New daycare, new job, new bed

My Dearest Zoe,

In September you started a bilingual new daycare, La Escuelita. You were happy where you are, but we didn't want to pass on the opportunity to learn a language.

We keep thinking if it was worth it, and ask for your feedback. You don't look happy there, and we don't like they way the place is run or how the kids are treated. Luckily you formed a special connection with one of the teachers - Teacher Melly, and she has been watching out for you. But Friday is her last day, so I'm worried about the weeks to come. We wrote a goodbye card for her. You dictated, I wrote - "I miss you, Teacher Melly. I want you to know that I am your very best friend." You also wanted to draw a picture, thinking it might convince her to stay. You are a wild girl, but also very sweet.

We asked you if you wanted to go back to Orca daycare, but you said you wanted to learn Spanish. So we'll test it out for a little longer.

You want me to drop you off and pick you up from school, but I can't always. In fact, since I started a new job, almost always Papa has been dropping you off. You look sad in the morning, and say "I want mama to pick me up."

"Remember you used to pick me up everyday?"
"Yes, but my new job is very busy. And I get stuck in traffic. So I can't make it."
"I want you to lose that job."

Since we had this conversation, I've been trying extra hard to pick you up. I bring a snack, and we hang out a little before we go home. Sometimes we get hot coco from the coffee shop in the corner, or play in the playground. Sometimes papa joins us if we biked that day, and we all bike back home.  I ordered a new bike online - one that I can carry you and groceries at the same time. We'll have a great time together when it arrives. You'll be sitting right behind my saddle, and after daycare,  we can go to PCC for grocery shopping and a treat for my precious one.

Since we moved to our new house, you've been sleeping with us every night. We made a deal that if you sleep in your bed 3 times, we will get you a big girl's bed. And we did. I narrowed down the options to 4 and you picked one that looked like a tiara. We got a mattress from Ikea and it is super comfortable. At night papa and I can snuggle with you and read you books. When it's time to fall asleep, we have to cuddle with you - I wonder if you will ever fall asleep on your own.  After that, it's hit or miss. Sometimes you sleep in your bed, sometimes you come upstairs to the big bed. If I say I don't like it, I'd be lying. You are so cute and cuddly.

Love,
Mommy

New home, new room

Dear little Zoe,

By the time you got used to our beige town-house on 85th Street and mentioned our blue Austin house less and less, we moved again. This time to our own home. It's what they call a fixer-upper, though so far it's been mostly a fixer. We knew what we were getting into, or so we thought, but for the neighborhood, and the lake nearby, we decided that it was worth it.

We packed everything in boxes, a scene you have witnessed many times since birth, and on July 8, we moved. The house did not preserve the historic charm of its 1923 origin, and the lost was not replaced by any modern charm. The place has been under construction since we moved in, and all cleaning efforts were short lived due to dirt and dust generated by constant work. You called it a dirty house, and were not happy. So I told you that the house was a baby that kept pooping on itself, and that we needed to help it grow. You enjoyed the analogy, and played along with it with a much more positive attitude. When you saw a messy corner because we were patching a hole on the wall or the closet rack collapsed, and with it all the clothes, you'd say "the house pooped on itself again."

We were determined to fix your room fast, and before anything else. We discussed the color for your walls, but when you said you wanted a rainbow, I painted all sky blue, to replace the depressing dark blue original. In the pictures below, you can see the prep work, where ceiling and moldings are protected with blue tape and your furniture with plastic.

By the time I was done with two layers of primer and two coats of paint, and million other repairs, I was getting discouraged by the magnitude of the task I put myself into. And the happy little you, already told your teachers and friends at daycare, that mama was going to paint a rainbow in your new room, with butterflies, born out of it's colors, flying up into the sky, as you heard me describe the plan to you and papa. There was no turning back, so forward we charged, with paints, brushes stencils, and the vision of your happiness.

 I made a "swing" shelf with birds that match your furniture color scheme. Papa carefully hung the hooks that hold up the branch.

You love wish berries, though most people call them dandelions.

"Mommy! You made my room just like I wanted!" I was going for your happiness, but your gratitude made the experience sublime.

