Captive audience

Zooey has started this thing where she takes me or her dad by the hand & makes us come over tho where she wants to sit and play blocks or color or whatever. We are not there to participate, just to watch. If I try to color, she takes the paper away. If I start building a block tower, she takes it apart. She did let her dad help her make a play food sandwich this morning, so maybe I’m on some kind of punishment. I don’t know.

So when she came over to me this afternoon and grabbed my hands and said, “out out!” I figured she was going to lead me somewhere to watch her transfer crayons from one box to another (she does this at least once a day). Instead I got up from my armchair, and she let go of me, and promptly gave my seat to Bob, the stuffed leopard.

I definitely think I’m on some kind of punishment.


the golden shoes

Earlier in the year my mom bought Zooey some adorable gold jelly sandals. I liked them because they were easier to get on and off than sneakers, and they just seemed nicer for summer. Sneakers suck in summer. Especially if you’re one and don’t like shoes to begin with.

The problem was, she figured out how to unsnap them and get them off. Or, at least one of them. We were shopping at Target a few weeks ago, and I looked down to see one shoe, and one bare foot. I retraced our path through the store, through housewares and makeup and the aisle with exercise stuff (but not the running armband that fits my droid, dammit) all the way back to the dollar spot. Nothing. Then I retraced my steps forward again. Nothing. Before I left, I even asked at the customer service counter, but they did not have the shoe.  I was kind of sad.

The next time I was at Target, a few days later, I asked again at the desk before I headed out. I figured maybe someone found it at night when they were cleaning up or something. Sure enough, the girl came back to the counter with a little sandal. Yay! I thanked her, and took the shoe, and as soon as I grabbed it, something seemed wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I didn’t think it was the right shoe.

When I got home, I took a closer look. It was the right color, the right brand, the right size. I grabbed the other shoe to complete the set.

They even made a left and right pair, but they were NOT the same shoe.

Somewhere in my town, there is another little girl who lost her gold jelly sandal at Target some time in between when Zooey lost hers, and when I went back to ask about the shoe. When that little girl’s mom went to the counter to ask about the lost and found, they had a size 12-18 months Old Navy gold jelly sandal just waiting there to be picked up. And that little girl is probably running around in mismatched sandals, too. I mean, why waste a perfectly good pair of shoes just because they’re, you know, not actually a pair?



…this happened.

The baby got stuck in the elliptical machine. And, just so you know, I actually helped her up before snapping this picture, and she sat right back down again.

This is the picture I’m going to use when they ask for a baby picture for her high school graduation. Because I’m terrible.

of course


I bought her that lidded snack bowl thingy yesterday, specifically so she wouldn’t spill puffs and goldfish crackers on the floor.


Yesterday my baby monitor went missing. I had it for Zooey’s morning nap, but damned if I could find it anywhere. It wasn’t where I’d left it on the desk. It wasn’t on the floor, under the couch, in the armchair, on the windowsill. Nowhere.

I finally got so desperate I checked the flip up seat of this little scooter Zooey got for her birthday.


Someone has a secret hiding place. I’m half-tempted to leave the monitor there so she doesn’t know she’s been found out.

too quiet

Scene: my house, late morning. I’m getting ready for a shower, the baby wakes up early from her nap.

me: she’s quiet, I’m sure i can grab a quick shower while she plays in her crib.

Scene: baby’s room, approximately 30 minutes later.




I’m not sure if she’s blowing kisses, or making a fish face. Either way, it makes me laugh.