Week 39

Dear Zayde,


This week I learned about the ocean. To celebrate my ninth month, my parents took me to a place that is bigger and bluer than anything I have known. It's called "the beach," and it is full of fascinating sights, sounds, and smells. Mommy placed me upon the sand while Daddy set up our umbrella. I felt the coarse grains between my toes and fingers and all the little nooks and crannies caused by my luscious rolls of baby fat. The granules stuck to my fingers, which I promptly shoved into my mouth. They tasted crunchy and forbidden. As we played under the umbrella and posed for the requisite pictures, the wind tossed my hair around and smacked me gently in the face. I heard music in the distance and watched big white birds fly low to the ground. The sky seemed so much bigger there: the clouds were taller and stretched on forever. The smell in the air was fresh and calming; I could have sat with my toes in the sand for hours. That's when Daddy took off his shirt, picked me up, and walked me into the sea.

The water was warm like the bath I take after dinner and before bedtime, but it didn't stay still. The water rolled past us and headed toward the sand, where Mommy stood with her camera. Daddy explained that we were wading among the waves. The sea was waving to us, so I waved back. (This week I learned how to wave good-bye, so I was ready to swing my arms as long as the ocean responded.) I splashed the water, and it splashed back. I tasted salt. It tickled parts of my tongue that I didn't know existed. Daddy lifted me high above his head and then back into the water. We smiled at each other and waved to Mommy, who seemed to be wiping tears off her cheeks.

Back on the sand, I felt brave enough to try crawling. I pushed down and back with my hands and knees like I do at home, but the sand didn't push back like I thought it would. Instead, it kind of moved out of the way. I was able to make a little progress, but the sensation of shuffling through the sand made me stop and sit and contemplate this new substance all around. By that time, Daddy had taken down the umbrella, and Mommy was packing up our towels and toys. Back in the car, I let the sun and excitement of the day lull me into a significant afternoon nap.

My trip to the beach was undoubtedly the highlight of my week. I learned so much while there, and the entire experience was positive and something I'd like to repeat. That cannot be said for the other things I learned in the last few days.

On Thursday, I learned about allergy tests. Mommy took me to a new doctor, whose waiting room was much louder than the one outside my pediatrician's office. She said that was because we were in Aventura, where people are generally louder than the residents of Hollywood. The doctor was friendly and inquisitive. He asked Mommy lots of questions about what I eat and which foods have made me get all red and splotchy. Then he left the room. Now, I've been to enough doctor appointments that I've noticed a pattern. Once the doctor leaves the room, it's only a matter of time until a nurse enters and pokes me. I expected her to poke me in the legs a few times, but apparently Aventura isn't just loud. It's sadistic. While Mommy held me, the nurse used tiny needles to prick me more than a dozen times on my back and arms. Each poke wasn't so bad, but the totality of the repeated tiny bits of pain was more than I could take without crying out my extreme unhappiness. Once the nurse left the room, I was glad to get back to one of my favorite activities, crinkling the long sheets of paper that sit on examination tables. We waited around for maybe a half hour before the doctor returned to continue his conversation with Mommy. I admit that my vocabulary isn't the most comprehensive right now, but I did pick out the words eggs, milk, nuts, and sesame, all of which I know are kinds of food. Mommy seemed distraught and started asking a barrage of questions. I think she was trying to learn as much as she could from the doctor. When he left the room again, I had a sinking feeling that the poking wasn't quite done for the day, and I was right. The next thing I knew, there were three nurses in the room, and Mommy was holding me down on the table. Before anyone else touched me, I started to scream because that was clearly the correct response to whatever was about to happen. The first nurse took out a big needle and poked it right into the fleshy part of my arm behind my elbow. The weird thing is that I didn't feel the needle; earlier, a different nurse rubbed some ointment on my arm, and I can only conclude that it was a magic potion to numb me in preparation for the torture that would soon ensue. The nurse holding the needle in my arm looked concerned and said something about "sideways veins." I couldn't hear everything she was saying because I was still screaming. By that point I might have been making this heartbreaking stammering wail that made Mommy bite her lip and try to hide the tears that started pooling under her eyes. A second nurse took the needle and poked me again. I had no idea that nurses liked to gang up on innocent children, but that day I learned the truth. The second nurse dug around for a while with the same concerned look on her face and said my veins were too small. I don't know what veins are, but if those nurses were trying to take them out of me, then I'm glad my veins were hiding. I think the third nurse just stood there because she is the kind that likes to watch. Sicko. Finally, they all gave up their evil plans and left the room. Mommy took me home, where I found comfort in a calming snack of milk and a lengthy nap on her chest. It's going to take me a while to recover from that ordeal.

