Big Girl Bed!

So Zoe has officially graduated. She's a Big Girl. This past weekend she took a trip down to Dallas to see her aunt and her aunt's doggies. I stayed at home for a little guy vacation, and Kris and the wonderful mother-in-law drove down. Now this wasn't so much a graduation, but a trial by stinking, rotten, cranky fire. Zoe was not a happy little muffin, she was a burnt pancake. She cried, and screamed, and she hit. She got in trouble, then decided to start all over again. The saying goes, "no sleep for the wicked". The adage fails to mention the poor bastards in charge of watching the wicked... cause they don't sleep neither. Needless to say, the wife and mother-in-law came home early. And promptly took long and much needed naps.


In the calmer periods of that weekend, there were some good times. Zoe adores, loves, and delights in playing with doggies. Her aunt's especially.

While I was at home, I took her baby crib apart and moved in her Toddler Bed. So when she got home, we made a big fuss about how she was a big girl now and gets to sleep in her Big Girl Bed. She was delighted. It never ceases to blow my mind to see her put these things together before we utter a word. She was dancing and clapping her hands the moment she saw the bed. Mind you, it had been in her room for a month... but now it was in the same place her crib WAS at. And her crib was gone... she knew what was up. She was very, very excited. That night we snapped a few pics of her and Gracie playing on her new Big Girl Bed.

The next night Grandma and Grandpa came over for the big ceremony. We had taken a trip to Wal-Mart earlier in the evening and Zoe had picked out her new pillows and blanket. So we all cheered for her while she rolled around on her bed and giggled. What can we say, that girl gets more hand clapping than most churches. That night, we peeked in on her to see how she was doing. It's a big deal, because now she can get up whenever she wants and roam around her room. More freedom, more responsibility. Don't get me wrong, she's not switching dials in a nuclear reactor or anything... at least not yet. But every time we've looked in on her it's freakin adorable. We snapped this picture that first night with her new blankets and redone Big Girl room. Crashed out!

Anyways, things are going well in Happy Baby Monkey-Land. The only poo throwing is from yours truly, and as long as she's at home she's doing pretty well. Just keep your fingers crossed, once she can open doors its a whole new ballgame.

"The Face"

THIS is the face

party on wayne.. party on darth

Well we had the once annual, then bi-annual, and sometimes tri-annual Duncan party. We had a great time. So much so, in fact, maybe we may break that lie I just told in the first sentence and actually have another one this year. Really, I was just looking for an excuse to use the word "tri-annual" in casual conversation.

It was great to have a smattering of kids running around and enjoying themselves. Playing (not pooping) in the pools, eating cheetos till their eyeballs popped out and generally freaking out. Zoe had one performance of her "Make the face" routine, we'll have to post some pics of that later. But really, everyone milled, drank one or two, chatted to each other and went home. For those of you reading this that went, thanks for coming and having a good time. Or if you didn't have a good time, thanks for not telling us about it you rotten bum. If you couldn't come, you're even more rotten and can be sure we don't like you anymore. But hopefully we'll see you at the next one. Anyway, here's some pics from the party and a few the next day that are too cute not to share.

Fun with pictures

A big shout out to our webmaster for this highly amusing misappropriation of state time and labor...

Karma

Remember THIS entry? Karma comes back to get you doesn't it. And there is photographic evidence.

party for weedeaters

Well ok. So a friend reminded me that we haven't written anything in a while. In fact, the last post was a quick one from the wife promising pictures and stories... haha, jokes on us I guess. Us Duncans do have a party coming up, so if you read this and have not gotten an invitation, myspace me, call me, email me, hire a plane to sky write me and we'll let you know whats up. I know I'm domesticated, because I'm going out to buy a weedeater for this upcoming party. A weedeater. Holy crap.


But I digress, this is a Zoe blog after all. She's doing really well. Feeling a bit of the terrible two strain but not worse for the wear. Nana (my mother) and her Chinese Pug Sissy spent the night over this past weekend, which Zoe adored. No news is good news, which is why this blog has been so inactive over the past weeks.

