I'm not a bad doctor, I'm just small." It takes a lot observation, thought, and awareness to know that a doctor should be older, and that a patient would be nervous if he/she is not, and that reassurance is needed. You always surprise me with your intelligence.

You told me that the surgery is not going to hurt, and operated on me using all your tools.

"Am I ok,Dr.?"
"Not yet."

Then suddenly you declared I was a donkey and started riding on my belly.

Love,
Mommy

$25 kids' meal

At a Japanese restaurant in Seattle, we ordered some sashimi and sushi samplers, and some pieces with cooked fish for you. When the plate with colorful raw fish arrived, you dug in, picking one piece after another, dipped each in the spicy soy-wasabi, and gobbled it down, the previous piece still hanging from the side of your mouth. We attempted to take a few pieces, but quickly found the effort futile and ordered another plate to share between me and papa.

Papa took you to your very first soccer game, wearing the Seattle team jersey he bought for you online. At the game you watched people kick the ball, and ate chips. Meanwhile I took advantage of a rare chance to be alone, rented a bicycle and explored the town. In the afternoon i took you to a playground where you pretended to drive me to a soccer game. You gave me a soccer shirt, and chips to eat.

Not that you ever want to go to bed. But when we go to Seattle, it's even worse. Anything to get between a private moment between me and papa.

At daycare, Ms. Elena taught you about Beethoven. When you hear classical music, you point at the space between your ear and where the music flows and say "this is Beethoven."

We've been potty training. First day without diapers you had three accidents at daycare. Ms. Elena looked worn out and frustrated when I picked you up, and at night she told her husband about you. Since then, you made progress. Days when I come home with a bag of dirty laundry are getting lesser and lesser. Some days, you make it through daycare with no accident at all. Unfortunate at home it is a different story. With me, you act as though potty training never existed. When papa is around, you tell us when you need potty. Why not when it's only the two of us? Today I bought a box of dried cranberries. I decided to bribe you. For every potty you will get three cranberries. You've already proven that you are smarter than me. When you wanted to eat cranberries, you said you needed potty, although only one drop came out. Later you peed in your diapers again.

You love listening to stories from when you were a baby. "Tell me a story about baby Zoe." "Tell me another story..."

Kiss,

Mommy.

Post surgery

Mommy, did you have surgery?

Yes, baby.

Can I kiss it?

Yes, baby.

I love you.

I love you too, my Zoe. I'm so lucky to have you.

I have a motherly lecture for you:

We went through some tough months lately, family being apart, papa having to live without us, with his sandwich nights in a dirty little room, me dealing with health issues, surgeries, and looking after you in a way that makes me proud and you happy... What makes our family strong is that we are strong individually. Know that you come from tough parents, and be a tough cookie - you already show signs.

Developments at 2 years plus

I used to roll my eyes, listening to parents tell how many times they celebrated their child's birthday that year... After we celebrated yours in Seattle with papa, we celebrated it again in Austin, with Nine, and again, at daycare, with your friends. Your happy face, your awareness of being the special child for the day - all worth breaking my views prior to motherhood.

We also went to the doctor for your wellness exam. You sealed your first two years of life at 88cm and 12kg.

Your linguistic development broke loose, and has been leaving us spell-bound daily... and sometimes sad. Papa's last night in Austin, you sat on his lap, and concluded your story with "I will never see you again." And when you and I came back from Seattle the other day, you said "I miss papa, I want to live with papa, I want to hug him..." and then you added "I want to kiss him."

When I'm driving: "Be careful mom, a car is coming."
At all times: "Do you want to play with me, mommy?"
Talking to the statue of a troll under a bridge in Seattle: "Bye Troll, I will come visit you again later," and turning to papa to explain your behavior, "I used my manners."
"I want a purple plump." - meaning, plum.

Tomorrow, you are moving up a class at daycare. This move is earlier than planned, but you are sharp as a knife, and you learn fast ,and you know and love the teacher and the students. So you'll be fine. Best of all, your teacher, Elena, will insist on potty training. Tomorrow we will go to daycare with underwear. No diapers!

Kiss
Mommy

Papa made poop

My little girl,

You were playing in the bathroom, while papa was taking a bath. Then you looked at him studying his body, pointed at his crotch, and said "papa made a poop." We smiled, appreciating your logic, and explained that it was not poop. Papa is a boy, and you and mommy are girls, we said.

