Nose Miner's Daughter

This morning when I dropped Zoe off at daycare there was a very sweet exchange between a mother and her daughter. They were racing to the door and giggling together and just generally having a good time.

As the mother signed her daughter in, daughter clasped closely to her side I noticed that the little one was picking her nose rather enthusiastically. I don't mean half heartedly at all...a genuine mining expedition. And then...

She
Ate
It.

That wasn't done absently either. She looked at it, thought about it, popped it in mouth and smacked her lips delicately as if letting a good wine "finish".

The world sort of stopped for me in that moment, and in slow motion I saw her mother bend down and kiss her on the lips completely unaware of what had just taken place.

Inside my head I could see myself screaming slow motion-like, like in the movies "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" but nothing came out.

I just stood there frozen in awe and horror. The 3 year old that always resides in the back of my head cackled nastily and chanted "you just kissed a booger mouth, you just kissed a booger mouth". I felt my mouth curl into a little half smile and thank GOD for that little 3 year old in my head because the woman looked at me just then and I must have still been smiling because she said "I bet you can't wait until she's old enough for this stuff".

Yeah lady. I can't wait. And when my time comes I bet I'll never even think of it.

But until then...YOU JUST KISSED A BOOGER MOUTH.

My Gal!

The Sleep of the Innocent

My friend George always says when he sees Zoe sleep that he wishes he could sleep like that without the aid of drugs. (The prescription kind lest you get a poor image of my friend George).

Zoe is one of those kids who doesn't want to sleep because she's afraid she might miss something. She's been known to wake herself up from a nap when she hears laughter (especially if it's Mom, Bridget and I all laughing. I think she gets confused because we all sound alike). She is such a little a diva already.

When Happy Baby Monkey gets tired it goes a little something like this:

Stage 1 - "The Long Blink Goodnight". In this stage Zoe opens her eyes as widely as possible in order to communicate that is still awake. It takes FOREVER for her to blink, but when she finally does it's a long blink. The next one is a little longer, then a little longer. I swear to God she's a like a weight lifter who's maxed out the weights at the end of his reps. I want to offer to spot her or something.

Stage 2 - "Sleep is for Doody Heads" When the weight of her eyes finally gets the better of her she begins to thrash her head back and forth as if vigorously denying the exhaustion will somehow make it go away. It's actually kind of freaky if you watch her, because she drools a lot right now and it would be easy for us new parents to think she's having a seizure or something (David, don't tell anyone that I actually thought she was having one in the car that day).

Stage 3 - "Elvis the Pelvis" Pretty recently Zoe has begun doing what can only be describes as a pelvic thrust while sitting in her bouncy chair. It's pretty funny, but it is effing HYSTERICAL when she adds to the drooping lids, thrashing head scenario. It's like watching an Elvis concert back in the 50's. I've often teased David who affectionately refers to his job as her Daddy as being primarily to "keep her off the pole" that he's not doing a very good job.

Stage 4 "What Sleep May Come". When she finally surrenders to sleep, it's not without a fight or her own particular flair. There is this big sigh, one final head roll and then she's OUT. But her little fists stay curled up so tight in defiance and her monkey feet clasped together, occasionally twitching like a cats tail. It's like she wants the universe to know that she's asleep but she's pretty pissed about it. We know at that stage not to move her. She's not sleeping really deeply. When the fists finally relax and those feet finally separate that means she has finally acknowledged her fate and, as with all other of her pleasures, has surrendered to it completely.

Singer of Songs

I used to be a rational adult. It's not that I don't have a fun side. I think that most people who know me will tell you that I have a real soft spot for bathroom humor and can be a pretty funny person.

I never thought I'd be the parent who sang the songs. You know which ones. The ones you sing them to make them laugh, get them to poop, get them to stop crying, etc.

Zoe likes anything sung to the tune of the old Fraggle Rock theme song but most especially she likes the tune to "Clementine".

I can't get it out of my head:

"Oh my punkin, Zoe Duncan
Oh my punkin Zoe Mine
You are sweet and oh so pretty
oh my punkin Zoe mine"

There's more, and it changes every time usually imploring her to do something like stay still or poop - but I'll spare you.

What's worse is when I sing it I sound drunk. What I'm even more afraid to admit is that I like singing it.

Da-Feet

You're probably wondering by now why the hell this blog is called Happy Baby Monkey.

Zoe has this thing with her feet. We noticed about a month or so ago that she curls her feet when she sleeps. Dad mentioned that she was like a monkey or a bird - her toes curled to help her hang on the branch when she sleeps. I almost peed my pants I laughed so hard. If your a die hard creationist, please chill out because we're not making an evolutionists statement here.

We're just saying my daughter has some issues with her paws!