Quick story though, Zoe's learned the words and meaning behind "No! No!". Delightfully, she uses it every chance she gets. "Would you like some grapes Zoe? No! No!" then grape eating ensues. "Time to go to bed Zoe. No! No!" "No pooping on the floor! No! No!"-- ok, that's me. But I'm most proud of how she keeps her shoes in line. At seemingly random intervals she'll stop what she's doing, turn and point at her shoes at shout, "No!No! Shoes" like they were trying to steal her wallet. Now I'm sure there's a perfectly plausible explanation. Because you know, 1 1/2 year old girls never do anything crazy. But that's just it. The more Zoe learns to communicate, the more I realize that mankind... at its core... is completely insane.

She has no preconceived ideas about logic. Things happen, she accepts and moves on. The toilet eats poop. Granted. Water is born from the bath and the sky. Of course. Daddy yells at the tv because it's trying to steal his virginity. Absolutely. But the spaces in between is where it gets crazy. She yells at her shoes. Looking at the cat under the bed is hilarious. The primary staple food is bath bubbles. It's no wonder we can't achieve world peace, Zoe can't get along with her shoes for gods sake!

Freedom, Truth and Love

Hey everybody! Family Baby Monkey has been pretty busy lately. I just got back from a trip to San Francisco and DBM has been freelancing his ass off. On top of all that, we have moved to a new house. Never, EVER go out of town and then move the weekend you come back.

Stories and pictures coming soon!

Time Marches On...

This post finds us in the throes of Spring and hot and muggy weather. We've all been so busy lately. Daddy Baby Monkey was away the last two weekends doing some freelance camera work and I took Zoe down the Ft. Worth Zoe with my sister and Deena. She loved it, but it was exhausting as all get out!

HBM is learning new words everyday. She amazes me. She loves to say "puppy" and "vaccum".

She's also a little household helper.

This summer is going to be a hard one. I'm having to travel for three weeks this summer, one week out of each month starting this month. It will be really hard since now she is aware enough to know that I will be away.

I'm going to ower her a dog after this one!

I need to poke DBM into posting more. He was supposed to help fill in the gaps!

End of semester is near so I'll be posting more frequently.

Hidey Ho Neighbors

We haven't had much time to post lately because HBM is keeping us very busy. Things are good at the monkey household though. I have Easter pics for everyone soon. We'll be doing a little "photo shoot" at George's house soon too!

Happy Baby Monkey Hospital Update

Hey everyone. Just wanted to let you know that Zoe is doing better now. For those of you who didn't know, Zoe was admitted to the hospital Tuesday afternoon to be treated for dehydration related to rotavirus. She had been throwing up and having diarrhea on and off for four days and it went downhill very quickly Tuesday. After about an hour of IV fluids she was looking better, but she was so dehydrated it took 12 hours for her to produce the littlest pee pee diaper.

We were released yesterday afternoon and although the diarrhea is still persistent she is MUCH better. a 110% improvement over the last week.

Thanks to everyone who called and sent prayers. We love you and we're so happy she's on the mend.

In Memoriam - Jupiter "Foo Man" The Cat

This has to be one of the worst weekends in the history of our family. Saturday heralded in an upset tummy for me that turned into a raging stomach virus that had begging the good Lord for mercy.

Then, sadly, on Sunday we learned that our beloved Jupiter had been struck by a car and died. I am crying as I write this, because although mommies are not never, EVER supposed to have favorites but Jupiter was my special little boy.

Here is his story...

The first time I went to try on wedding dresses I went with my best friend Deena. In February David had rescued Gracie from our local Humane Society for me as a Valentine's day gift and I wanted to get her a companion. Ok, Ok, I know that David will call me on this one - I wanted a kitten because Gracie had decided that she was DAVID's cat and NOT mine and didn't particularly care for me very much.

So, on this glorious March day in which I was shopping for my wedding gown I had also decided to shop for a new kitten. I saw an ad in the paper from a woman who had kittens free to a good home and when I called she told me she wanted to be sure that her kittens went to multi cat households. When we got there, we saw why. The woman, who was the self named "Cat Lady" had about 20 adult cats, 15 kittens and God knows how many dogs. Her house was overrun and she had male strays coming in her pet doors to mate with her females and fight with her males. None of the cats had shots, were fed properly or had been spayed/neutered. The woman's arms were scratched from hand to shoulder. Deena and I were horrified. I wanted so badly to take ALL of them home.