Love,

Mommy

Visiting Papa in Seattle

Months passed and your birthday did not arrive. Listening to you talk about it changed from adorable to sad. You've been waking up singing "happy birthday to Zoe," asking "is it my birthday?" and talking about cakes. I said "not yet," "soon," and tried to explain the right date through references to moon's cycles, since you are familiar with the concept. Just so you knew I wasn't giving false hope, I described the things we would do on your birthday. A big round cake with candles, balloons, boxes wrapped in colorful papers with surprise gifts inside, and the "happy birthday to Zoe" song - things you witnessed in books and through friends' birthdays.  But the disappointment in your eyes got deeper each day it was not your birthday. Your agony was a consequence of your intelligence. Most kids your age don't know birthdays. Your awareness turned this waiting into a demoralizing experience, and I decided to end it.

We bought tickets to visit papa in Seattle two weeks before your birthday. What better time to celebrate, with papa present, and only two weeks away from the real date? Plans were made, gifts researched, bought, wrapped, hid away. As time approached, excitement rose. Papa's text messages poured in, impatient to see us. Papa researched all things to do to make our visit fun. Zoo, aquarium, the Tutankhamen exhibit... We refined details of your birthday party, taking into account the time difference, meals and nap time so you make the most of it without interference of physical needs. 

Close to midnight, on June 28, you were bouncing in papa's arms at the Seattle airport, smelling the bouquet of flowers he handed to me. The next day, we bought balloons and a lemon birthday cake, insisting that the unwilling baker add extra flowers and butterflies, and secretly brought it all to papa's tiny residence. When you woke up from your nap, the scene was ready!

That big box contains many boxes of nicely wrapped gifts. And don't miss the ones under the coffee table.

Your pretty cake:

Blowing the candles:

The rest of our trip was awesome too. Seattle's friendly weather - yes, coming from Texas... - and European civic sense allowed us to enjoy the streets and parks on foot. We experienced the beauty nature could offer, without mosquitoes or heat.

At the zoo:

At the aquarium, avoiding to touch the sea creatures:

They still gave you a whale face paint:

At the park, being chased by papa:

On a tree, monkeying with mommy:

The three of us shared the big bed each night and were all very sad to separate when departure day came. The morning after, while taking a bath, you asked about papa. I told you that he will come to see you very soon.

Love,
Mommy.

Today I learned...

... that I can't shelter you from life. I've been avoiding the princess culture and merchandise targeted at little girls like you. I didn't want you to think of women, so early on, as helpless dependents, incapable of thought or action, whose only aspiration is a rich husband that they can get only if they are pretty.

You needed new bibs. At the store close to my work choices were limited, and the only one in the right price and size range, had princesses printed on. Since I never exposed you to princesses, and never even used that word, I saw no big harm in having one such item. I reluctantly completed my purchase, and at home, showed you the new bib as a matter of fact. At dinner, when Nine Roza (she is visiting) asked you which bib you wanted to use, you said "The Princesses." Where did you learn that? You're not even two. 


Kiss,
Mommy

Papa is paving the way to Seattle

My little girl,

Papa got a new job in Seattle. This is our chance to leave Texas, something we've been wanting and trying to do for a long time. Papa left yesterday on a 3.5 day drive, his car packed with essentials. He is sad to be apart from us, and laments that he'll miss out on your growth and on the fun - flying you like an airplane on his long legs, watching you get excited while viewing Dora, chasing you around the house as you yell "I'm running naked," practicing the alphabet with you in the bathtub, and the list is long.

All other life form is staying behind - you and I, Alcatraz, and the plants. I'm looking for ways to join papa without having to quit my job. At some point we'll just go, with or without a job, and be all together again. Until then, it will be challenging for us all.

On the way home from daycare yesterday, we got stuck at every possible red light. It had been a long day. I was tired, not feeling well, and I was sad with papa gone, and still feeling the effects of surgery. At one of the lights I turned around and said "I love Zoe." Your unexpected reply "I love mamma" made up for everything. Of all the good things that happened to us, you are the best of them all.

