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.