The first cat to catch my eye was a gorgeous but extremely skittish harlequin tabby. She was so tiny but soooo beautiful and she looked JUST like my first cat Harley. I knew I'd be taking her home. My attention kept getting pulled to a cat that Deena had chosen though, a furry gray ball of crazy cute that just settled into the palm of her hand for a nap. He was adorable and the sweetest thing I had ever seen.

After much deliberation I decided to face David's wrath and take two home. We took the harlequin and the crazy gray ball of cute.

David was furious when I came home. I told him I'd take one back in the morning, knowing full well that one night watching those two crazy kittens play together would melt his heart like it had melted mine. It did, and we became parents to THREE disfunctional cats.

Later we would learn that Jupiter, having been severely malnourished at his prior home, would have health issues to contend with his whole life. Jupiter had a lower than normal IQ (think Forrest Gump), joint and tendon problems, suffered petite mal seizures and had malformations in his mouth and jaw that put him a higher risk for kidney disease. My God though he was hilarious!

He had it very clear in his mind that I was his mama...a cat nonetheless and loved nothing better than to "groom" me in the mornings when I wore my fuzzy bathrobe. Hell, I have years of stories I can tell you about this amazing animal, but it breaks my heart to think of them right now.

Jupiter...know that you were loved beyond reason and we were priveledged to have you in our lives. There will never be another cat like you. I know you're waiting for me at the Rainbow Bridge and that one day we'll see you again...but for me it will be too long before I hold you in my arms again, and see that snaggle toothed grin, and hear that sweet little purr. I love you furbaby...you will never be forgotten.

Rest in Peace my sweet little Foo Man
3/01 -03/18/2007

Zoe this past year

Just a few of Happy Baby Daddy's favorite pictures from Monkey start to Monkey now. Now keep in mind, I love the pretty pictures, but Dad likes the character shots the most!

















And like the good lady said, we're missing you very much Jupiter-poopiter. Gracie and Gemeni took turns waiting for you at the window last night. I'm never sure who reads this, but for our family this is a very big loss. We're also the kind of people to throw a party for you, which we will do. There will be no more cat nip when its over, no beer undrunk. You were a hilarious cat, and your name will become household.

"Did you seriously just drink the dishwater and pour your beer down the sink?! What a Jupiter!" You literally pooped on me once you rotten bastard! You really made us happier, and not many human people can claim that in life. We really miss you, we really love you.

Whipped

Something happens when you become a dad. Maybe it doesn't happen to everyone, maybe it's just me. But with the amount of Walmart receipts showing both "I Love Daddy" picture frames and hollow point .45 handgun ammunition, I can't be the only one.

So when you become a dad, you become a wussy. There I said it. It's not that you beg to see pictures of other people's kids, but when you do you say, "Awww, he/she/it's adorable!" ...... And you mean it. I feel wierd in a grocery store. I see some kid doing something cute in the toy isle and I get all gooey. "What a cute little kid! How adorable!" Or worse yet: "What a sweetie!" Ack. I gag at my own Hallmark-i-ness.

Now I'm not crying over any Oscar Meyer Wiener commercials or anything (that just looks wrong when written down-- whatever the context), but I do identify more strongly with dads on television and such. Of course it's simple psychology 101, but that doesn't mean I expected it. I never knew I'd utter: "I love that little cheerleader outfit!" and mean it. I never knew I'd get caught humming "Ring around the Rosie" at work. And mostly, I never knew fatherhood could be this rewarding.

Creative Independence

Happy Baby Monkey is a pretty independent little girl. She likes to do things herself, and I'm sure thanks to mom, practices a new skill with a single mindedness that's slightly unnerving. I mean seriously, how many times can a person walk up and down a step? She has tried a myriad of stepping scenerios, "What if my foot was here? Or here? Or what if I turned this way, would I still make the step?" and has found a handful of places around the house to practice. It's pretty cool, don't get me wrong. But with this studious independence comes a price.