And in fact, many good things happened to us this year. Only a year a go we were living on the creepy East side, concerned about income and expenses, and the future looked bleak. Then I got a good job, we moved to a nice neighborhood, papa found an exciting job in a beautiful city... Too bad things can't be perfect. But we'll get over this and be all together.

Love,
Mommy

Little things to remember

Little Zoe,

Here are a few of everyday scenes to remember:

We were having dinner at a friends' house who own a big dog that loves to eat human food. It was getting late, so while waiting for dinner, I gave you a piece of chicken. You ate it with appetite as you explored your surroundings. The dog, in the meantime was following you around. When you were done, I gave you another piece. The dog snooped closer, and quick as a flash, snatched the chicken from your hand. Shocked, you started crying, "my chicken, my chicken." We held you and explained that the dog was hungry too. Later you were playing with Victor's toys, pretending to make soup. I asked about the ingredients, and whether you added chicken as well.  You said, "no, dog ate chicken."

When you saw the gift I bought for Oona's birthday, you got excited: "open! open!" you said. I explained that it was for Oona, and I knew you understood, but you kept insisting with that little smile of yours that I open the box. As a kid, I remember buying gifts for friends' birthdays, and wanting to keep it. I figured most kids are the same. When you insisted, I pulled out a second box, with the same toy, and gave you your gift. You were happy. Later I learned that Charlotte's mom did the same.

On Charlotte's birthday I asked if you wished your friend a happy birthday. You faced Charlotte, and started singing "Happy birth day to Charlotte." Charlotte's mom and I were spellbound at how beautifully you sang the song. We went quiet and listened to you, teary eyed.

When I had a surgery, Papa brought you to the hospital after daycare. When you saw me, you understood it was serious, but you weren't scared. You just wanted to be close to me. I explained that I was hurting, and that I had a booboo. At night you both stated in the room with me. In the morning, I woke up to your voice calling "mammina, mammina" and your foot steps, running toward me. You got off your bed, climbed up next to me, cuddled, and fell asleep again.

Me, Mine, I

Baby Love,

Lately Me, Mine and I have become the words of your choice. Based on my readings about child development, this is supposed to be normal, but I wonder if you are taking it too far. Maybe because you're a first born. But I think the other culprit is daycare. They don't do a good job at teaching you about "sharing." We try to counterbalance this at home, and I hope you'll grow out of it at some point.

On the other hand, sometimes you're very conscious of others. When you notice that a dish is missing on my or papa's plate, you put it on, and you even share your very last olive, which is your favorite thing in the world.

On another topic, here are some cute things you've been saying lately:

”I need help” - when you want assistance with something you are doing, such as putting on my pajamas. "I do it. I do it" - when you want to do things on your own, without help.
"For me?" - When you see something you like, such as a soap bar, a brochure, or anything else.
Patting the space next to you in bed, you say "Sleep right here." - When you want mommy to lie down next to you until you fall a sleep.

Love,
Mommy

New class

My little baby,

Today was your first day in your new class, and a new teacher.

For the last two weeks you've been spending a little time each day in this class, with the "older" kids, to get acclimated to your prospective environment. And today you made the ultimate move. Your new class is called "The Ducklings." I've been preparing you as best I could, by telling you how much you've grown, and that you'll be moving to Ms. Erica's class with Charlotte, Ellie, and Oona, because you're not a baby anymore. I've been telling you that you'll still see Ms. Elena in the playground and around the building... Ms.Elena will still be teaching the Lady Bugs class.

I was nervous dropping you off today. You looked sad, a little confused, and didn't want me to leave, although you didn't resist either. Ms. Erica offered to take you to the window to wave goodbye. I think that's a very sad scene. I know you miss Ms. Elena, and it will take some getting used to the way Ms. Erica runs her class. But you'll be learning more things by being with your peers and older kids.

You already know most of the kids in your new class, because when you first joined daycare, you were together. Slowly each child moved up a class. You were the youngest, so you joined them last. We could have waited two-three more months, but you are so far ahead of everyone else, and the new kids that joined Ms. Elena's class are younger and so much shorter than you, you looked like their babysitter. And now, you are the youngest again.