For a while, your room was the only place we gathered as a family for dinner. "Picnic dinner" we called it, as we spread a blanket and ate on your carpet - always a home cooked meal, I'd like to add.

In the mean time, papa built your closet, so we removed your little girl's armoire and used the space for a big girl's desk and chair, something you've been wanting, ever since you heard papa and I talk about it. It's stocked with new crayons, markers and coloring books, for your enjoyment. I wonder what would occupy my mind instead,  if I haven't had you.

The house is getting less and less poopy every day. We even have grass in the yard, and are building a patio. One night you and I will camp there.

Love Mommy.

You are 3 years old!

My  baby Zoe,

We celebrated your 3rd birthday! You will always remain as my baby, though. Even when you stop asking me to cuddle with you tightly - when it's hot and we are sweating - so you can fall asleep, or let me go to the bathroom without your companionship, even when you stop inviting me to play with you every second we are together, or when you stop the puppy hugs and the juicy kisses, you will still be my curly baby.

We had a great birthday party at daycare. A few days prior, we went to the bakery of the QFC market, so you could browse your cake options in their cake book. You picked a princess cake that included a crown and a scepter you could keep and use. The morning of July 15, you thought it was better to wear a dress for the occasion. After nap time at daycare, papa and I showed up with a pinata shaped like a princess castle, a Strawberry Shortcake balloon,

a freshly baked cake,

and goody bags as gifts for your friends.

Everyone got excited, and fascinated by the candy filled pinata. One girl got jealous and started crying, she never stopped until the party was over. Not sure what the real problem was, poor thing. But the rest, enjoyed the cake, their goody bags and put great effort into breaking the hanging pinata. You took turns to hit it, and hit it, with a bat, over and over, to no avail. It was a sturdy pinata, so the adults, provided some help, until the candy rained down! Oh the lolly pops, the taffy, and the tootsie rolls! A floor covered with candy and and all of you on your knees, picking more, while eating! We put aside one goody bag for your best friend Luca, who is in the Sunny room. It's cute that your best friend is a class up. After the party, we all went out to play in the playground. "Mommy, stay forever!" You said, and didn't let me away from your site. Luca was happy to see you, and gave you a hug, and you girls ran around hand in hand.

But most of the time, you stayed close to the fence, so you could talk to me:

But this was not the end of your birthday. For dinner, we went to your favorite restaurant Duke's Chowder House. It's a totally adult place, but you love it there. We invited our friends Bill and Jen to join us. After dinner, we shared a cake shaped like a hamburger (you thought that cake was funny when we were at the bakery earlier that week) and opened your gifts. A walking and talking Pinky Pie Pony you picked yourself, a small Rapunzel doll with extra clothes you liked "for later," meaning for another occasion in the future, a water gun, and Bill and Jen's Lego for girls!

As part of your coming-of-age process, you are now able to eat olives with seeds, which brought the occasion to discover the big black, meaty Cerignola olives, which are never sold pitted. Now they are your favorite!

Happy 3rd Birthday my lovely little girl!

Mommy.

Fun and games

My lovely little girl,

I'm finally over the guilt of taking you from Elena's class in Austin, although, she is still my favorite teacher. You have a new teacher at daycare. Her name is Brie and she is good! You two get along and she loves you. She thinks you are very sophisticated and smart. I've always known that about you, but it makes me happy to hear it from others. I'm so proud of you.
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A while back, your soccer coach asked each child what they liked most about soccer. All kids mumbled, unable to understand the abstract question. Then it was your turn.
Coach: What do you like most about soccer?
Zoe: Scoring goals.
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Sometimes the sun shines in Seattle. We jumped on our bikes and zoomed to the little beach around the lake.

"You can go topless," I said.
"No. Only boys can go topless," you replied.
"Where did you hear that?"
"At the old daycare," you said.

The water was cold, but you didn't care. You swam and splashed and squealed with joy. You were shaking and your lips turned into ripe blueberries. But there was no way to get you out.
"I'll race you out," papa said.
"No! Race me in," you replied.