Zoe's worst time comes around midnight - 3 am. Parents can wax intellectual for hours about the differences between a 'hungry' cry versus a 'sleepy' cry. The cry Zoe comes up with is more of a 'Boot to the Face' cry. It's a wail, sure, but there's some banshee mixed in...and a seasoning of maniac. Starts out with that breaking glass quality, then descends down into a gravely growling "ahhhhhrrrrrAAAgggggccccckkk!" Hell of a way to wake up.

Course, that's just the bark. Usually Zoe is so sweet, even in the wee hours of the morning. She smiles and chats you up a bit, just to make sure the niceities are observed. She sips a little water for context and giggles when you put her back to bed. What a freakin angel. Seriously, we're so lucky. Some kids NEVER do that.

But then there's the 'end times' version. She kicks and bows her back like posessed. Swings her hands in front of your face (we're REALLY working towards breaking that nasty habit) and knocks anything out of your hands that you're trying to use to soothe her. "Do you want your passy?" Whack! Right out of your hand. She want's to sit down, screams to sit down. You sit. She freaks out. YOU JUST SAT DOWN!!! HOW DARE YOU! She want's to be put down on the floor. Then promptly rolls around the floor like a worm on fire, braying like an agitated howler donkey.

The only thing you can do, and this is very daoistic, is nothing. If you try and do ANYTHING for her, she starts spitting nails. So it's sort of wierd: I have this shrieking mini-person in my lap, surrounded by all the accoutrement of parenting. Pacifiers, sippy cups, teddy bears, blocks, blankets, blankies (there's a difference- I know I know, it's marketing but whattya gonna do?) etc. etc. And I can't touch a single one. All I can do is position them in a way that she'll find them on her own. And even then, if she sees me moving anything ... she hates that thing. 'Mr. Duckie..... you're dead to me"

The real solution to this kind of behavior is just let her freak out. When she realizes it doesn't get a rise out of us, won't drive us to serve her every need and desire, she'll stop. Or at least find a different way to blow our mind. Which is what we do, we let her throw her little fit, and when she's done we comfort her and that's that.

But it's a little surreal to watch her systematically decline every attempt at soothing: knocking a pacifier out of my lap because she saw me put it there. Just to have her get up, walk over, and pick up the very same pacifier. Oh and then there's the look, "I don't need you hairy daddy man. I have my own freakin hands!"

Well that's right Happy Baby Monkey. You are a strong, independent 1 year old girl with opposable thumbs and an attitude. You pee on the floor for fun and chase cats for fitness. You are super bad. And I'll be here in a few minutes, when you want to curl up in a warm blanket and nuzzle your drooly face in my neck. I'll be here in thirty years, I'll be here in fifty. These arms are just useless tools, without you to hold them in.

Ladies and Gentleman, a word about naked time

A Word about Naked Time,

Every parent knows the risks and benefits of naked time. The benefits can be a fun, soothing and harmonious time before bed in which the child delights in the newness of nudeness. It’s healthful and freeing and teaches all that the human body is ok.

What I want to caution you about are the risks. Ok, so the kid might pee on the floor a time or two and that’s ok, because frankly it’s not such a yucky thing to clean up. It’s the poo that you have to watch out for.

Every night after dinner we let Zoe have her naked time. She runs around the house with complete abandon, enjoying being free of the stress of the day. Naked time (which sometimes is story time too) then becomes bath time.

Tonight, whilst enjoying her perfectly “free and clear” promenade around the house I noticed a particular look of concentration come over Zoe’s face. “Uh oh” the slow reacting idiot in my brain thought. I got to her too late. The product of her concentration had already made its break for freedom and was halfway there. “My God!” that idiot thought “we usually have more warning”. As if it would matter. By that time, she had shit on the floor. I’ve cleaned up a lot of cat turds in my time, but this was a yucko factor of 10. What really gets me is the JOY with which she was pooping. I almost didn’t want to inhibit her. Thinking these thoughts the jackass operating my brain lost about 10 more seconds. The other shoe had dropped. Only this time, she stepped in it. The similarity of the situation to one of our slightly slow cat Jupiter hit me. I remembered him litter training and stepping in his poop. It was an awful mess to clean up.