When I came to pick you up, you were playing with Jacob. You all ran to me. Alexander started screaming "Zoe's mom, Zoe's mom," and pointed at my picture on the door. All the kids asked for their mommy. Some got tears. I told each one that I came a little early today, and that his/her mom will come very soon. Then we all played together.

Love,
Mommy

Twirling mommy around your little finger

Baby Zoe,

You read me like a book, and manipulate me, just to delay bedtime. Eventually I figure out your game, but you modify it, and always stay one step ahead.

Initially, when we would put you in bed, you'd ask for Agua-Milk, Agua-Milk, drink a few sips, give the cups back, lie down, sit up and start asking for Agua-Milk over and over and over again.

Then you learned to say "Ham hungry." Having figured out that mommy could never let you go hungry, you added that to your nightly repertoire. Initially I believed you, event felt guilty for having sent my little baby to bed hungry. Many a nights, we cut short our efforts to put you to sleep, went to the kitchen, gazed at the fridge, looking for things you wanted to eat. Eventually I figured out that you were tricking me just to stay up, so you had to find another mommy weakness.

Your new game is "pipi," When we put you in bed, you want to use the potty to pee, although the convenience of peeing in your diapers doesn't bother you at all during the day. You fooled us a few times. We took you to the bathroom, excited that you wanted to use the potty, removed your diapers, waited, proud and happy, and waited, and waited, and no pee came out.

Although you fool us, these tricks also prove that you're a smart little girl that takes notice of things that matter to us.

Kiss,

Mommy.

Long sentences

Baby Zoe,

Last week when I came to pick you up from daycare, you were on the seesaw. When you saw me, you ran to me and sang "seesaw up and down, seesaw up and down" For months, you enjoyed listening to others sing that song you you, as you moved up and down, and now, you are proudly singing it to me.

When your eye got infected you said "my eye hurts" and when you were hungry, you asked for "more soup please."

On the way home from daycare, I've been often telling you that soon you'll be able to tell me everything about your day, as in "mommy, today we played outside, mommy, today we drew pictures and sang songs, mommy, the lunch was delicious..." That day, Zoe, is very close.

Love,
Mommy

Counting, and the alphabet

Baby Zoe,

Sitting on the couch, reading a book, as we often do, I asked: "Zoe, how many buckets are on this page?" You pointed at each one, and counted "one, two, three." Also, you almost mastered the alphabet from A-Z.

Papa, I, and the Sesame Street have been eager to teach you the numbers and the alphabet. Don't think it's all work and no fun. We bought colorful letters and numbers that stick on the bathroom wall. We sing the ABCs during bath time, and you enjoy it.

You used to resist our attempt to stretch your foot to lengthen your Achilles tendon. One day papa started singing the alphabet as he did the stretching. When he was done, you offered your other foot, and asked him to sing again, and again, switching feet with each replay. This is how we discovered that you liked to sing the alphabet. Over time, you joined in the song, and now, you can sing almost all of it on your own.

Love,
Mommy.

Your first snow, and all about shapes

Baby love,

We went on a ski trip, where you saw snow for the first time, in Breckenridge, Colorado."White white" you said, pointing at things around. "Cold" you said, holding your upper arm with the opposite hand. In the mornings we dropped you off at daycare - the hardest part of the day for me and you - and papa and I went skiing. We picked you up at 3:30 and the party started! We went sledding in the red sled we bought at the local grocery store. Imagine going to a grocery store in Texas - what recreational activity equipment can we buy?

We relaxed in the outdoor hot tub, overlooking snow covered peaks, walked under the stars pointing at them as they twinkled, played in the snow, making snowballs, cuddled at night to sleep all together, and woke up to make breakfast. At the hotel room, you enjoyed drawing with your crayons, making shopping lists, and playing with the little soaps and shampoo bottles. At daycare, you stopped crying once I was out of sight - I know, because I called them every day. You created artwork with colorful crayons, hand paints and glitters, played with blocks and read books. Every day you went on a buggy ride, watching the skiers and the snow, which you loved. Your teachers noticed your musical talent. You made a musical instrument, and I'm told that you danced to the beat. Overall the daycare was ok. By day 3, which was your last day, you didn't cry at drop off, and excited to show me what you did. One thing bothered me about the daycare - that when I called and picked you up, each teacher said you had a wonderful time, that you ate great, and slept immediately and that you were having a lot of fun. Liars. I figured you weren't suffering and that you were moderately content, but you were not having an awesome time. In fact, one time I called a man answered the phone and said that it was nap time and that you were fussing a little and that the teacher was reading you a book to calm you down. And when I went to pick you up, the teacher made no mention of this and said you had a wonderful day, you ate and slept great. Liars. I know my baby.

