31 March 2008

The Tooth. The Whole Tooth. And Nothing But The Tooth. And That's The Tooth!

Yesterday during lap number 53 around the condo (SOMEBODY loves to practice walking), Zora started gnawing on my hand and I felt something rough brush across my skin. Could it be? I swiped my finger along her gum. Yes! A wee gerbil tooth.

The OTHER Girl's Socks

[Email from my cousin Tom, with whom we stayed while in Connecticut and the subject of the post Lurve at First Sight]

.. So I thought these might be from my girlfriend – who is short and all, but… I think these might even be a little TOO small for Kelly… (so now Kelly is asking me who the ‘other girl’ is…)


28 March 2008

Harper B!

This is Zora's indomitable cousin Harper B decorating Easter cookies. According to her momma (Aunt Saskia), decorating involves "putting sprinkles on the cookies and immediately licking them off. Anyone want a cookie? Yuck!"

26 March 2008

Lurve at First Sight

This past weekend we hiked up to Connecticut to check in on my mom and visit with my cousin Tom and his girlffriend Kelly. Normally, Zora is a bit skittish around new folks. She stares at them suspiciously with her dark eyes or buries her head in my shoulder. If forced to sit in a foreign lap, tears are a real possibility.

Not so with her Uncle Tom. It was lurve at first sight.

He flashed a grin her way.
She returned the smile.
He poked her belly with a big foam bolster he uses for exercise.
She outright giggled.

You can see the evidence on this nifty slideshow Tom pulled together.

18 March 2008

Zora's Resume -- Eight Months

To use my cute-osity in order to maximize benefits of being a baby.

Skill Sets:
  • Getting up on hands and knees and rocking back and forth (new!)
  • Pushing self backward across the floor
  • Spinning in circles on laminate floors
  • Tumbleweeding across the carpet
  • Waking up in the middle of the night trapped on my tummy
  • Devouring any paper product in sight
  • Peeing whenever diaper is removed (a girl has to mark her territory)
  • Zippers
  • Buttons
  • Blackberries
  • HD TVs
  • Whatever Mommy and Papa are eating
  • Gravity (ongoing studies involving tossing pacifer from various heights)
  • Peekaboo
  • Salsa (Tostitos, mild)

06 March 2008

Lunch with an Octopus

When we first had Zora and were trying to survive those first weeks of parenthood, well meaning friends, family and other parents would advise us that NOW was the time to go out to dinner with our bundle of joy.

"She'll sleep through dinner."

"She'll just lay in her carseat and look around."

"She's so portable now."

I supposed we could've heeded their advice but several things stopped us from doing so:

  • Zora was not a sleepy baby, but rather what her Oma affectionately termed "alert";

  • She loved to look around -- in our arms;

  • She was portable, but required her own entourage to carry around her baby acoutrements (Yes, these were the early days when we thought we needed a bottle, three diapers, and a change of clothes to go to CVS); and

  • We were pooped and in no shape to make public appearances. Think Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter in Sweeny Todd: dark saddlebags of exhaustion hung beneath our eyes and shocks of tangled dark hair sprouted from our heads.

After 924 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at home, we decided to treat ourselves to lunch out at a cute French bistro in Adams Morgan. At six months, Zora was certainly big enough to sit in a high chair, and we could bring some toys with us to keep her entertained, and...

Have you ever had lunch with a octopus?

We set her in the high chair and strapped her in. I use the term "strap" lightly. Do you think that Moby Dick would have been restrained by a cobweb? Me neither.

While I was digging in the diaper bag for her sanctioned toys, Zora lunged for the flatware and smiled as the utensils skittered off the table. Then as I leaned over to pick them up, a napkin came sailing down. And then her pacifier.

"Would you like me to bring some lemons?" the server asked.

For her to suck on? Throw? Be nice, I told myself. He's trying to help.

"No thank you," I smiled.

Then Zora sneezed and the pacifier went flying again.

Then Zora was bored demanded to be picked up.

Then she demanded to be jiggled.

Then she wanted to jump.

Then she decided to try steak frites. Dissatisfied, she knocked my fork to the floor in protest.

Never again.

03 March 2008

Attention! Updated Photos of Moi!

Mom and Dad have finally gotten around to updating the photos on my website. Check out jan_08 and feb_08. Super cute if I do say so myself!