On Friday, before we went to the beach, Mommy and Daddy took me to see my pediatrician. I know what you're thinking: two doctors in two days? Yup, that's what I was thinking, too. As usual, the doctor was friendly, asked some questions, and then left the room. You know what happened next - another shot in the leg. Seriously, what do nurses have against me? Why must they poke me? Did I somehow offend the Queen of Nurses? Has ordered her minions to attack at will? I need to figure out a way to get into their good graces. Maybe I can get Grandma to bake them some cookies.

I guess this week I learned to take the good with the bad. Just like the ocean waves go up and down, so do the events of a week. As I get better at crawling and practice pulling myself up onto various pieces of furniture, I am reminded again that life is full of these ups and downs. Sometimes you're on top of the world, holding onto the coffee table and reaching for the remote control, and then you're face down in the rug, wondering how you got there. I'm learning, in these situations, to pick myself up and crawl toward the next adventure. Or cry until someone acknowledges my pain and kisses my boo-boo. (Usually the latter.)


Bye-bye,
(I'm waving bye-bye, but you can't see me.)

Zelda

Week 38

Dear Zayde,


It's been a rough week.  I found out why Daddy had his suitcase with him on Saturday.  He was going to a place called "out of town" to do something called a "trial."  He wasn't happy about it.  Mommy wasn't happy about it.  I sure wasn't happy about it, either.  Not having Daddy around for an entire week meant that Mommy had to put me in my crib each night and then play with me at 7:30 every morning, neither of which she did with the grace and aplomb that Daddy exhibits.  It was almost as if she wasn't thrilled to be the only person watching me 24 hours a day.  The nerve!  To be fair, she probably missed Daddy as much as I did.  That's why I woke up a few times each night and wailed until she brought me into her bed.  I knew she needed a little extra snuggling.  The extra diaper blow outs were also my way of showing how much I care.

Midweek, I learned that sometimes it's possible to see the person who is calling on the telephone.  Mommy asked me if I wanted to "face time" Daddy, which I thought meant I would be able to smack him in the face as I've enjoyed doing since I gained control of my arms.  Instead, Mommy and I stared at her phone until Daddy's face appeared.  Then he spoke!  And we responded.  Technology is a never ending source of wonder and entertainment.

A week after he left, Daddy returned home.  That's when he taught me that it's possible to save up a week's worth of kisses and then dole them out within a few hours.  My cheeks might not recover for quite some time.  The day he came home was Mommy's birthday.  I've noticed that most people have a birthday, and I'm wondering when I get to have mine.  I hear that people with birthdays get presents.  Mommy said that all she wanted for her birthday was a nap.  In my honest opinion, that is a stupid present.  I take naps every day.  Why would she wait until her birthday to do the same?  I think that for my birthday, I will ask for a stack of magazines.  This week I learned that magazines are made of paper, and ripping up paper is fantastic.  It makes the greatest sound, even better than the noise I can make by crinkling the paper.