NOW the dimwit manning the controls upstairs kicked into emergency gear and I screamed “DIAPER!!! DIAPER!!! DIAPER!!!” while picking her up bodily and holding her about a foot out from my body. Oh how she fought as we tried to get a diaper on her. She knew she’d never have it again and wanted to give it hell.

It was war, and she came out cannons blazing. As David was cleaning her up, she farted all over him. Like a good soldier he tried to finish up without gagging, but nearly didn’t make it. It was a close thing.

I think we’ll be on full alert tomorrow night, waiting for the same thing to happen. And I think we’ve learned an important lesson…even your birthday suit can pick up a stain.

Daddy and Baby

So I was asked by a very dear friend today to be a groomsman in his wedding. For me, that's something not taken for granted. It means more than just standing during the ceremony trying not to look bored. A friend has invited me to present myself publically and represent him. I will bear as a symbol of his life before her, and after joining hands with the assigned bridesmaid, I'll be a symbol of their union together. So even their pasts will hold hands. It's easy to forget the power of that symbolism. At least, that's how I feel about it. Of course, all I'm really thinking when I'm up there is don't yawn, don't pick your nose, and most especially, don't roll your eyes. "I love you Linda. Your heart and my heart are one, never to be set asunder. Never to be parted, partitioned, apportioned, or abstracted" My eye's roll, maybe a little gagging. Then the preacher punches me in the face.

But along with asking me to be a groomsman, they'd like Happy Baby Monkey to be a flower girl. It's kind of surreal that my role as a symbol of someone else's life, would also involve the biggest symbol of love in mine.

I just hope she doesn't poop her pants.

Fun in the Bathroom

Daddy Baby Monkey is an incredible husband and daddy. I've said it before and as you see I'm not afraid to say it again. He does awesome things like giving me a break everynight when gets home and giving HBM a bath.

One night, whilst I'm effing around in the computer room and DBM is preparing to give HBM a bath, I hear an unexplained commotion.

Out of my foggy consciousness I hear:

"Zoe! Zoe No. Oh GROSS! Jesus! NO NO...oh Zoe OCKEY! OCKEY" (That's our word for ickey).

Silence - then - wait for it -

SPLASH!

The world speeds up into real time again and out comes David with pants hanging down half around his ankles holding Zoe out from him like she's a prairie dog with the plague.

"TOWELS! TOWELS! I need to clean her hands!" he shouts.

I scramble to get towels as he, writhing between hilarity and sheer disgust, begins to explain.

You see, Zoe is just tall enough to fit between DBM's legs when he stands up. DBM stands up to pee. Zoe, being fond of the water spout in the bathtub AND being rather intelligent if I do say so myself, hears water from a "spout" just like the bathtub. Ever the curious little monkey, she goes to investigate.

Here's how it went down.

David begins to pee. HBM toddles between his legs, placing herself strategicallly ah...under the "water faucet". She leans over to see what's going on (sort of like one of those water toys where the bird dips it's head in the water glass). That's when the shouting began. You can IMAGINE what happens when you leans over into the stream. I'll break it down for you. He pee'd on her. Go easy on him, he didn't mean to, but it happened. I'd stake my sanity on the fact it isn't the first this has happened to a child either.

Completely uncaring that her head is now in the "faucet" she decided to dunk her hand in the toilet and see what's going on. That's when the screams of OCKEY OCKEY began.

I just about pee'd my pants when he told me.

There is nothing on this earth that is as much of a three stooges episode as parenting.

That's all.

Daddy Baby Monkey

Wow, what a nice way to say I love you! Mommy Monkey has given me a spare set of keys to this blog and I've been told to introduce myself. I'm not sure who reads this, nor am I sure about whether or not yon readers know me. If not, you will in the coming months. Right now my mind isn't in the most creative of states. Think of an old shoe in a trashcan, and you'll know wher I'm at. So instead I'll share my current favorite picture of The Monkey. That's her trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue!

Happy Valentines Day

I'd just like to say Happy Valentine's Day from the Happy Baby Monkey family! We hope you are as rich in love as we have been this past year.

