Ode to Beck

Zora is going through what we call "The Assertive Stage" which involves bursting into tears when she's not allowed to watch Cars, or when, first thing in the morning, I decide to use the bathroom before getting her morning "mulk."

Despite the defiance, she is emminently trainable. When it's time for bed, all we have to say is, "Two pacis and mik-aphone" and the girl toddles into her room. If she's tired, she'll say, "Two pacis and a milk-aphone."

The first time Zora asked for two pacis and a milk-aphone, Rodney cracked up. While he was laughing, she asked, "Where it's at?"

In case you don't get the reference, I'm referring to Beck's "Where It's At."

Where it's at!
I got two turntables and a microphone
Where it's at!
I got two turntables and a microphone

Letting the Cat out of the Spackle

Right now it looks like the closet belched its contents all over our living room. There are rolls of duct tape here, a pile of cords that looks like black and beige spaghetti there, foam paint brushes of various widths, notebooks from the early 1990s, and a red dinosaur bike helmet. There are also three cans of spackle. To a two-year-old, a container of spackle looks suspiciously like a container of Play-Do. Yesterday, Zora picked up the spackle and asked, "What's this?"

"Spackle," I told her.

Zora knit her eyebrows together and studied the container closely. She looked at me with concern.

"Peckles with mama? Peckles with mama? Meow, meow."

Meet Speckles (aka Peckles), the kitten we watched for two weeks while her mama was on an Alaskan cruise:


Rodney and I simultaneously: "Awww!"

Poor Zora. She thought that Speckles was trapped in that little container.

"Speckles is with her mama," I assured Zora. "This is spackle; we use it to patch the wall." I opened the container to show her the contents.

"Peckles with mama," Zora repeated, looking relieved.

Meecia's New Car

I think Zora is more excited than Mauricia about her new car!

Fow Bow!

Addendum: You are not meant to comprehend what Zora is saying; we're her parents and we don't have the slightest idea what she's babbling about. We just admire her gusto!

Busy Morning at the Peygound

Hear No Evil, See No Evil

Rodney's mom told me that when Rodney was little he was terrified of loud noises. One Fourth of July, his dad had to bring him home just as the fireworks began because the noise was just too intense.

Well somebody has inherited her daddy's sensitivity to sound, and regular exposure to these things has yet to ease her anxiety.

The first perp:

When I grind my beans, or if we step foot in a coffeehouse, Zora does this:



She's particularly disenchanted with loud, red items like Frank, the bellowing combine, from Cars,



Tickle Me Elmo,
and our vacuum cleaner.