This week, I learned that Mommy can worry about people other than me.  Something bad (but not too bad) happened to Grandma, and Mommy was concerned enough to hold me extra close and make a lot of phone calls.  Everyone is fine now, but the ordeal made me realize that Mommy's heart is big enough to love me as well as a few other people.  I'm not sure yet how I feel about the idea of sharing Mommy's attention, though.  I think I prefer having her all to myself.  That's why I didn't mind when the babysitter cancelled three times this week.  Playing with people other than my parents or grandparents is fun, but I don't think it's necessary.  Mommy seemed perturbed, but she gets that way when I poop beyond the limits of my diaper, so clearly she is easily inconvenienced.

Despite having a rough week, I did learn a lot.  I guess that adversity allows for even more opportunities to grow and develop than the boring status quo.  Onward and upward, right?  Speaking of which, please excuse me while I crawl over to Daddy, who looks like he needs me to use his legs as leverage as I stand up.


Moving right along,
Zelda

Week 37

Dear Zayde,


I guess the secret is out.  I assumed (foolishly) that Daddy would keep my crawling under wraps, but he decided to blab this new development all over town.  He even captured some of my early morning crawling on video to prove to everyone that he wasn't fabricating these episodes.  I suppose this means I learned that Daddy only keeps certain secrets, such as that time I peed on him on the way to the bathtub or the day he let me put the remote control in my mouth.  Those buttons were tastier than I'd ever dreamed.

On the topic of Daddy, this week I learned that sometimes he takes his suitcases to work.  On Saturday, Daddy put his pin striped suits and fanciest ties into his suitcases and loaded everything into his car before leaving for work.  He and Mommy seemed sad that he was taking his suitcases.  My baby senses indicate that something strange is happening.  I promise to keep you in the loop.

This week I learned that being in the sun changes the color of skin.  Mommy always covers me with gobs of sunblock and protective clothing, but the Florida sun is mighty powerful, and the result is a pleasant "glow" on my once alabaster cheeks and forearms and legs.  I don't think anyone would have noticed if it hadn't been for the tiny tan lines created by the indentation between the plush rolls on my arms and hands.  (Mommy says that someday I'll have wrists where these indentations currently reside.)  It looks like I'm wearing very thin white bracelets, which makes me a trend setter.

I need to cut this short so that I can crawl over to the shelves.  Mommy finally took my advice and replaced those useless picture frames and glass vases with stacks of my favorite board books and the plush blocks that she loves to stack but I prefer splayed across the floor.  (She also put plastic things in all the electrical outlets and rubber boarders on the coffee table, but I don't see the fun in those home "improvements.")  Today I shall practice removing each item, in turn, from its place on the shelves and arranging the lot in a semi-circle around myself for easier access.  It's all about efficiency and user-friendly design.


More mobile than ever,
Zelda

Week 36

Dear Zayde,


This week I learned to quickly transition from resting on my back to sitting up.  The process is multi-step.  First, I roll onto my stomach.  Next, I push myself up into a plank position.  I then lower my knees and shift my weight back and sideways until my tushie is planted firmly on the ground.  It's far more graceful than it sounds.  The reverse process is much faster, though.  I simply put my hands on the ground, lunge forward, and flip onto my back.  Sometimes my head gets in the way, and I need to yell at Mommy for making the ground rush at my face so quickly.  I'm still working out the kinks.

This week I also learned to crawl, but please don't tell anyone because it's a secret.  Only Daddy knows.  I've been teasing Mommy and all the other grown-ups for weeks with my hands and knees rocking and lunging act and pushing myself backwards across the laminate floor to get to my bookshelf or to wedge myself under the piano or between my exersaucer and the chair.  It's been fun, but we all know that this baby-ish tactic will only be cute for so long.  In the last few months, I've observed slightly older children scurry across carpets, and I must admit that I am intrigued by the idea of being able to follow Mommy anywhere, whether she likes it or not.  This morning, while Mommy was taking what I must admit was a much-deserved nap, I decided to show off all my new skills for Daddy.  I pushed myself from my back up to a sitting position.  Then I pulled myself up to stand next to my toy box.  Daddy was so impressed that I decided to give him a little treat.  When he placed his phone on the mat, I got into my hands and knees position and reached for it.  When he moved it slightly out of reach, I threw caution to the wind and went for it.  I didn't crawl far, but I did move just far enough to delight my poor father before he had to leave for work.  (I learned that lawyers work any day of the week and that this is one of the many reasons Daddy tells me not to be a lawyer.)  After all that moving and shaking, I took an epic nap on Daddy, and when I woke up, Mommy was ready to feed me.  Let's see how long I can wait to show her my new trick.