I was trying to take your picture, and as usual, you weren't looking at the camera.
"Is there something behind me?" I asked, thinking you would say something like a bird, the lake, people...
"Your back!" you said, lifting your little finger into the sky victoriously, having found the correct answer.

I got us all ice creams, to have the perfect beach experience. "I won't finish it all," you said. "and I will brush my teeth." You were surprised that papa finished all his ice cream.

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As I said many times before, you have a gift for expressing yourself even when you don't know the words.
I want more sliced orange juice - referring to mandarin oranges
Eye gogglers - binoculars
Measuring hammer - caliper
Put on my zucchini - bikini
Zoe, do you want chocolate? No, I want the cold desert - referring to mochi, a Japanese ice cream.
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Zoe: Mommy, these shoes are getting smaller.
Me: Your feet are getting bigger. You are growing.
Zoe: Do you have shoes that are small?
Me: No, I don't. I stopped growing.
Zoe: But you didn't stop learning! We never stop learning.

"I know about boats and animals. I need to learn more about the space and space shuttles."
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We went to the zoo with our friends, and at the gift store, you saw a stuffed pink monkey you couldn't resist. We bought it for you, making you promise not to ask for other toys until the end of the week. You named her Fuzz.  When papa was out playing soccer, I put Fuzz on papa's seat while you and I ate dinner. I pretended Fuzz was papa and you had a blast. The next day, papa put Fuzz on his shoulder and fed her ice cream. "Papa is pretending the monkey is real." You laughed. "Funny, daddy."

A few times when papa was out during dinner I said "Zoe, how nice, you and me, having dinner together." I didn't think much of it, but then, you tried repeating what I said, and asked me to say it again and again, until you learned to say it exactly the same way. Every time you and I are alone at the dinner table, you say "how nice, you and me, having dinner together."

Your mental and linguistic development is ahead of the curve, which is fun and scary. Don't waste it, my lovely.
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You love watching the Powerpuff Girls. They have special powers. They fight crime, and kick Mojo Jojo's ass. Your favorite is Buttercup, the toughest of the three, dressed in green. I thought it would be fun to dress you like her. I got you white tights, converted one of my green tank tops to a dress for you, and tied a black belt around your waist. You went crazy with joy. You ask me periodically, to dress you like her, and we play. Papa pretends to be Mojo Jojo sometimes and you attack.

You really want to be like the Powerpuff Girls. Papa says that to be like them, you need to sleep on your own, because that's what the Powerpuff Girls do. You listen, look sad, but believe him, and reluctantly volunteer to start the night in your bed. Then you come to our bed, proudly saying that you are a Powerpuff Girl, because you slept in your bed. Some nights, you give up the thought of becoming a Powerpuff Girl, and start the night in our bed from the get go.

Another game you like is the Fairy. You ask me to put on your pink wings and a tutu skirt, and you pretend to crash into a tree while flying. I take care of your broken wings with tools in your doctor bag. Then we take turns, over and over again. "Now it's my tuuurn," you say. "Now it's your tuuuurn."

Love, Mommy

Wishes, babies and death - your latest interests

The daisies were in bloom when we went to the park. I let you pick them, knowing the temptation of flower picking for little girls first hand. In passing, I mentioned that when we pick flowers, they die. They don't grow anymore, I explained. I just wanted you to slowly start gaining awareness of your actions.
"Put them back," you said with an expression of distress, motioning me to put the flowers back in the earth. "We can't put them back once we pick them," I said.
"I don't want to pick daisies anymore."

Pointing at the picture of our deceased cat Odysseus, you wanted me to tell you about him. I told you what a special cat he was, and how much we loved him, and how he got sick one day, and died. "And he got better," you said, with excitement. "He died," I said. "He doesn't breath anymore. His heart doesn't beat. He didn't want to die. He loved us very much, and if he met you, he would have loved you too."

You started noticing every use of the word "death" or "dying." and then you said: "Tell me a story about dying, mommy." Not the request I was expecting to have from a 2.5 year old, nevertheless, I wanted to satisfy your curiosity without scaring you, without lying to you and without confusing you.