The best part of the day for you was spending time with your sled. You didn't leave the hotel room without it, and dragged it behind, on snow and asphalt. In one of the slopes the sled accelerated and flipped over with you face down on the snow. You cried a little and jumped right back on to sled. We had a visitor friend who said his son would have cried inconsolably had this happened to him, forget about getting back on the sled. And there you were, asking for "more more" in your sign language, as well as speech.

In this trip we also discovered how much you knew about shapes. We've been practicing with shapes since you were a little baby, and I knew you could say circle, heart, star, but I didn't know the extent of your understanding of other geometric shapes. We were eating at Modis, a nice restaurant that charged the same dollar amount for pig cheeks and lamb fillet, which annoyed papa, since pig cheeks are supposed to be cheap and affordable by the poor. I picked an empty plate on the table and said, "look Zoe, this plate is square." To which you replied "circle," and made a circular motion around the circular plate you had in front of you. Then, you took the square plate, flipped it over, and said "oval" motioning the oval shaped stamp at the back side. You are too young to know these things. We have to get you a good education and you have take advantage of your brain. Don't waste it, baby love.

Mommy

Your new bedtime routine

Baby Zoe,

For months, after bath time, papa and I spent an hour each night, trying to get you to sleep, dealing with every demand you had to avoid lying in bed - milk, water, Elmo videos, book, book, book, toy, song, "more more" song... When nothing helped, we lay down on your carpet, pretending to sleep, making a floor bed for you between us, using you comforter as a mat, and covering you with a blanket. You brought your little pillow, Kitty, and Elmo to our floor bed, and we all waited for you to fall asleep. It's been slow and exhausting.

We gave up... We decided to watch TV in the dark, and let you join us. When I noticed you were tired, I asked, Zoe is it time to sleep? You disappeared, and came back with your Kitty, Elmo, pillow and a blanket. Then you went back inside, and came back, dragging comforter, to use as a mat to sleep on. We couldn't believe our eyes. You were tired and ready to sleep, but didn't to be alone in your room. So we prepared you a bed on the couch, between us, where you slept. This kept happening night after night, and now, it has become the norm. Lately, if you get sleepy in the car or on a trip, you say "mat, blanket, sleep."

Kiss,

Mommy.

Marco, Marco

Baby Zoe,

You started calling Papa by his name. A few weeks a go, you approached the bedroom where he was, and called out Marco Marco Marco. Sometimes you use both designations together, as in: Marco Papa, Papa Marco, at other times, you simply say Papa. You also started calling me Mommy and Mommys. Sometimes you say all 3 in one go: Mamma, mommy, mommys.  And at daycare, some call you Zozo.

Speaking of daycare, I dropped you off this morning, and a big part of my day was ruined. I opened the fridge to put in your lunch, and there it was, your box of fruit from the day before. The three olives I included as a surprise were there too! You would NEVER not eat olives. Turns out, your teacher forgot to give you your fruit box at the end of your meal. I've seen your friends cry, watching other kids eat fruit, when their moms forget to send some. They cry, reach their little hands to take a few pieces from their friends, but the teacher moves them away, saying, "No, that's not yours. I'm sorry, your mom didn't send any." They don't let you share, even when there is extra. They throw it away. Having seen all that, and knowing how much you love fruit (your teacher tells me you always finish your fruit and eat it with appetite, homp homp homp) it made me angry and sad that you sat there watching others eat, while your delicious kiwi, tangerine and olive mix went to waste. I'm sorry little one. I wish I was there to give you your fruit box.


Love,
Mommy

Poop - from denial to acceptance

Mommy: "Fewww, smells. Zoe, did you poop?"
Zoe: "No."
Papa: "Zoe, hai fatto pupu?"
Zoe: (Looking down in embarrassment, shaking your head, moving away) "No no no."