In the pool, I learned that I can float.  My instructor showed Mommy where to place her hands (under my back and neck) while I stop screaming and relax on my back.  When I'm ready - or rather, when she says I'm ready - Mommy slowly takes away the hand under my back.  If I don't freak out too much, she then removed the hand from under my neck.  I can stay afloat for a couple seconds before I start to wiggle and sink.  Apparently this is a big deal and warranted much praise.  I can't imagine how this skill will prove useful, but I have a similar view of my sippy cup right now, despite everyone telling me how wonderful it is to drink out of a plastic container.  I guess time will tell.

I think all these new movements have made Mommy nervous, which had led to a new discovery this week.  I learned that my crib's mattress could be lowered so that it is only a few inches off the ground.  Now when I sit up in bed, I can't reach the top of the bars.  I've also noticed Mommy putting little plastic things into the electrical outlets, which will make it very difficult for me to stick anything into them.  I'm beginning to think that Mommy doesn't want me to have any fun.  Don't worry; I'll figure out a way to overcome these seemingly insurmountable obstacles.  I always do.


Planning the next step,
Zelda

Week 35

Dear Zayde,


This week I learned that princesses don't have to wear their crowns.  Mommy brought me to see Ari again, but this time, when she took off my crown to inspect it, she never put it back on my head.  She took another special picture of me and told me that I'm symmetric, which must be a synonym for gorgeous.  Mommy seemed both happy and nervous at the same time.  I didn't know that was possible, although I should have considered it given that I often whine and giggle simultaneously.  Ari hugged Mommy and kissed me and said she was proud of what we've accomplished.  I'm not sure to what she's referring; maybe she's glad we were able to avoid the paparazzi despite my traveling around town wearing the crown.  When we got back into the car, I saw Mommy brush away a few tears.  She's so silly: she cried when she found out I would get a crown, and then she cried when I stopped wearing it.  I suppose I learned this week that Mommies can be as confusing as babies.  I thought about sending my crown to the new prince in England, but he probably won't have any outfits to match its pink hue.  For now, the crown rests on a shelf in my closet, just like the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London.  I expect we'll get a few tourists who want to pose next to it.  I plan to charge admittance on a sliding scale: $25 for adults, $15 for children, and babies may view the crown for free.  Gotta support my fellow infants.

This week I learned how to swim underwater to Mommy.  My instructor says, "one, two, three," and then she dunks me and somewhat launches me toward Mommy.  I kick and squirm and keep my mouth shut as I reach out toward Mommy's waiting arms.  The experience is both exhilarating and terrifying, much like being born.

I learned to open and close my fist in a motion similar to waving.  Sometimes I do it when people wave to me.  Sometimes I do it when I'm hungry because that's the sign for milk.  Sometimes I do it just to enjoy the sensation of squeezing thin air.  I like to keep the adults in a constant state of wonderment.

The most useful thing I learned this week is how to cling.  I have mastered the ability to take up so much of Mommy's time and energy that she cannot accomplish even the most mundane tasks, such as eating and using the restroom.  As proof, you'll notice that I was able to stop her from writing anything for a whole week.  Right now, she's passed out on the living room floor in a state of utter exhaustion, so I figured I would have a few minutes to write to you.  Uh oh; I hear her moaning.  I'd better go check on her.


Better late than never,
Zelda