"Well, Zoe, everything that's alive, dies. Flowers, animals, people." I felt it was easier to focus on the accidental, untimely death of plants, and the natural, age related death of animals and people.
"When we pick flowers, they die." When we don't pick them, they live longer."
"I don't want to die," you said."
"You are very young and healthy, Zoe." Old people die.

This dialogue has been coming up over and over. One day you asked Papa:
"Am I old?"
"No," said Papa. "You are young."
"How old am I?" you asked.
"You are two and a half years old," Papa replied.
"So I AM old," you said.

My little girl, you are not old, but you are very very smart.
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Lately several times a day you've been saying: "I wish we had another baby. We need a head, a belly, toes, legs..."
"Babies first grow inside the belly," I said.
"Will put the baby in MY belly," you said with excitement. "I'll also put some toys, so the baby can play!"
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You blew a dandelion flower into the wind and said "I made a wish."
"What did you wish for?" I asked.
"I wished that you were happy and played with me," you said.
"I AM happy. You make me happy all the time. And we play a lot together, I said."

We were pretending to have a birthday party, and we pretended to blow the birthday cake candle.
"What did you wish for?" I asked
"I wished that you would be so completely proud of me."
I was surprised and proud that you didn't wish for a toy or chocolate, and I tell you at least 3 times a day how proud I am of you. So much so that when we switch roles, and you pretend to be Mommy, and me Zoe, you always say "I'm SO proud of you."
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We've been slowly teaching you the value of saving, not wasting, whether it's money, water or electricity.
The money in your piggy bank is slowly increasing. I asked you what you'd like to buy with it.
"Peanut butter jar," you said.
"You don't need to spend your money on peanut butter. I can buy you that," I said. The truth is, you don't like peanut butter. You see it in cartoons and books, and other kids eating it. But you never want to eat peanut butter when I give it to you.
"A nice big house or a nice small house," you said. You probably heard me say that before.
"That's too expensive. You might not have enough in your piggy bank to buy a house. Papa and I are trying to buy one. What else would you like to buy? Maybe a toy? A candy?"
"I don't need anything."

We were at the drug store where you saw a big fluffy toy sheep. "So wooly, you said and asked to pet it. I so want to get you everything you want. But not only that it is financially unfeasible, it is also wrong. I secretly checked the price, and kept quiet, wishing you wouldn't insist. You must have read my silence - you were always good at reading emotions. After a while you said "we'll put it back." Then you saw a little fan, shaped like a bunny, filled with candy. You played with it, got so excited. "Can we bring this home, mommy?"
"Let's have a talk," I said. "Do you really want it?"
"Yes."
You will not ask to buy another toy today?
"No, promise."
"Ok, Zoe, you can have it."
You have been enjoying your candy filled bunny fan.

I love you.
Mommy.

Words of wisdom

How do you clap with one hand?
Zoe: "You use the other."

Pointing at a tool icon on your toy phone: "This is my tool game. Open it."
Zoe, this phone is not real. We can't play your tool game on this one."
"We can pretend."

Looking at my boring, gray work skirt - "This skirt doesn't make you beautiful."

When it's time to go to bed: "I want a snack plate with olives, cheese, and cornishons."

Looking at a $1 bill: "This is Beethoven!"
That's George Washington, but yes, he does look like Beethoven in that picture.
"Who is George Washington?"
Not sure how to explain the concept of a President, I said "he was the teacher of all the people in America. But he is dead."
"Like Beethoven! Beethoven is dead too."

"You should make couscous." Couscous is one of your favorite foods.

First time skiing and more poop adventures

Dear Zoe,

The plan was to take you sledding while papa and I took turns skiing. At the ski rental store you explored the poles, the boots, told me to get the red ones. They had only black for my size. The parental guilt of doing something fun that yo can't share weighed heavy on us. But you were too little... or so we thought, until we asked if they had equipment for your size. The clerk said yes! The next morning three sets of skis and boots were ready to face the mountain. "The Magic Carpet" kids lift was inconveniently located at the far end of the facility, accessed through a long uphill battle. We marched on, sweating under the weight of skis, poles, coats and the little you.

We were concerned that we might turn you off of skiing, by introducing the activity too early, but you surprised us with your enthusiasm. "Let's do it again." Let's do it again." So up and down we went.