Baby Zoe, for many months, you denied having pooped. I could tell you were confused about how we knew, even though you said "no." Yet, you stuck with your initial denial all the way, until we carried you to the bathroom to change. We tried ways to make you feel comfortable - explaining that everyone poops, declaring that we needed to poop, making the doll push and poop... Papa developed a fun procedure where he would show you the poop in the diaper, drop it in the toilet, and sing "bye bye pupu," as you flushed and watched it go. Although not enough to change your behavior, I think this fun approach changed your attitude toward pooping.

Last week we upgraded your potty from a container sitting in the bathroom, to a small toilet seat that fits right on top of the regular toilet seat. You loved it, and have been wanting to sit on it for fun. The other night, at the end of the dinner you shared your most private secret - "Poop," and pointed toward the bathroom. We rushed in, seated you on your seat, waited a few seconds, and there it was, a raisin size poop. We waited a little longer, knowing there was more to come, but not just yet.  This was big progress! Although you weren't ready to release it all, you were able to identify the need, and asked to be taken to the bathroom. The rest came later on your diaper.

Love,
Mommy

Visit to Istanbul

Baby love Zoe,

Papa jokes that I make the big bucks now. I earn ok, but work gets in the way of your blog. In some ways our quality of life dropped since I started my new job. I used to experiment with interesting dishes and prepare appetizer plates. Now I just make sure the dishes I cook are healthy, and they are pretty boring. Big part of weekends are dedicated to errands, although we make sure to turn those into fun expeditions for you. Not that we're complaining. We prefer this scenario over not making ends meet. You continue to display exciting signs of growth everyday. As time goes by, I forget some of them if I don't write them down. As for those that I do remember - it's not the same as a fresh report. Over a month a go we went on a trip to Istanbul and Budapest, and I still didn't write about that. So here is a summary.

We left on December 21st. Nine Roza and Dede Avram greeted us at the airport, joyous to see you. Nine held her arms out in invitation, and you, smiled and went to her, like slipping into comfortable pajamas. Our guess is that you recognized her from when you were a baby. That encounter set the tone between you two for the rest of the trip. You and Nine shared many games and household adventures. You drew pictures, played with my old dolls, sang songs, dressed up, and explored the apartment, discovering the exciting detergent closet, laundry pins, scarves, shoes, and the secret kitchen balcony, where you would hide, closing the door behind you, and if anyone dared open, you'd say "No!"

You even wore the dress that belonged to Nine when she was a baby. A dress that is now 63 years old!

It was hand-sewn, especially for Nine, using pure wool fabric.

Dede, on the other hand, wasn't as fortunate. You avoided him, unless you wanted to watch Elmo on the computer, clip laundry pins on someone, or eat olives. In those cases, whatever it was that kept you away from him, went away, and you climbed on his lap like a little monkey. The apartment was decorated in your honor, with balloons and party supplies.

 In Istanbul we visited many cool places, such as Yildiz Park,

the Maiden Tower,

...ate the Black Sea signature hamsi fish,

...and  kofte on the shores of the  Bosporus.

Also, you received your second ever haircut, crying your heart out from first snip to the last. This time the lolly pop didn't do the trick.

We also met with relatives -  my uncle and his family, and their neighbor Yasemin. I wouldn't have thought of mentioning Yasemin in your blog, had it not been for your enthusiasm to be in her company. You attacked her with love, gave her free hugs, followed her home, and didn't want to leave. We also met with my grandmother - your great grandmother, and washed your butt in her tub, where my butt was washed many times, when I was a baby.

While in Istanbul, we took a trip to Budapest, equipped with additional arsenal of winter clothes for you, compliments of grandparents. Budapest was ok. Years of communism, post communist economic hardship, and the effects of cold weather and non-Mediterreanism... A pretty city that lacked charm. Our hotel was nice, and the owner or manager that we met as we were leaving, was delightful, and spoke fluent Italian.

You and Papa shared a Kurtosh Kalach, a gigantic cylinder dough dipped in cinnamon. The most popular tourist food recommended by a tour guide.

We also managed to visit the famous synagogue as we were heading back to the airport, after multiple failed attempts. Here is a picture of you, studying the names on the leaves of a holocaust memorial.

On our last night in Istanbul, while Papa and I packed, you fell asleep watching Elmo, Nine and Dede watching you.