She grabs things with them, splays them independently like fingers, grabs things between her feet as if they were hands and most recently has begun to "wring" her feet when upset or angry.

Seriously. I'm not making this up. Sometimes I think she uses her feet more than she uses her hands. There are toys she simply will not play with except with her feet. You know those little plastic rings of keys that all babies have? Yeah...She loves to hold them with her feet.

At first it was quirky, now it's downright entertaining!

Hence the Happy Baby Monkey. Oh...it also doesn't help her ears are turning out a bit on top. She's starting to look like a right proper chimp!

Ok, now before my mom gets angry at me for calling her a chimp, I'll post a pretty picture of her so you'll see she really is a gorgeous baby!

On Being a Modern Woman

I went to college, got the degree, got the job and in 3 years moved up the ranks from being a secretary to the head of my own department. I always thought I'd be the kind of woman who was only content with a family and a career.

Working has always brought me deep satisfaction. Imagine my surprise when domesticity began to suit me better! The first month of maternity leave I spent holding Zoe. I got to know the breadth and depth of her; learned every smell, sound and texture. She was an oasis to me and I drank in that time because I knew I would never have it again. Even with other children I knew it would never but THAT new and THAT frightening and THAT exhilarating. She was also a balm to my soul. Being with David has always made me feel healed and safe from all of the hurts of my youth - but Zoe made me COMPLETE. I was whole and finally had a clear direction and purpose. Never again would I stumble over titles or salaries - they didn't matter. I was Zoe's mom. I am Zoe's mom.

A rhythm developed of feedings and naps and I got my bearings. I cleaned my house every day and after a while had the "fifteen minute quick clean" going on. I watched Oprah and Martha Stewart and tried new recipes. I would go for long stretches, even DAYS at a time without ever thinking of work or the emails piling up in my in box. I existed in a cocoon of love and sleep deprivation.

As the time drew near for me to return to work I knew that it could never be the same. My priorities had shifted vastly and I no longer lived for the work that I did. David and I had always talked about finding a way for him to stay home with Zoe, I never dreamed I would feel the same way.

Like everything else so far though, she made it easy for us. She's a very social baby and much happier in the company of other people than just staying at home. She loves her daycare and I see her light up when we run into her providers in the grocery store or around town. They adore her as much as we do.

I'll get over this I'm sure. I'm very fortunate that she's only 5 minutes away and I can see her at lunch whenever I miss her too much. I'm getting back into the groove of work and enjoying my job again. But I still live for the evenings, when I get her home and out of her carseat and feel the sweet curve of her cheek against mine. She lets out this little sigh, and eats and goes to sleep and all is right with her world and mine now that we are...home.

Zoe's First Day

Zoe came into the world on her own terms. After a long last trimester of bedrest and worry because of blood pressure issues and the fact that the little monkey (yes, she earned the name in utero) was all kinds of breech, she bestowed us with her sweet and "attitudinal" self via C section on December 21st, 2005. For the record, it was not me who named her attitudinal - it was the nurses who cared for her after her birth.

Most babies who are born via C Section don't cry right away. Zoe came out crying. LOUDLY.
Her first order of business after being bathed and put in a bassinet was to kick the chart the nurse had lay down right off of it.



It did not at all surprise me that she did this when the story was later relayed to me, as she had been kicking the shit out of me for about 4 months, right up until the very end. She tap danced, practiced tai chi, riverdanced, played soccer and just generally used her legs to pummel me in any way possible.

The hallmark of her birth is that she came out feet first.

After the chart kicking incident young Zoe cried and fretted incessantly (I believe it is because I was not allowed to see her) and was thus aptly and affectionately named "attitudinal" by the nursery staff.

I say this now with laughter, but it was a scary time. Zoe swallowed amniotic fluid when she came out (of the TEN AND A HALF INCH INCISION) and was having some breathing difficulties. Often times C section babies breath too rapidly and do not have the appropriate oxygen mixture in their lungs having been deprived of the natural birth process. Zoe was one of them.

She was in an oxygen isolette for 24 hours after she was born; unequivocally these were longest hours of my life. I was worried sick for her though I was assured she was in no real danger. I was worried enough that I asked the nurses to amp me up on enough pain killers for me to get out of bed and get down to the nursery to see her. They were very kind to let me do this because I had more bleeding than they were comfortable with and I had orders not to get up until the next day.

True to form though, the nurses that were also mothers understood, and helped me get to her. There, touching her for the first time I finally cried. She was so little, so beautiful and so perfect. I had never felt such love and strength before. I had never been so afraid but I also felt natural and confident. I wanted to hold her so badly I almost shouted it at the nurse. Instead, I quietly held her hand and cried joyously at the miracle of her.