A happy new development is that Daddy Baby Monkey will now be posting as well as me! Welcome Daddy Baby Monkey! We look forward to your first post!

Also, thank you to our big fan who came forward and let us know what was going on with the spike in page views. We're very happy to have such a dedicated follower and we apologize for any embarassment we may have caused you. After watching 2,348 episodes of NBC's "To Catch a Predator", I've decided you just can't ever be too careful. Please feel free to stop by as often as you would like.

Hope you enjoy the eye candy!

Eating Crow....er...boogers

Many of you will remember this post. It's still one of my favorites.

Well. *sigh* I have to eat some crow.

When you have a child you dream that she will be the perfect little lady. That she will always be clean, have a bow in her hair and will never, ever be one of those snot nosed kids that you see running around Walmart pulling pickle jars off shelves and screaming "MOM! I POOPED!!!".

Those dreams are quickly shattered when your child comes.

Today I stopped and got at Sonic before coming to work and when the carhop came to deliver my order she sort of just stared blankly at me for a few seconds. Ok, well, I THOUGH she was staring at me. It was then I realized I had been hearing subliminally little smacking noises of goodness coming from Zoe's mouth and little satisfied "mmmm Mmmmss".

I turned in my seat to see a ginormous booger on her finger. My heart started pounding and I felt very much like those those characters in Hitchcock movies look when the camera zooms in on them at a weird angle. I could hear myself internally screaming "NooooooOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" as she began licking the booger. I'll spare you the details of what transpired next. Suffice it to say that A good time was had by all and Zoe was greatly disappointed when her little treat was gone.

Although it seemed like ages, this all occurred within a few mortifying seconds and I again became aware of the carhop, who was uncomfortably waiting for me to pay her. I shoved a $20 in her hand and got my change, then tipped her a dollar for her trouble and thanked her for always being "so nice" to us. I hope she keeps her mouth shut.

I was mortified. Wracked with hilarity as well, but utterly mortified.

Hi, I'm Kris, and I'm the mother of a booger eater. No judgment here. Just peace and understanding.

Manipulation

As a would-be psychologist I find it fascinated to watch the development of my daughter. It's amazing to see language occur and evolve. It's breath taking to see the little faces, mannerisms and idiosyncrosies that are already painting the picture of her personality.

And then there are the glimpses of what is to come:

Zoe (toddles up to mommy's plate to see what's cookin. See's it's pizza and is very interested. She reaches for a slice)

Mommy: No no baby, it's HOT. Can you say HOT?

Zoe (crying and kicking legs because she HATES the word NO)

Mommy (ignoring outburst)

Zoe (deciding that the tears are having no effect on the heartless monster she calls mother, takes a different tack. She climbs up my leg, wraps her arms around it and hugs me!)

Mommy: Zoe, it's HOT. Too hot for mommy's mouth, definitely too hot for yours.

Zoe (once again dissolves into tears and theatrics)

Mommy: Zoe, now that you've made such a big deal about this, I can't let you have any

Zoe (puts the final knife into my heart. She rests her chin on my leg silently as tears slip down her cheeks, looking like a the little match girl or something)

Before I could burst out laughing David came and distracted her, which took all of 30 seconds.

It's scary how fast they learn!

Happy New Year!!

Happy New Year everyone!

What a Christmas this has been. The family had TEN full days together and it was AWESOME. It was very hard to go back to work.

So much happened in those 10 days I can hardly believe it.

Zoe started WALKING!!!! She can take about 6 steps independently. So much progress in such a short amount of time.

Christmas morning was so much fun. We got up early and waited for her to get up so we could open presents. She was, as usual, spoiled by everyone she knows.

Her favorite toy by far was her little hippo walker that lets her cruise all around the house. She walked so much the first day that she was sore the next.

She's also picking up words like they are on sale at Sam's Club!

She has added these to her list:
tootsies (her feet)
Grandpa
cracker
hi

It was so precious when I woke her up this morning, she greeted me with a long "Hi". And then did the same for her daddy too.

All in all it was a wonderful holiday and although I'd rather be at home knitting, it's sort of nice to be back at work too.