At the end of the day, as we were heading back to the car, you refused to walk, threw yourself on the ground, and ran back to the ski area.

On the way home, we stopped by a Japanese restaurant for dinner where you went to potty with papa. when you came back to the table, you told us what happened:

"I pooped in the potty. You are so proud of me. It makes you very happy. The poop came out, it fell in the water. Plop." Turning to papa, "you were so excited!" It was so big, like papa's." Your hands, showing the size of a big poop, your voice loud and excited, in a Japanese restaurant. We listened, happy.

On another subject, while  putting on your socks, I pointed at your right foot, I said, "Zoe give me your right foot." Shaking your left foot you asked "is this my wrong foot?"

I love you, my moon light.

Kiss,
Mommy

Little soccer player

Little Zoe,

You started playing soccer. Every Sunday papa and I take turns, and either bike or drive to Arena Sports, where you kick ass and charm the world. You look like a professional soccer player, a mom said.

When Coach Jeremy gives his instructions, you look straight at him, listen intently, with the frown you inherited from me, and perform, as instructed.  When he asks your name or the color of your circle, you always answer, and correctly. One of the moms noticed your attentiveness, and said you are so focused! At daycare, on the other hand, the teacher said you do your own thing, and don't follow instructions always. Your teacher in your old daycare would disagree. She used to tell me how you would listen, watch and do everything she used to teach you. Then at home, we would practice the things you learned - building with blocks, Beethoven's deafness, Christopher Columbus and his insistence that the world is round...You are an awesome girl. When there is something to learn, you are all focused and interested. Your current daycare is not the most educational place, so I'm not surprised you drift away.

At soccer, you kick the ball, catch bubbles, play run-and-freeze, build towers with cones and kick them to the ground. We also try to wake up Fred the little soccer mouse by kicking the ball to the walls surrounding the play area.

Soccer is not news to you, since you grew up watching papa play, and always had a ball in your room that we played at home, in the yard, and in parks.

On Monday nights it's papa's turn to play soccer. Last Monday was his first game. We played, read books, and went to bed. Just as you were drifting away, you asked sleepily "where is papa?" "He went to play soccer," I said, and you started crying like it was the end of life.

"I want to play soccer, I want to play soccer."
"You play on Sundays, papa plays on Mondays."
"I want to play now!"
"Papa plays outside, it's cold and dark..."

Nothing I said calmed you down and you cried on. I cuddled with you and eventually you fell asleep. this past Sunday, we went on a trip to an island, so we had to skip soccer. Papa and i made sure not to say or do anything that could remind you of your Sunday practice. Next Sunday is just a few days away.

Love,

Mommy.

When Jacob cried

You didn't know Jacob could cry. Papa put in the batteries, thinking you would enjoy playing with a doll that cries, and stops when you give him the pacifier. Instead, you were concerned, astounded, and almost started crying. We asked you to hold him, give him a pacifier, and make him feel better. "You are his mommy, hold him," we said. You did, reluctantly, and you were deeply disturbed. For a few minutes you were torn between pushing him away, and pleasing us. The pacifier fell. He started crying again. You pleaded we make him stop.

I don't know for sure what disturbed you: Was it Jacob's crying or the process of putting in the batteries, which you described as "surgery"?

We took out the batteries which made you feel better, but you were still affected by the experience. At dinner, you asked for your doll Susan, which you never do while eating. Maybe you wanted to show us that you did care about your "babies." Just not Jacob at the moment. You didn't want Jacob close to you  and it bothered you to look at him.

First we tried an emotional approach, telling you that we loved you even when you cried, then a rational approach, explaining how batteries work - "they make your flashlight shine, and your other dolls sing." I told you about a doll I had when I was your age that could walk when we put batteries inside. You listened, and understood. I put Jacob visible in your room, in his stroller, so you see him often, and get over the fear. We thought that all was well. The next evening you told papa "we should give Jacob away and get another doll." Later I asked you if you liked Jacob. You didn't say no. Instead you said you liked Andre, a friend of yours from daycare. Tonight we'll make muffins. Maybe we can give one to Jacob.

Kiss,
Mommy